Date sent: Sun, 12 Jul 1998 17:26:45 -0700 From: Joe Seeback Organization: TFGL To: Jason Chikami , Martin Davies , Sueanne Phillips <4sam@webkorner.com>, Tokoz , Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:Meet the Captain It was good to be aboard a ship again. Even if it was a half finished ship, still sitting in the yard. It would be operational soon, and it would be his. Jack Riley was as excited as anyone who would soon posses his own personal escort frigate. He stood suited on the bridge, they had just completed the inner hull and hadn't installed life support yet. Three forward consoles were already installed, their access panels open waiting for some tech to power them up and check them out. Standing next to the mount where the captain's chair would go he could almost visualize the finished bridge. The windows on either side of where the screen would be gave a great view of the busy ship yard. Little shuttles flying between docks, suited workers flickering in and out of shadows cast by their busy laser welders. He could see the many hulks taking shape, soon they would be space worthy vessels. Some he imagined might even be freighters that he would guard, or... liberate. As he watched the bow slope away from view he saw a shuttle cruising towards his ship. It was carrying the blast doors that would be installed soon, so the windows could be protected in emergencies. He couldn't get over the fact that he would soon own his own ship. It seemed to take forever for him to get off his butt and get the construction started. It was his own fault of course, he had the money from that lawsuit, it just didn't seem like he had the time. Absentmindedly he ran a gloved hand over a half finished panel by the door. Finally, he had his own ship, or would have in a few months. He'd better get moving on finding a crew. He hoped they would be as anxious as him in getting this new ship ready to make a profit. [So now that you've had the walk through, whadda ya think?] a man's voice interrupted his thoughts over the suit's comm, [Most captains like to take the walk through on the holodeck.] the man said. "It's nice." Jack replied, "How long until it's ready?" ['Bout a week or three, not more than a month and a half. You got a crew yet?] the man inquired. His suited figure floated into view up the empty turbo shaft. Karce was a nice enough fellow, but it bothered jack that he could never get a straight answer out of the man. The contractor's magnetic shoes clicked on the deck as he made his way over, it was more a vibration you could feel than a sound. "Nope, I haven't had a chance to go looking yet, I've been pretty busy." Jack answered, "I was thinking of using Union tech. I saw their ad for reliable employees on the net." [Oh I wouldn't use them. The only thing you can rely on Union tech for is to provide uneducated, lazy, good for nothings. And the contracts they make you sign, they think you owe them more than money for supplying you with their buffoons, if you know what I mean.] Karce seemed to be speaking from experience, [I can put you in touch with someone if you like. It's an off planet friend of mine, but he's very discerning. He's good at finding people for those hard to fill spots.] ----- Later that week, aboard the Space Station Bajor One ------ Jack stepped aboard the station. Duffle in hand, he made his way straight to the nearest bar. Riding as a second class passenger was not fun, but all of his extra money was going into his ship. His wrinkled shipsuit and slightly messed hair were evidence of his journey. Eight hours next to some screaming kid, maybe on the way back he'd scrape together enough to upgrade to first class. He was here for two days, just long enough to set things up with this Wyeth fellow. Then on to two more stops, and then home. As yet he had no work for his crewless, unfinished ship, But he was going to work on that as well. Standing at the entrance to the crossroads tavern Capt. Riley looked over it's occupants. Many of the patrons were gathered in the middle of the room, from their shouts he assumed it was over a dabbo table. It was rather busy in there, only a few tables were empty near the entrance. Jack decided he'd just go to the bar. Jack signaled the bartender as he sat, leaning his duffle against the bar. The violet skinned man nodded as he made his way over. "Excuse me, I'm looking for someone named Wyeth. I was told I could find him here." Jack said as the man approached. "My name is Wyeth, but I don't believe we've met Mr..." the bartender spoke. "Riley, John Riley, My friends call me Jack." they shook hands as Jack introduced himself, "I recently commissioned a ship and was told you could help me crew her. I know it's kind of short notice, but Karce, he's the contractor, said if I wanted a skilled crew I should talk to you." "I am honored Mr. Riley, that you would come all the way here from Rallak 6 for my services." the bartender answered. Apparently he did more than just tend bar, and his memory wasn't bad either, Jack thought to himself. "I'm on my way to Ivalice, It's a new colony I think they might be able to use the services of my soon to be completed ship." Jack explained. At least I hope they need my services, he continued his mental conversation "I was hoping I could meet a few prospects and maybe set up a convenient place you could send future likelies." "What type of ship is it? Did Karce send the specs with you." the bartender asked. Jack looked questioningly at the man. Karce had said he should bring some schematics so Wyeth could better fill out a crew for him. He felt a bit unsure if he could trust this bartender. Wyeth seemed to sense his apprehension. "I understand your concern captain, and trust me, this will be strictly confidential. I'll keep your records safe as long as I have them, and I'll get rid of them as soon as my job is done." The bartender's voice seemed to say he was a man of honor. Either he was a good actor or he was a good man. Jack handed over the plans he'd prepared, all the details not required for crewing the ship removed of course. "Why don't you get a room and get some rest. You look like you could use it. I'll see what I can do. I have a few people I think might fit your ship." Wyeth suggested as he looked over the schematics. "Meet me here tonight, I should have some people for you by then." "Thanks." Jack said, as he lifted his duffle and made his way to a room. ============== NRPG: Sorry it took so long. I know it could use some work too, but I'm ready to start and I've kept you guys waiting long enough. I hope to get better as we go. Suggestions are always welcome. I set us up as a light escort. I figure we'd have a few planets we know really well and escort convoys between them, what with the war and all it should be fun. Our ship is not made for long stretches in space so a lot of our story could take place on planet. If you guys don't like the escort Idea, there is other stuff we could do as well. We could be privateers, or we could smuggle stuff ourselves, or anything really, once the ship is built of course. The GRYPHON has a small cargo bay though, so if we smuggled stuff it would have to be low volume, high value stuff. No drugs Jack isn't an evil man. Wyeth is going to set up a meeting between us all and we can see what happens from there. --- DJF Date sent: Tue, 14 Jul 1998 00:12:47 -0400 From: "Crossroads Tavern (by way of Sam)" <4sam@webkorner.com> To: Joe Seeback , Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan , "'Sam'" <4sam@webkorner.com>, Martin Davies , Jason Chikami , Tokoz Subject: [EC]CROSSROADS:A Meeting Of The Ways (PT3) Arra Starset: Naomi looked around the crowded bar, sighing to herself. Now, where -had- that troublesome woman-cub gotten off to this time? She raised her head slightly and delicately sniffed at the air. Her sharp eyes honed in on Arra about to pick the pocket of an unwary Kligon in the opposite corner. Shaking her head and growling to herself, Naomi darted through the crowds to intercept the urchin before she could get into any more mischief. She reached the area just in time to find Arra dangling from the Klingon's fist by the scruff of the clothing at her neck, her feet kicking wildly at him and coming nowhere close to hitting him, since his reach exceeded her short legs. With every squirming kick, the Klingon chortled a little louder, enraging the trapped woman-cub even more. Naomi cleared her throat with a growl that got the Klingon's attention. "Pleased be you, to be releasing the woman-cub to the care of this one." She stated. The Klingon roared with laughter even louder. "Woman-cub!?! Cub, perhaps! This one is too small to be a woman." And he shook her again. Furious, Arra managed to finally land a kick to his ribs. Now, although this by no means hurt the Klingon in any way, it did, by his code, call for some form of retaliation. Embarrassed that he had not been paying close enough attention to Arra to keep her from landing a kick on him, the situation could quickly become ugly if not stopped, for there was no way that Arra would back down. The Klingon started to shake Arra again, but found that she had been plucked from his grasp, and was being held behind Naomi's back, her left hand on the girl's arm to keep her from darting into the crowd. He stepped towards Naomi, then paused when she growled something at him in Klingon, raising her right hand and unsheathing her claws. His eyes flicked briefly to the tips of her claws, then with a grunt and a nod, he turned away to find entertainment elsewhere. Naomi sheathed her claws, then turned to face Arra, never releasing her hold on the woman-cub's arm. She gazed down at Arra with a stern look. "To antaganizing that one be, Wyeth you be happy making not. With me, now you come. Employment interview arranged having been." She led an unprotesting Arra up the stairs and to a closed door. Arra paused before entering the room to ask Naomi, "What makes you think I'm not a child?" Naomi smiled at her as she opened the door for her, then laid her finger on her nose. "Woman-cub scent of puberty being beyond. This one, no one else tell, but why woman-cub wish cub to be thought?" Arra wrinkled her brow in concentration at the strange syntax, then giggled. "Keeps the odds in my favor. -Most- people won't hurt a kid." And with a saucy grin and a wink, she passed Naomi into the room. ----------------------- NRPG: Ok, Tokoz! Do your stuff! :) Sam aka - Naomi LeNoir - Hostess - Crossroads Tavern aka - Moira O'Toole - Cargo Chief - EMERALD DRAGON Laertes Ossern: "Wyeth," said Laertes, the pitch of his voice denoting the imminent request for a favour. "You don't happen to know if there are any jobs going? Around here? At all?" Wyeth gestured at the bar. "Maybe, apart from this fine establishment?" he said his purple lips curling into a smile. "Well, yes," Laertes grinned. "I was thinking more of crewing a ship or something..." Laertes trailed off. Wyeth face altered to convey an expression, which Laertes assumed was pleasure. "You, Mr. Ossern have stumbled across my forte. What kind of position did you have in mind?" Pleasantly surprised, Laertes shrugged. "I can crew lots of positions: I used to captain, remember?" Laertes began somewhat excitedly. "I doubled as engineer too. And helmsman. In fact once I did every position at the same time. It was a total disaster and I nearly fell into the atmosphere of a planet when I accidentally reconfiguered the impulse engines to..." Wyeth waved him into silence. "I believe you," he said. "I think I can find you somewhere where you'll fit in..." Wyeth paused, then continued, "You look pretty tired, why don't you go get some sleep and then meet me back here later this evening? I think I may have an opportunity for you by then." He smiled confidently, and shooed Laertes on his way to a spare room in the back. Later: Laertes awoke refreshed and hungry. Sitting up on the small cot, he ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it somewhat, then looked around for the bathroom. Having taken care of the call of Nature, and his hygiene, Laertes went in search of Wyeth and food, not necessarily in that order. He stepped out into the Tavern proper and looked around to see if he could locate Wyeth without appearing to be doing so. He was a little taken aback when he felt someone link their arm through his and start to lead him to the bar. He stopped moving briefly, when he saw who it was, but started moving again at a gentle pull on his arm. The creature at his side was a member of an alien race he'd never encountered before, or even heard of, for that matter. She was nearly on a level with his height, and wore no clothing or shoes. Her feet padded silently across the floor, and he had the impression that she could walk across rice paper without disturbing it.... Her body was similiar in general shape to that of a curvacious human female, but was covered by a soft, short, shiny ebony fur. Her long silver hair was tucked neatly behind ears that resembled those of a Vulcan or Romulan, and her ready smile was full of gleaming, white, feline-like pointy teeth. Her muscles rippled under the surface like those of a jungle cat, and she smelled ever so faintly of cinnamon, vanilla, and cloves. He was amused to note that not only did she have a tail, but she wrapped it lightly around one of her rather shapely legs to keep it out of harm's way. They reached the bar, and she gracefully pulled out a stool for him to sit upon, seating herself on the one next to it, quickly unwrapping her tail from her leg and draping it across her lap instead as she sat. She smiled at him in what he assumed was meant to be a reassuring manner, and patted the seat next to her at the bar. He sat down slowly, not knowing what to make of this, and glanced around the bar again trying to catch a glimpse of Wyeth. "Aahh. Mes-ter Ossern." Laertes attention was drawn back to the creature at his side. The 'Aahh' came out more like a purr, and she broke the title of Mister into two distinct syllables, mispronouncing the i as an elongated hard e, the emphasis on the first syllable. She practically hissed the ss's in his last name. If he'd been required to identify her accent, he'd have to guess that she'd been taught to speak Standard by someone with a really bad old Earth French accent. He smiled at the thought. Seeing she now had his attention, she continued, "Mes-ter Wyeth, he ask for your entertainment from this one, and this one tell him she is happy to entertain." She smiled at him again, and he couldn't help thinking that he hoped she -stayed- happy, because those teeth looked wicked. "A meeting, for you there is, when eating, you have done. This one, she shall there lead you to. Assuring, I am to be, that job opportunity there is." She pointed to a closed door on the second floor, then gestured for the bartender to come over and take Laertes dinner order. ---------------------- NRPG: Ok, Martin, we're away!! :) Finally. Hehe. You can have Naomi take you to the room upstairs whenever you're ready. The idea is to get everyone to this room for their interview with Jack Riley, the new Captain of the soon to be christened GRYPHON. More to come! :) Sam aka Naomi LeNoir - Hostess - Crossroads Tavern aka Moira O'Toole - Cargo Chief - EMERALD DRAGON Dr. Jacob (Jake) Tor: "Computer," said Jake, "Disengage all sinks and latrines in sickbay heads. Lock door on sickbay head number one as per my order; code 11A2B." Jake walked over and put the bottle of Insta-Lax tm back onto the medicine shelf. He then picked up a large green duffel bag of personal gear, walked out of sickbay and to the docking hatch. As he disembarked AWOL from the USS William Gates, he leaned over to the Ensign on guard and handed him a small medical towel and his com-badge. "Ensign, at the end of you shift, go to the latrine in sickbay with this towel and take the Captain's Log off of the Captain's hands. Jake whisteled as he stepped out of Starfleet onto the space station. Jake looked around the promenade deck and spotted what appeared to be a local bar down the way. Smiling to himself and continuing to whistle, he casually made his way through the throngs of people coming and going, and soon came to the establishment in question. A sign above the opening said 'Crossroads Tavern'. His smile turned to a grin as thoughts of REAL Bourbon floated through his mind, and he promptly entered. He came to an abrupt halt just inside the archway. His whistling stopped, and the smile he'd been wearing became rather thin. Jake supressed a shudder as he was greeted by the 'Hostess', and tried not to snarl at her. At least, he was fairly certain it was female, as it's basic body shape was that of a curvacious, tall, and slender human female. She stood almost level with him at 5'10", and he noted that in addition to no clothing, she also wore no shoes. Her body was covered with an ebony fur that was very short and shone with a sheen that spoke of a silky feeling to the touch. She had pointed ears that looked like those of a Vulcan or a Romulan, although they too were covered with that short fur. She had tucked her hair behind her ears and they were clear to see. Jake had never seen anyone with hair like hers. It was a metallic silver in color, looking like spun metal, and yet... it looked soft. It was very long, reaching below the small of her back, full and loosely curly. She was compellingly beautiful in an alien sort of way... and had very large emerald green eyes that seemed almost to glow with a luminesence of their own. But none of this is what caused the xenophobic reaction in Jake. It was her teeth. She had definitely feline teeth! And she was smiling at him. Jake absently reached up and smoothed down the hair that had stood up on the nape of his neck. He glanced up at the sound of her melodic chuckle, a self conscious look on his face as he flushed slightly. "Aahhh. Doc-tor." Jake looked momentarily startled at her apparent use of his title and name, until he realized that she was merely speaking with an unusual accent. "Pleased to see you, are we here, at the Crossroads Tavern. This way to come, please?" She turned to lead him to a seat at the bar, and he almost stumbled when he saw that she also had a tail! She glanced over her shoulder with another toothy smile and added softly, "Please to watch out for the tail. Sensitive, it is." And she quickly snaked it around her left leg as she kept walking. He was struck by how gracefully she moved. Jake shook his head slightly to himself. He'd seen lots of alien races, but never had he seen one that reminded him so much of a pet cat. He was tempted to touch her fur to see if it was as soft as it looked, and snatched his hand back to his side when he realized that he'd actually started to reach out to do so. Jake almost fell onto the barstool, for she had, in one smooth motion, pivoted to face him while pulling out the barstool for him to sit on, placing herself on the opposite side of it. He gratefully sat down on the stool and dropped his duffel at his feet. With a quick glance away from her toothy smile, Jake motioned to the bartender. "Bring me a -real- Bourbon, none of that Synthol crap, straight up." Seeing that the 'Hostess' had no apparent intention of leaving him to his own devices any time soon, he added, "Better make that a double." -------------------------------------- NRPG: Welcome to Eclipse and the Crossroads Tavern, Jason. :) This is the springboard to all the ships, so to speak, and here is where you have a chance to interact with another writer and get a feel for how things go. So, now it's your turn to post another part of the ongoing story.... As a general note: Your posts should include in the email header: [EC] (to indicate that this is an Eclipse post) and then the name of your ship or in this case the name of the location, which for now is CROSSROADS TAVERN, but simply CROSSROADS will suffice. :) Next comes the TITLE of your post, which generally gives some small indication of the content. So, when you get to the GRYPHON, your post headers will look like: [EC]GRYPHON:Post title Easy enough, yes? LOL. Take it away! Oh yes, don't forget to post to the newsgroup as well... directions were in another NRPG post sent out earlier today. :) But only the RPG posts!! LOL. Sam aka Naomi LeNoir - 'Hostess' - Crossroads Tavern aka Moira O'Toole - Cargo Chief - EMERALD DRAGON Captain Jack Riley: Having gotten some much needed sleep, Jack felt worlds better. He looked forward to meeting the potential crew members that Wyeth had promised to gather for him. Having crew meant that he was that much closer to actually getting out of drydock. So, it was with a jaunty step and a rather large smile that Jack entered the Crossroads Tavern again. He paused in surprise when he was greeted by a Hostess this time. He looked the creature over appreciatively while she greeted him. Although not human, she was beautiful by any standards. He found himself wondering... and then drew his attention back to the task at hand. He shook her outstretched hand, and noted that although her body was covered with an ebony fur, her palms were not and the skin was softer than that of a baby. He could feel the silkiness of her fur on the back of her hand under his fingers. He smiled in response to whatever she'd been saying. "This way to come with me, pleased be. Made arrangements have been. Readiness all is in." He followed her gracefully moving form through the crowd and up the stairs to a closed door. 'Must have missed the part about where Wyeth is.' He thought to himself as the creature opened the door and ushered him into the room. ----------------------- NRPG: Short and sweet, but you're a veteran Joe. :) Take it away! Sam aka Naomi - Hostess - Crossroads Tavern aka Moira O'Toole - Cargo Chief - EMERALD DRAGON Date sent: Tue, 14 Jul 1998 20:09:15 -0700 From: Joe Seeback Organization: TFGL To: Jason Chikami , Martin Davies , Sueanne Phillips <4sam@webkorner.com>, Tokoz , Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:Hello Nurse! >"This way to come with me, pleased be. Made arrangements have been. >Readiness all is in." He followed her gracefully moving form through the >crowd and up the stairs to a closed door. 'Must have missed the part >about where Wyeth is.' He thought to himself as the creature opened the >door and ushered him into the room. > After following his feline hostess through the door Jack found himself in a small meeting room. The center of the room was dominated by a large table that could seat six to eight people. It had several comfortable looking chairs arrayed around it. Two pitchers of water sat near its' center, with several crystal glasses set next to them. A replicator was built into the wall by the door, and a row of windows ran along the opposite wall. Their pictures were so lifelike it was hard to tell if they were real windows or just view screens. "Here you may sit." the woman said, as she indicated a seat at the table's end, "Others here will be shortly." Her cinnamony scent seemed to cling to him as he slid past her into a seat. His mind temporarily on things other than getting a new crew. 'I should say something nice, something to charm her' he thought as he sat. "Thanks." A small, feminine, and slightly feline smile met his attempt, as she turned and exited the room. 'She must get that a lot' he thought wryly to himself. Having never before sought a crew for a civilian ship, he fell back onto his starfleet training. Pulling a small data pad out of one of the leg pockets on his shipsuit, he began a rough outline for an interview. ================= NRPG: Again I begin with apologies, Sorry it's so short. My sister's wedding is this friday, after that I should be able to get around to my Email a lot quicker than I have been lately. HeHe... that's one of my excuses, I was just getting one more use out of it before her wedding. Go ahead and write up a meeting between your characters and Jack. I figure we'll hang out on the station for a couple of days to get used to each other. Then we'll hop onto a transport and go look for work (I haven't really thought it out that far). By the time we get to Rallak 6 (Home) our ship should be ready. --- DJF Laertes Ossern: >"Mes-ter Wyeth, he ask for your entertainment from this one, and >this one tell him she is happy to entertain." She smiled at him >again, and he couldn't help thinking that he hoped she -stayed- >happy, because those teeth looked wicked. "A meeting, for you there >is, when eating, you have done. This one, she shall there lead you >to. Assuring, I am to be, that job opportunity there is." She >pointed to a closed door on the second floor, then gestured for the >bartender to come over and take Laertes dinner order. Laertes observed the menu carefully. He knew almost none of the dishes, other than those ordered by customers during the day. In the end he picked one of these dishes, selected by a M'Nikin fellow. In fact the guy had hated it, and sent it back mostly uneaten. However Laertes new of the reputation for M'Nikin cooking, or the lack thereof, and so gambled at it being a wise choice. Suddenly a thought struck him, and being the entirely subtle and restrained sort of fellow he was, Laertes immediately turned to the woman-creature beside him, and frowning worriedly asked, "Am I meant to be paying for this?" The woman laughed. Or at least that's what Laertes assumed the noise was. Shaking her head she replied. "Wyeth, saying he that food complimentary is. But, only tonight that free is it." As she finished speaking (or purring) a plate with food landed itself in front of Laertes. No sooner as this, did he start to cut it up with his knife, and shovel it into his mouth. He gestured at the food with his fork, and said, or tried to say as best he could with a mouth full of food, "This is really good!" The cat-woman merely looked at him with a bemused expression as he continued to empty the plate. He impaled the last chunk of meat with the prongs of his fork and placed it in his mouth. Laertes laid his cutlery onto his clean plate and leaned back, stretching. "So," he began. "What's your deal with Wyeth? You, like, married to him or something?" She just smiled, showing her viscious fangs. "It is that we must now going, yes?" she purred, getting to her feet. Laertes looked (somewhat wistfully) after her swaying form, as she moved swiftly up a flight of stairs, then levered himself from the stool. @!----------------------!@ NRPG: Didn't know what order peeps were going to enter for interview, or whether they were going alone or collectively, so I decided to act my age and leave it in someone else's hands :) C ya. From: Date sent: Tue, 21 Jul 1998 14:22:02 EDT To: 4sam@webkorner.com, Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, eclipse@ionsys.com, martin.davies2@ukonline.co.uk, jchikami@net999.com, Tokoz@aol.com Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: Ultramarine Blue ********* "Ultramarine Blue" (and Other Things not pertaining to the Plot) a little bit of wackiness in the Eclipse universe for our friends on the Good Ship Lollypo--er, Gryphon...... ^_^;; ********** that bee--yootiful Cat-lady Naomi wrote: <> About half a second later, she remembered her travel-trunk, sitting forlornly at the bar. She whirled, but the cat-lady had already dissapeared. Arra stood in the doorway, torn between finding out about the "job opportunity" & going back for her beloved trunk. Several minutes passed. Sitting at the far end of the long, high, sleek, meeting table, Cap'n Jack Riley could not see the bottom third of the doorway very well. Not that he was particularly interested in the bottom third of the doorway, mind you. He WAS interested in the interview questions he was writing for his prospective new crewmembers, however. So he failed to register the *whoosh* of the doors opening; he did, though, register the absent *whoosh* of the doors closing. He looked up & saw... nothing. the open doors showed nothing but the empty hallway beyond. That wasn't right. They should only open if someone was standing infront of them. Getting to his feet, Jack moved around the table unil he could see what was holding them open. It was a small girl /w long pigtails & slightly pointed ears. She looked very perplexed & kept making small, hesitant steps into the room, then out into the hall. back & forth, & back & forth. Trying to smother a smile, Cap'n Jack asked, "umm, excuse me miss, are you lost?" Arra jumped in suprise. "ummmm...." a crafty look spread across her face, then was quickly replaced by one of angelic innocence. this guy was probably supposed to tell her where the transport Wyeth set up for her was docked. easy pickings... "Sorta, mister." Arra said cheerily, affecting a well-practiced whistle as if some of her teeth were missing, "I think i'm s'pposed to wait fer someone here. Wanna play a neat-o game?" She did not wait for an answer. Skipping into the room, she hopped onto one of the chairs, quickly pulled 3 small cups & a red ball from her vest & set them on the table. "well, mister?" *********** the classic cup & ball trick. guess which cup the ball is under, & win a prize! ... er.. sorta. the guesser bets that he will find the ball, & the trick operator guesses he won't (betting against yourself is bad for your self-esteem! ^_~). ********* Taking the Plot for a long walk off a short pier in cement shoes, The one & only slightly confused, sea-foam-green dragon, Tokoz ;) PS. BTW, that WG of Arra's was missing a few little, little things. if it wasn't painfully obivious, she's a kender (from the Dragonlance series, y'know? Tasselhoff Burrfoot?). & she never goes NEwhere w/o her trunk. but i don't think i remembered to put that in /w the one i posted, either. ^_^;; oh well. i'm tryin' to tone it down for you all, honest, i am, but if i ever get a wee bit too wacky, jus' tell me. please? Also if i totally screw up & write you out of chara, you have my permission to drop a large, space-age-type anvil on Arra. (then we'll just chalk it up to the wrong prescription lenses, ok? what? no-one needs glasses in Star-Trek time? well, see, they WERE wrong, then! no wonder you were actin' so strangely!) Date sent: Thu, 23 Jul 1998 18:43:34 -0400 From: "Crossroads Tavern (by way of Sam)" <4sam@webkorner.com> To: Joe Seeback , Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan , "'Sam'" <4sam@webkorner.com>, Martin Davies , Jason Chikami , Tokoz Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:Hello Trouble >"Sorta, mister." Arra said cheerily, affecting a well-practiced whistle as if >some of her teeth were missing, "I think i'm s'pposed to wait fer someone >here. Wanna play a neat-o game?" She did not wait for an answer. Skipping >into the room, she hopped onto one of the chairs, quickly pulled 3 small cups >& a red ball from her vest & set them on the table. > >"well, mister?" > Jack watched the cups slide around the table quickly losing track which one held the ball. The girl looked up expectantly, a gleam in her eye and a mischievous smile on her face to match. He looked to the cups and then back at the girl again. In his mind this was not usual behavior for lost little kids, but the universe takes all kinds. "Isn't there somebody looking for you?" Jack asked, "Your parents are probably worried." he continued in the singsong voice adults use when talking to kids 'one on one'. "Well, Which one?" she asked, moving the little cups around the table again, just as if he had never spoken. "all right, all right. Hmmmm..., That one." Jack proclaimed choosing the middle of the set. "Nope." she said, even before the empty cup was lifted. She placed the cup back on the table, then revealed the ball in it's hiding place under the rightmost cup. As Jack watched the cups dance once more around the table, he wondered what he was going to do. This child did not seem at all fazed about being lost. The doors to the meeting room slid open and a man walked in. He thanked someone outside as the doors slid themselves shut. Jack looked at the new arrival. He was of average height, a brown haired fellow. He didn't resemble the child at all. Maybe was he was a friend of the family. When he saw Jack and the girl he looked a bit confused. "I'm sorry," He said, "I must have come into the wrong room. I'm supposed to meet someone about a job." He turned as if to leave and the ever watching doors slid open again when they determined his intention. "You mean she's not yours?" Jack asked as he walked around the table. "I'm interviewing some jobs I have. She just kind of walked in." "You're a Captain." her high voice getting their attention, "Oooo, and you've got a nice ship too. Is it here? Can see it?" She was reading from the small data pad that Jack used to have, he must have set it down on the table top. As he walked towards her she handed it out to him. "You shouldn't leave your stuff lying around like that someone might take it." As she said this she seemed to remember something she'd left outside and started off to find out what it was before Jack could reply. "So, you're the captain then? I'm Laertes Ossern, I'm good on a ship and better in a fight. Nice kid, but she's not mine." They shook hands as the girl slipped quickly around them and left the room. Jack watched her leave, feeling a lingering responsibility. He should at least get her to someone who could help her out, maybe station security. "Jack Riley, nice to meet you." Jack answered, "I'm putting together a crew for a small ship. running patrols, escort missions, that sort of thing. Excuse me a moment." Jack went to the entrance, he should at least see where she was going, maybe he could help out later. As he approached the door there was a bellow from the tavern below. It echoed ominously up through the still open doors. The breaking of glass could clearly be heard over the shouting of several patrons. What was going on down there. Jack started down the steps with Laertes close behind. =============== NRPG: Here we go! I hope I wrote your characters okay. I know you said like a kender for Arra. I tried not to make her too kenderish, but it's hard. I just had the bio for Laertes and one post. Hopefully as we get moving, and more into character, they'll be easier for us to write. I figure through the next few posts we'll meet the Doc, and maybe get in some trouble along the way. =) --- DJF >"Jack Riley, nice to meet you." Jack answered, "I'm putting together >a crew for a small ship. running patrols, escort missions, that sort >of thing. Excuse me a moment." Jack went to the entrance, he should >at least see where she was going, maybe he could help out later. As >he approached the door there was a bellow from the tavern below. It >echoed ominously up through the still open doors. The breaking of >glass could clearly be heard over the shouting of several patrons. >What was going >on down there? Jack started down the steps with >Laertes close behind. Words to the effect of "uh oh" raced through Laertes mind as he hammered down the steps, close behind his prospective employer. He swung about on the banister at the bottom of the flight of stairs, and as he turned he saw one of the patrons sent sprawling across the floor, by a rather large unpleasant creature, who, Laertes noticed, had a large wet stain across his shirt. More of the bar's occupants began to lay into each other. Both Jack and him stood at the edge of mayhem, unsure of what to do. "Look, under the table, there," said Jack pointing right into the heart of the fighting. Laertes squinted into the me(circumflex)le(acute)e. Beneath the table where the fighting had originated was that curious little girl he had seen upstairs. Beside her crouched form was a large trunk of some sort. Jack Riley knealt down on the floor. "What are you doing?" said Laertes with some curiosity, as he bent down beside his captain. "Getting the kid out of there" came the reply. Laertes might have asked 'why', had Jack been there to listen, but by now he had already dived through the crowd. Laertes followed upright. Luckily most of the patrons seemed too intent on removing each others limbs to care about the new arrivals, though Laertes did have to dodge a few flailing arms and boots. Jack was crouched beside the table trying to dislodge the kid from her position when enraged alien landed a kick to Jack's kidneys. Laertes mouthed the word ouch as the toe made contact with Jack's side. The alien towered over Jack's body, urging him on in some foreign tongue. Thumping some guy whom he'd got entangled with and struggling onwards through the crowd, Laertes continued to watch as Jack struggled to his feet, and readied himself to attack. However before he could do so, a tall, dark haired man stepped between them, and finishing his glass of bourbon, landed a rather unpleasant blow to the creatures chin, who then promptly keeled over. Laertes was about to shout some congratulation when something heavy and blunt hit him on the back of his skull, and he tumbled to the floor. From: "Jason Chikami" To: "Joe Seeback" , "Martin Davies" , "'Sam'" <4sam@webkorner.com>, "Tokoz" , "Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan" Subject: [EC] Gryphon: the crew Date sent: Sun, 26 Jul 1998 14:30:52 -0700 Jake's table was a low key affair. Dressed with a soft synthetic cloth covering that was sure to shed even a Kil'reek's vomit, it sat in a corner of the Crossroads Tavern somewhat near a staircase upwards. It was dimly lit and perhaps the least conspicuous place to sit in the tavern. It was a good place to relax. The furry cat-woman Naomi had just done Jake the service of listening to him rant about Starfleet. Rising lithely, she padded away to find Jake a beer chaser for his bourbon. Jake's opinion of non-humans had lifted somewhat after the pleasant conversation. In his mild whiskey haze he considered how sensual a good fur coat felt against bare skin, then in a shiver of self-consciousness, he checked the thought. He chuckled and said aloud to himself, "Now that's what I call getting some p..." "Hi, I'm Arra." lilted a small girl who out of nowhere appeared in the seat accross from Jake. She smiled keenly in a bouncy, bubbly sort of way. Fidgeting cutely, she had a strange aura about her. Perhaps, Jake speculated, she might not be all human child - her ears seemed rather pointy. With a wave of perfume, a pewter tankard of beer appeared before Jake. Jake glanced over his shoulder at a departing Naomi and muttered thanks. Thinking of nothing more engaging to say, he replied to Arra, "Hey kiddo, want a beer?" "Umm, " replied Arra who reached over and grabbed the tankard and proceeded to imbibe. Jake just shrugged. The offer was a jest, but if the kid was thirsty he wouldn't stop her. "Arrrrgh! You filthy, stinking, thieving, humans!!" bellowed a large humanoid as he knocked down a human waitress with a crash of glassware. A few Ferengi, Klingon, and assorted non-humans laughed uproarously and racously encouraged a good thrashing of the humans in the bar. The humans occupying the Crossroads all stood with menacing looks upon their faces. Jake looked over and saw the purple guy tending bar mouth the words, "Not again" and conceal himself behind the counter. The angry humanoid made straight for Arra who promply ducked under the table. He started to scream, "Where is my digital chronometer you wamprat!!" Some human got in his way and absorbed a swift kick to the gut for his troubles. *When questioned later in the brig, not one of the combatants could recall what started the brouhaha. But we all know that the Klingons did it because the Ferengi were egging them on. At any rate, all hell broke loose. The big alien clod made a grab for Arra. He succeeded only in bumping the table and knocking some of Jake's bourbon to the floor. Jake picked up what was left of the lowball glass and finished it in one gulp. Jake stepped between the alien and the man he had just kicked. "Hey," said Jake in a quiet calm manner that defied the brewing chaos around them. The alien looked up with a start, temporarily forgetting Arra. "What do you get when have two nanites feeding on a micron-long piece of plasma conduit?" After a short pause, Jake stated, "Your genetalia." A confused look spread accross the alien's face as he looked down and opened a pouch at his belt. Distracted, he didn't even feel the solid right hand haymaker knock him cold. >Martin Davies Wrote: >Thumping some guy whom he'd got entangled with and struggling >onwards through the crowd, Laertes continued to watch as Jack >struggled to his feet, and readied himself to attack. >However before he could do so, a tall, dark haired man stepped >between them, and finishing his glass of bourbon, landed a rather >unpleasant blow to the creatures chin, who then promptly keeled over. >Laertes was about to shout some congratulation when something heavy >and blunt hit him on the back of his skull, and he tumbled to the >floor. Jack Ryan was supprised to see the large alien's pet Jin-Tallea fly out of the pouch at its waist. It squacked, keenly disturbed that its owner was falling in reaction to the solid blow the dark haired man had landed. The man seemed suprised too. Jack saw him shrug, pick a heavy tankard of ale off of the table and hand it to him. The man then pointed to a large klingon who was proceeding to trounce a prostrated Laertes. "That Klingon needs a beer. " was all he said. Jack mentally flipped to page 205 of the dirty-bar-fight handbook. Inspired, he threw the contents of the tankard onto the Klingon who whirled around angrily. With all his might he laid the tankard into the side of the Klingon's head with a most satisfying "Tling!" With glee Jack lept to the side and onto the base of an upset floor lamp which rapidly swung upward and connected with the side of a Ferengi's head. The Ferengi keeled over and began moaning. Arra was beginning to feel ever more insecure underneath her table because the bigger creatures had begun using them as missle weapons. She saw the man named Ossern on the floor and slunk to him. Using all her strength she helped him to his feet and hid behind him. Just in front of them, the 'Captain' whirled about and flung an ale mug accross the room. Somewhere in the din of the brawl, someone yelped and fell over with a thud. The 'Captain' chuckled, turned around, then put his hand in the air in reaction to the twenty armed Bajoran security guards that had appeared on the scene. With two or three stun bursts from their phasers, the bar fight stopped as suddenly as it had started. The security agents began separating the combatants, human and non-human, on either side of the bar. The humans were herded into a group near Arra, the Captain, Ossern, and the dark haired man that had offered her a beer. "THIS BEHAVIOUR IS UNFIT FOR REPRESENTATIVES OF OUR FEDERATION!" berated a bald headed human who seemed to be the head of a Federation diplomatic delegation. Most of the humans looked down at their feet, cowed by the starfleet officer. He seemed to speak for the Bajoran and Starfleet personal that were interrogating the humans. "Hey, you've got something on your nose." said Jake pointing to a Bajoran officer's face. The humans all stifled a chuckle. The Bajoran puffed up in anger but said nothing. "If you will act like children, then you will be punished like children!!!" yelled the pompous Starfleet officer, his bald head pulsating with anger. Jake pointed at Arra, "She started it!" Perfectly on que, Arra giggled and pointed at Captain Jack, "No, he started it!" Jack pointed at Laertes, "No he started it!" Laertes pointed at a dabo girl, "nuh uh, She did it, I saw her!!" The whole bar broke down in laughter. Later in the brig: Jack Ryan noticed suddenly that Jake Tor had no comm badge on his starfleet uniform. "Where's your badge?" Ossern and Arra listened intently hoping for a good story. "Who cares, I'm off duty... for good." "What medical function did you perform?" "Ships doctor." Jack's eyebrows shot up. How convienient this would be. "Hey Jake, want a job?" Jake shrugged, "Sure, why not." ===================== NRPG: Sorry for the mistake. Hope you like this, my first real post to a play-by-mail. Any pointers, comments, complaints, mail me! Jason Date sent: Wed, 05 Aug 1998 22:30:44 -0700 From: Joe Seeback Organization: TFGL To: Jason Chikami , Martin Davies , Tokoz , Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan , Sueanne Phillips <4sam@webkorner.com> Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:The Brig > Jack Ryan noticed suddenly that Jake Tor had no comm badge on his ^ heh, Jack Ryan belongs to someone else. It's Jack Riley ;-) >starfleet uniform. "Where's your badge?" Ossern and Arra listened >intently hoping for a good story. "Who cares, I'm off duty... for good." > "What medical function did you perform?" > "Ships doctor." > Jack's eyebrows shot up. How convienient this would be. > "Hey Jake, want a job?" > Jake shrugged, "Sure, why not." > "I was actually looking for a crew when the ruckus started." Jack said, "Oh, by the way. Laertes, the job's yours if you want it. The name of the ship is the GRYPHON, it should be finished within the week." Jack sat back against the wall on the bench that ran down one side of the cell. A small sink was against the back wall, presently hidden in it's fold away position. There weren't any bunks or rest room facilities, this was obviously just a holding cell. Jack shared the small room with several other people from the bar. A couple of them were standing against the far wall, while the first ones into the cell had gotten seats on the bench. "You've got a doctor and a security officer," A high pitched voice spoke up. The girl gave a glance at the Jake and then Laertes. "But 'cha need a tech. I can do that!" Jack raised an inquisitive eyebrow and looked to his soon to be ship mates. All of them together would make enough to skeleton crew his little frigate. If he hired them, they could start as soon as he hunted up some customers. "all right, let's discuss terms." Jack was talking to all of them now, "I had some rough notes somewhere. Basically I'll supply the ship and we take care of maintenance costs first and then split the rest of anything we take in. How does that sound?" NRPG: Sorry to wimp out and send such a short post. I should have more time starting the week of the 17th (not next week, but the one after it). A few ideas, Jack could get us out of jail with the money he was going to use to go to his next two stops (with just enough to get us back home). we could hang around the station for a bit and get a job offer from a guy who was in the brig with us. --- DJF From: Tokoz@aol.com Date sent: Sun, 13 Sep 1998 18:13:42 EDT To: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, jchikami@net999.com, martin.davies2@ukonline.co.uk, eclipse@ionsys.com, 4sam@webkorner.com, Tokoz@aol.com Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: What about the Child & the Fish? Previously: *Arra goes after her forgotten luggage * & inadvertantly (rii-iight.. ^_~) sets off the proverbial bar-room brawl *in which everyone participates *& then they jus' sat 'round the brig *but that was good, because they're all employed now *IF they can get out of the brig w/o being sent off to a detention asteroid, that is... ********* Eclipse Gryphon Presents! "What about the Child & the Fish?" or Wake UP peoples! ********** & thus spake our beloved Cap'n Jack: << Jack raised an inquisitive eyebrow and looked to his soon to be ship mates. All of them together would make enough to skeleton crew his little frigate. If he hired them, they could start as soon as he hunted up some customers. "all right, let's discuss terms." Jack was talking to all of them now, "I had some rough notes somewhere. Basically I'll supply the ship and we take care of maintenance costs first and then split the rest of anything we take in. How does that sound?">> "Sounds good to me!" Arra agreed cheerily. The others agreed or haggled as they saw fit, but finally everyone joined Cap'n Jack's payroll [1]. That done, they sat around in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes. "so... when does this work thing start?" Arra finally asked. "Whenever we get out of here i suppose," Jake put in before the cap'n could answer. "Ah." several more silence filled minutes passed. "...So... when d'you think we'll get out of here?" Arra finally asked. "Whenever we post bail, i suspect," Laertes replied. "So when can we do that?" she asked, eyes bright. She smiled her cutest kid smile & batted her eyelashes. "Could one of you nice men post mine for me? I'm just the slightest bit short on cash right now, & i'm sure it wouldn't be much..." Jake & Laertes glanced at eachother, then back at Arra. They then pulled their pockets inside out in a universal sign of bankruptcy & shrugged. Before Arra could turn her smile on Jack, the captain sighed & stood up. "I can post all our bail," he said. The other three immeadiatly stared intently at him. "But it'll be with the money we'd need to buy fuel [2], so we couldn't leave the station until we found a customer willing to pay up front." Arra made a face. "Humph, I wanna leave as soon as possible. Save your cash, Cap'n, *I* can get us outta here for *free*." Laertes made loud noises of disbelief & Jake just laughed. Jack, trying w/o much success to stifle a chuckle, knelt down to talk to Arra at eye level. "Little girl," he began. "My name's Arra," she replied angrily, sensing a "gee-that's-cute-but-you're- much-too-young-to-understand-why-it'll-NEVER-work" talk coming. "Ok, *Arra.*" Jake said. "You see, there's just no way..." yup. it was one of THOSE talks. Arra tried to tune him out, but couldn't. this is what she hated MOST about her disguise. No-one ever believed her! "I can too!" she declared hotly, cutting him off mid-talk. "Just you watch & make sure no security gaurds notice me!" She huffed angrily to her trunk, opened it & pulled a small laser tool from its depths. Then, she elbowed her way to the back wall & cut a small hole in the outer covering, displaying the circuitry w/in. Sitting down next to teh hole, she placed her hand on the open circuitry. "nonononono! there's no need for that! i'm not escaping! i just want to talk to you!" Arra said, apparently to the wall, in hushed tones. great! the thing was lonely! this should be easy. "oh, thank you soooo much!" she gushed. "i've been so lonely, all by myself in here." Jake made a "she's crazy" motion & pointed at Arra. Laertes nodded. Jack shrugged. "oh, no, you must be mistaken! it's only me in here." "I'll bet some ensign did that check & miswired your monitors." Arra said sadly. "Here, let me fix it for you." Reaching into the hole, she pulled out a handful of wires & connectors. After re-arranging them in a seemingly random order, she stuffed the mess back in the hole. The hum of the cell's forcefield stopped abruptly, as well as the light around the edge of its entrance. "Thanks again for talking to me," Arra said as she replaced the covering & sealed the hole wither her laser. With a brilliant & impish grin, she walked by her astonished cellmates, grabbed her trunk & walked out of the cell. "Are you boys coming?" she called sweetly. ******** [1] hope y'all don't mind, but i kinda assumed ever'one'd agree. i mean, that's why we're all "writing" this, right? to be on this ship? ::sullen voice:: wull, i left room fer ya ta haggle... [2] dang! i lost the post before this one. that WAS what you said, right? or something to that effect? ^_^;; ******** NRPG: why pay money when sneaky-ness will work just as well? ^_~ well, there IS that tiny problem of unpaid bail, & breaking out of jail, but no-one remembers the little things, right? ^_~ i am leaving it up to someone ELSE to get this Mighty Fine Crew to some buissness &/or off the *lovely* station... Tokoz ;) ICQ # 12005124 or IRC on SandNet (#OtakuWars!), usually. Generic webpage plug: http://members.aol.com/Tokoz/index.html From: Self To: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, jchikami@net999.com, eclipse@ionsys.com, 4sam@webkorner.com, Tokoz@aol.com Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: Escape... Date sent: Tue, 15 Sep 1998 20:00:17 ESCAPE FROM THE BRIG AND JUST WATCH THOSE POUNDS DROP OFF! >The hum of the cell's forcefield stopped abruptly, as well as the >light around the edge of its entrance. "Thanks again for talking to >me," Arra said as she replaced the covering & sealed the hole wither >her laser. >With a brilliant & impish grin, she walked by her astonished >cellmates, grabbed her trunk & walked out of the cell. >"Are you boys coming?" she called sweetly. "Uuuh... Just how exactly did you do that?" came Laertes slightly confused voice. Arra rolled her eyes. And with the words, "Like, come on! Let's go!" barely from her lips she had disappeared around the corner. Jack stood and straightening his jacket proceeded to walk towards the cells door. "What? You aren't suggesting that we skip paying bail and just walk out of here, are you?" said Laertes. Both his shipmate and captain looked at Laertes, and nodded. "And I suggest you do the same unless you feel like paying for your own bail," said Jack. Laertes sighed to himself as he walked through the archway. "Good sarcasm is so rarely appreciated." They sauntered as nonchalantly as they could down the passageway after Arra's retreating figure. "Excuse me? Kid! Psst!" hissed the captain in a stage whisper, that he hoped get Arra's attention before she gained the attention of the security officers, who were most like standing little more than four or so metres away. She twisted about to see the three men desperately miming for her not to go around the corner, then shrugging despairingly she strolled back towards their huddle. "Right. Plan of action then?" demanded Jake, looking from face to face. "I suggest," whispered Laertes, "that we send Arra around the corner, and while they're distracted by her rather cute naivity, I'll jump round and slug them." A smile spread across the captain's face. "That would be a brilliant plan, if not for one single flaw." "What's that?" inquired Laertes after a period of silence. The grin melted from the Jack's features. "It's crap." Laertes shrugged in a "there's-no-pleasing-some-people" kind of way as Jack continued: "No. We need a cunning and devilish ploy that will get us out of here causing the least amount of trouble at the same time as the least amount of financial loss." "You mean like following Arra through one of those ventilation shafts she just opened a hole in?" asked Jake gesturing to a large spherical opening in the wall. "Very much like that," said Laertes squeezing himself through the gap. Arra carefully resealed the ruptured vent after the Captain and Jake had eventually managed to pull themselves into the dark and dusty tunnel. Approximately 5.23 metres from where Arra had been standing only minutes earlier, the two security guards were slightly surprised to hear, as though emminating from thin air, the echoeing words: "Jees!: I need to lose some weight." ---------------- ++++++NRPG++++++ ---------------- Another short and sharp one. I would have done one sooner but unfortunately I had absolutely no idea whatsoever where the story line should go after being clapped in the brig. So I left it to someone else :) Thanks Tokoz. I quite like the idea of having volleys of posts. "Little but often!" as my gran would have said in her pleasantly rural welsh accent. Of course she would have been referring to work or something that I generally try to disassociate myself with. But I think it is a phrase which is applicable in this circumstance. Anyway I'll stop gibbering now, hence saving your sanity from furthur punishment. Keep the posts coming! Regards Spatula Man... Oh I'm sorry... I mean Martin Davies. The putrid smell of the Cardacian freighter was almost unbearable as the ship finally docked with SSB1. The environmental maintenance systems had been off line for six days and the odor of twenty people in the confined living quarters of the decrepit old ship was nauseating. From amongst the many Cardacians glad to be free of their own stench steps a average height human man with blond hair and green eyes... They dont recognize me thinks Toth with relief as he steps up to the customs officers. Name? asks the officer on the left. Toth-Ra Toth replies. Reason for traveling to SSB1? Business. Carry on... Next. Walking causally through the security checkpoint, Toth is glad that he waited a year before returning to federation space. The stay on Cardacia was a good chance to set up his new accounts and flesh out his identity. Now that all the money was thoroughly untraceable and clean as a whistle, he thinks it will be safe enough to return to a somewhat normal life,albeit a normal life of a quite shady nature. Walking along the business district of the station, he notices a sign that he hasnt seen in years. CROSS ROADS TAVERN A smile spreads across his face as he remembers the day he met Maria here. This smile only lasts for a moment however as he realizes why he is once again in front of this place. He walks up to the bar and takes a seat in the least crowded section. As the bartender approaches, Toth starts to say, The usual. but stops mid-phrase. Realizing that Wyeth wouldnt recognize him with all the changes he has gone through, Toth says, Double shot of vodka straight up. Before the second word is out of his mouth, Wyeth has already set his drink in front of him. With a wink, Wyeth says, How have you been old friend? Wyeth had always had an uncanny knack for seeing through lies and half-truths to the reality of the situation, but this was amazing. Toth says, Its her anniversary. and leaves it at that. Wyeth pours another double shot and says, The drinks are on me tonight. and he walks away to leave Toth in peace. An hour later slumped over the bar a passerby would probably have heard Toth say, very softly, Maria..... NRPG: the reason i had Wyeth refer to Toth as "old friend" is because toth has been in and out of ssb1 countless times over the years of working for the federation in the cardacian area, which is very close to ssb1. Wyeth has obviously met Joe Li many times over the years, in one form or another.... Crossroads Tavern: An hour later slumped over the bar a passerby would probably have heard Toth say, very softly, Maria..... Naomi caught Wyeth's eye and then glanced significantly at the man passed out at the bar, mumbling quietly to himself. Wyeth nodded a brief acknowledgment, and Naomi moved to the semi-conscious man's side. She gently helped him to his feet, draping one of his arms across her shoulders, and holding him tightly around his waist to help steady him, as she started walking him toward the stairs at the back of the Tavern. "Thinking, this one is, that walking and sleeping, being needed by you are... " Naomi's voice was a pleasant surprise for him, and Toth-Ra began to notice other things about her as he struggled to stay upright while studiously placing one foot in front of the other. She was considerably shorter than his current body, but still a couple of inches taller than his orginal one. He swore he felt soft fur under his hand on her shoulder, and swiveled his head carefully, to gaze at her blurrily. Sure enough... she was covered in soft fur all right. Short, soft, sleek downy type fur... Just then, they came to the stairs, and he had to concentrate on negotiating them, so as not to overbalance himself and her to send them tumbling back down to the floor below. The stairs having been successfully negotiated, with a minimum of fuss, she led him to an empty room that had a small bed and a nightstand in it. He sank gratefully onto the small mattress, curling up somewhat in order to accomodate his tall frame. Naomi cocked her head to the side for a moment, then looked to the air vent in expectation. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the scraping and mumbling became audible to human ears as well. Toth-Ra opened his eyes, and glanced around the room warily, a small frown creasing his brow. As if on cue, the vent opened, and a small form backed out of it, dusting itself off impatiently, then reaching back into the vent to remove a well worn travel trunk, which thumped to the floor unceremoniously. This was quickly followed by the forms of three medium built men, who all stood and stretched gratefully, trying to ease aching, bunched muscles. Naomi smiled knowingly to herself, quickly hiding it when the woman-cub turned to grin at her mischieviously. She winked at the small form, then turned her attention to Captain Jack Riley. "Aahh, Monsieur le Cap-i-ton..., pleased to be seeing you again, is this one. Having another prospective crew member, am I. Toth-Ra, presenting to you, I be... " And she turned slightly to the side, revealing the groggily sitting up Toth-Ra. ---------------------------------------------------- NRPG: ^_^ Gentlemen, and Lady... I do believe introductions are in order here.... LOL Sam ^_~ aka Naomi LeNoir - Hostess - Crossroads Tavern aka Moira O'Toole - Cargo Chief / Former First Mate - Emerald Dragon From: "Jason Chikami" To: "Joe Seeback" , "Martin Davies" , "'Sam'" <4sam@webkorner.com>, "Tokoz" , "Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan" Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:Up Up and Away?! Date sent: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 23:38:08 -0700 >Arra carefully resealed the ruptured vent after the Captain and Jake >had eventually managed to pull themselves into the dark and dusty >tunnel. Approximately 5.23 metres from where Arra had been standing >only minutes earlier, the two security guards were slightly surprised >to hear, as though emminating from thin air, the echoeing words: >"Jees!: I need to lose some weight." In a dexterity intense shuffle, the crew clambered through the tunneling without making a sound. Only the dainty Arra was able to stand fully upright. The others exchanged pained glances after a hundred feet of moving while hunched halfway over. On occasion the crew passed over ventilation grills that directly fed into resident quarters. "I don't know if we should be putting our weight on these grills," whispered Jack. "Shh! Just keep moving," hissed Laertes. Arra zipped ahead, Jake fell behind. After a few minutes of clambering down the tunnel. Jake stopped dead in his tracks over a resident's vent. His head lowered, his face awash with an immeasurable emotion. If any of the others had turned around, they would have seen him slowly taking in the air, savoring it as if it were the last meal of a dying man. He was suddenly oblivious to his surroundings. He didn't even notice that the others were hurredly padding into the distance. Jake breathed in slowly, mesmerized. He knew that humans were wired so that their frontal lobe, their most basic neurological process, was tied directly to the sense of smell. He had never realized how powerful the connection was until just now when he caught the scent of a unique homemade perfume, "Kobe Mist." His heart began racing, and he felt his innards knot up in a confusing bundle of emotion. With only a creak, the ventilation grill gave way, and Jake found himself falling throught the air, almost as if in slow motion. With an ungraceful thud he landed on the rich amber carpeting of the residence below. Prostrate on his hands and knees, hip and ankle aching, he slowly raised his head. Eiko's dainty ankles were very fair. Her small feet were clad by heeled sandles. Her toenails were tastefully painted. Jake raised his eyes and slowly followed the gracefull, pretty lines of Eiko, to her turquoise skirt, past the curve of her hips and bosom, past the spaghetti straps on her slim shoulders, wonderfully soft neck, and to the suprised look on her face. He exhaled and slowly blinked as he realized how beautiful her hands really were as she pressed both of them accross her lips- concealing her expression. He closed his eyes as he remembered how soft those hands were in his. "Jake?" she said softly. Jake looked down at his filthy, torn clothing. He looked down at his tarnished Doctor Of Medicine status. He looked down at his narrow escape from the brig, his dwindling savings, his decrepit belongings. Jake looked down at the carpet and kept his gaze there. "Eiko. I.. [long pause] I seem to be in a sort of mess. Please excuse me." he said lamely. With a great effort, he extricated himself from the floor. He wanted to leave but he couldn't. He just kept his gaze on her but not able to look in her eyes. The main door suddenly hissed open. A large, dapper gentlemen walked in then stopped in suprise. "What the!" "Darling, its okay," shouted Eiko. Her tender glance never left the battered, Jake. "This man is here to help us." Jake cringed at the impartiality with which she referred to him. "This is Jake, he is leaving the station immediately. We can trust him to expedite the medical data to the colony." she stated with the quick wit and instant understanding that Jake had fallen for. "Here sir," she said as she placed a data crystal and a credit counter in his hand. With a squeeze, she placed the objects directly in Jake's hand and motioned for him to leave. Jake stepped out into the corridor. Eiko never looked back. As the doors slid shut, Jake caught a final glimpse of the girl as she placed her hand in her fiance's. "Ouch." said Jake as he limped away. ............................................................................................ ....................... Jake was lost in la-la land. Arra saw the blank look on his face. She was about to make a quip or snide remark, but hesitated. The promenade was packed now, and the danger of being discovered was small. He handed her two devices. "Give these to the captain. We're done here. We can get on with it." whispered Jake. With a gesture, Arra motioined for Naomi to bring refreshment. And as the lowballs clanked onto the table, full of bourbon, Jack looked up and was suprised. In the young, bubbly and carefree face of the "little kid", he found understanding in her eyes. It was there for an instant, and then, with a wink and a smirk, she ran off into the crowd. *******************************************************************' NRPG Sorry for the sap guys! Rough week. I'll bet you can guess why. Creative writing is a healling process for this overly technical engineering geek. Joe Seeback, I could use a mizu-wari. JKC From: Tokoz@aol.com Date sent: Sun, 27 Sep 1998 21:23:03 EDT To: 4sam@webkorner.com, Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, eclipse@ionsys.com, martin.davies2@ukonline.co.uk, jchikami@net999.com, Tokoz@aol.com, JeanValjon@aol.com Subject: [EC] GRYPHON: Ms. Fix-it to the Rescue! since no-one else stepped up, i'll handle this dilemma! ^_^ Tokoz the Author brandishes a roll of Tokoz Brand All-Purpose Cultural Omnipresent Thread-fixing Duct Tape & her bag of Semi-Purpose Vaguely Clarivoiant Scene Switches. She begins Snip!-ing at random. gee, i hope i don't get caught by the Plot Hole Police... Written by the Ever-emotional Jake: [Snip!] <> As she wandered through the crowd, Arra wondered how she was going to tell the rest of "the gang" that Jake would need a few more minutes to compose himself. So intent on this problem was she (well, that & avoiding the couple whose bourbon she "liberated" for Jake -- they unfortunately saw her take the drinks from Naomi while the cat-lady was weaving her way through the crowd), that she failed to notice the 2 security gaurds in front of her until she ran face first into their legs. She looked slowly up at their faces. they were familiar-looking. A bit *TOO* familiar... "Well, look who we have here," said the first in a too-sweet, sarcastic voice. "if it isn't our 'little lost farmer girl,' " the second replied in kind. "uh, hi guys..." Arra said, frantically searching for a way to escape. Wait, over there... The gaurds lunged for Arra just as she she jumped to the side & swung around a hapless waitress -- whose tray full of synthol landed on the gaurds a fraction of a second before she did. "HEY CAP'N JA-AAACK! WE'VE GOTTA GOOO-OO!" Arra yelled as she tore through the crowd. [SD-Arra being chased by SD-Nameless Plot Hole Policeofficers scene switch] "Do you have ANY idea where we're going?" Cap'n Jack asked as he puffed through yet *another* ventilation shaft. It seemed like they'd been doign this *forever* & he was beginning to wonder if the money he'd saved in bail was worth crawling on hands & knees for the rest of eternity. He was also quite tired of shoving Arra's trunk along in of him. what did she have in there, bricks? "Of course I do!" Arra said belligerently. "*this* is where we need to be!" She pushed open the vent & hopped through the opening.... Then we'll say Naomi wrote: [Snip!] << As if on cue, the vent opened, and a small form backed out of it, dusting itself off impatiently, then reaching back into the vent to remove a well worn travel trunk, which thumped to the floor unceremoniously. This was quickly followed by the forms of three medium built men, who all stood and stretched gratefully, trying to ease aching, bunched muscles.>> [snip! & insert the rest of the current posts here] ******* there. that'll teach you to let me fix continuity glitches, huh? ^_~ ****** Tokoz ;) Date sent: Sat, 10 Oct 1998 13:22:20 -0700 From: Joe Seeback Organization: TFGL To: Jason Chikami , JeanValjon , Martin Davies , Sueanne Phillips <4sam@webkorner.com>, Tokoz , Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:Work NRPG: Hello, I know I've been quiet for a while, but I'm back now. My compliments on the cross-post fix. This post starts from the end of 'Am I dreaming?' ----- > “WHAT THE HELL” shouts Toth as he sits straight up with his eyes wide open >and obviously awake. Looking around the room he says to every one in the >room, “It wasn’t a dream. Who are you?” > After brushing off some of the dust he'd picked up from the access tubes, Jack stepped forward and extended his hand. "I'm Jack Riley. Captain of the GRYPHON." The blonde man stood, blinking a bit as he gained his balance. "Nice to meet you. Are you hiring?" he asked, a hopeful look crossing his face. Jack spoke with the prospective crew member, asking a few questions about skills and the man's background. The Captain was pretty much decided on hiring him, and with a few comments from the rest of the crew they welcomed the new member to the team. The big question presently was "What now?" The Crew of the GRYPHON made its' way out of the little room, back into the tavern. Naomi led them to a table on the upper tier over looking the main room. From where they sat they could see the main entrance, the dabbo tables and most of the bar that ran along one side of the tavern. "I have been in contact with two prospective employers before I came here." Jack explained, "One of them is interested in long term employment. Kern, a small independent colony near the neutral zone, wants us to protect their convoys. I've only spoken a little with Kern security, but it looks like a high paying job. Of course there will be a high factor of danger as well." "The second job is a short, one time escort mission. I was thinking we could complete it then make our way to Kern. We'd be escorting a freighter to Milliac, and then back home again. They say they're going to be carrying expensive technological wares. It seems a bit fishy to me, but the price is right. First we need to get back to the GRYPHON. It should be complete by the time we get home. I'd also like to research a few things, like why this Milliac is such a dangerous place." "Speaking of jobs," Jake spoke up, "I had one fall right into my lap." He set the data crystal onto the table as he continued his explanation, "We need to deliver this. It's some kind of medical data. I checked out the destination. It's a small colony near the neutral zone, I wouldn't be surprised if they were trading partners with Kern." Things were looking up for the crew of the GRYPHON. Now if they could just get off the station without running into security. And there was, of course, the problem of booking passage for everyone on a ship that wouldn't mind sneaking a few passengers aboard. ----------- NRPG:Again I apologise for being silent for so long. I've got a little more time now so I should be able to post more frequently. --- DJF From: Tokoz@aol.com Date sent: Tue, 17 Nov 1998 22:39:09 EST To: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, jchikami@net999.com, JeanValjon@aol.com, martin.davies2@ukonline.co.uk, 4sam@webkorner.com, eclipse@ionsys.com Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: Allowing for Ambivalent Alliterations Previously: *We escaped the Terrifyingly Twisted (& also Terribly Tiny) Tremendously long Tunnels of Doom! (or the air-conditioning vents. whatever) *Cap'n Jack hired the Slightly Sloshed former Spy, who's Certainly Sober by now *we've won Work -- 3 different missions, in fact. * Mission 1 -- Constantly Keeping Kernese Convoys away from Knaves of all Kinds * Mission 2 -- Escorting Expensive Electrical Compontents Carefully to & from the Maybe Malicious Milliac *Mission 3 -- Delivering Diagnostic Data to a Desparate, Dinky colony next Door to Dern--- i mean, Kern ^_^;; ******** NRPG: > And there was, of course, the problem of booking passage for everyone on a ship > that wouldn't mind sneaking a few passengers aboard. not to nitpick or anything, but don't we have a ship? by the name of "Gryphon?" ^_~ ******* Cap'n Jack scribbled one night a long, long time ago: << "Speaking of jobs," Jake spoke up, "I had one fall right into my lap." He set the data crystal onto the table as he continued his explanation, "We need to deliver this. It's some kind of medical data. I checked out the destination. It's a small colony near the neutral zone, I wouldn't be surprised if they were trading partners with Kern.">> "So which one are we taking, Cap'n?" piped Arra "I'm going ot let my crew decide that, Arra" Cap'n Jack replied, trying (but not quite succeeding) to keep from using the "adult-to-little-kid" voice. "Which one should we take, crew?" "The Kernese escort!" "Milliac!" "We must deliver this crystal!" Declared Laertes, Toth-ra & Jake all with the same unshakable attitude & all in unison. the three stared at eachother for a moment, then began to argue fiercely. Arra put in her own opinions, supporting one crew member, tehn switching to another seemingly at random. Cap'n Jack slumped in his chair, quietly dispairing. Oh, sure, give them a barroom brawl & they work in perfect harmony, but a simple dicscussion -- Oooooh no! they bicker like school children over the last piece of candy. He sighed. Speaking of barroom brawls, he'd best stop this one before everyone gets tossed into the brig -- *again.* "& What d'you know about that; you're not even human!" Jake yelled at Arra, who had just said something extremely insulting about his parents' reproductive capabilities. "MISTER Tor!" Jack said in his best Captian Voice. "People are staring. Would you like to be thrown in the Brig *again*?" Subdued, Jake replied, "Not especially." He added under his breath, "although i'm sure that crazy little elf wench wouldn't mind talking her wall again..." Toth-ra, who was sitting beside him, smothered a chuckle. Arra made faces at them both when she thought the captian wasn't looking. Jack, still in his Captian Voice, continued "We have to work as a team *all the time,* not just when we're beating up the local drunks, if we're going to take ANY of these missions & not get ouselves killed. we will discuss this like civilized beings. understood?" There were mumbled 'understoods' all around the table. "good. Now, which mission, or missions, should we take?" "We could take all three," Laertes suggested in a cool, calm voice. "Milliac, then the data crystal, & finally Kern, since they're all in the same general area." ******* TBC? Naturally! ******* NRPG: if youse guys dont' start posting soon, Arra's going to stage a mutiny before we even get to the spaceship! ^_~ Tokoz ;) Date sent: Sat, 21 Nov 1998 02:47:44 -0800 From: Joe Seeback Organization: TFGL To: Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan , JeanValjon , Sueanne Phillips <4sam@webkorner.com>, Jason Chikami , Martin Davies , Tokoz Subject: [EC]GRYPHON:Shipping Out >Jack, still in his Captian Voice, continued "We have to work as a team *all >the time,* not just when we're beating up the local drunks, if we're going to >take ANY of these missions & not get ouselves killed. we will discuss this >like civilized beings. understood?" There were mumbled 'understoods' all >around the table. "good. Now, which mission, or missions, should we take?" > >"We could take all three," Laertes suggested in a cool, calm voice. "Milliac, >then the data crystal, & finally Kern, since they're all in the same general >area." > "Good that's just what I was thinking." Jack said, "By the time we reach Rallak 6 the GRYPHON's construction should be complete. We can start by going to Milliac from there." After discussing their plans the small group left. They thanked the waitress by leaving her a generous tip, since she didn't seem to be in sight at the moment. Gathering what little belongings they had, or in Arra's case her large travel trunk, the crew made its way to the outer docking collar. They had a ship to catch, hopefully it was going where they were. -------- Station Security Office -------- "Any luck on finding those escapees?" the man said to his co-worker. "No, but we did manage to ID one of them. He's ex-starfleet." the co-worker explained, "They probably left the station as soon as they were free. If they come back we might get them, but I think they're gone." "Well, put up their notice anyways. You know how Kalec can be about procedure." The man grabbed a data padd from his desk and went to the console by the wall. "I've filed the report." His co-worker said, "I'm going to check recent departures. I need a walk anyway. I'll be back." -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock five -------- "That's a pretty steep price." Jack haggled, "I could get passage for half that rate. And this isn't even a passenger ship its a merchant." "It's just that you seem in a bit of a hurry. Also you have to realize I'd be going out of my normal route. I've got schedules to keep." The alien merchant captain said, "Why don't you just take a passenger ship then?" -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock Ten -------- "So you haven't seen them?" the security officer asked, "Well I didn't expect anything, but if you see 'em let me know okay." The booking agent nodded as the security officer walked on to the next air lock. -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock five -------- "I know you've got schedules to keep. That's why I'd be willing to offer, say half your asking price." Jack bargained. As he was talking a crew man walked up and handed his Captain a data Padd. After reading it the alien looked up at his prospective passengers. "It seems, Mr. Riley," The alien began with a smile, "That the price has just doubled." The alien showed Jack the Padd. It held complete descriptions of all of them, and it called him by name. Under the description it said 'Wanted for disturbing the peace, insighting a riot, theft, vandalism, damage to starfleet property, illegally leaving starfleet custody, assaulting a starfleet officer, and trespassing.' "Theft?" Jack said with a curious look on his face, "Hey did any of you guys steal anything? I didn't steal anything." The confused crew just looked to one another, then back at their captain. "Look If I had to pay double, I might as well just go back and pay all these fines." Jack said to the alien. -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock eight -------- "Yeah, they're dangerous criminals." The security officer said, "If you see them, call me right away." "Wow you're so brave." The girl behind the counter said. "I'll let you know if I see them." She whispered conspiratorially. The security man straightened up his shoulders and with a self confident grin he said, "Well, I'd better get back to work. I'll come by later, to see if you've seen them or anything." he gave a slight nod and waved as he walked around the bend. -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock five -------- "Well, it's up to you. Pay starfleet's fines or pay mine." the alien said smiling at his own wit. "Okay look, I'll pay your original asking price, plus ten percent, but that's as high as I'll go." Jack spoke, trying to sound like he had something to bargain with. -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock six -------- "So the monk says, 'because the dog likes peanut butter with his jelly.'" the security officer laughs as he slaps his hand against the counter top. "I see." says the alien behind the counter, "And this jelly, it is funny?" "Yeah, you see the jelly, aw never mind. Just keep a look out for those guys I told you about. Let us know if you see them okay?" The security officer shakes his head as he walks away. -------- Outer Docking Ring, Air lock five -------- "Look, we're ready to leave. I can take you where you want to go, but it's gonna cost you my original price, plus twenty percent. That's it take it or leave it." the alien said. His crewmen loading on the last of the crates by the air lock door. "Okay, you've got a deal." Jack shook the alien's hand to confirm it. "all right guys let's get aboard." One by one they hauled their stuff onto the waiting vessel. the captain sent his departure report and was preparing to leave as a starfleet officer rounded the bend. The security officer walked right up to him. "Are you Thamen Gertok?" The security officer asked, looking at his data Padd, "Captain of the Meridian." "I have not seen any fugitives. Sorry." the alien replied, "I must go now." the air lock door began to roll shut and the saftey lights signaled all clear. "Another thing," Jack said coming to the air lock door, "I wanted to talk..." The alien slipped past the closing door and ran for the bridge. He was yelling something to his crew as the ship powered up. Jack looked through the window on the air lock door. The security officer was looking back at him. Jack though he said 'well I'll be damned' as the ship lurched away from the station. -------------- NRPG:Okay so maybe it didn't have 'much, much more' or 'thrilling and chilling' or any of that, But peanut butter and jelly. I mean is that funny or what? you know peanut butter. And jelly... okay so I don't get it either. --- DJF ---------------------------------- Babies and Life Jackets ---------------------------------- ------------ NRPG ------------ "Please place your screaming little bastard children in the over head compartments and put your chairs into the upright position. Your life jackets are located beneath your seats but, quite frankly, if we crash you have almost zero chance of surviving anyway. In the case of an emergency don't bother to ask your cabin crew as they will already have parachuted out of the plane along with the pilots. Thankyou, and enjoy your flight!" -------- RPG -------- >"Another thing," Jack said coming to the air lock door, "I wanted to >talk..." The alien slipped past the closing door and ran for the >bridge. He was yelling something to his crew as the ship powered up. >Jack looked through the window on the air lock door. The security >officer was looking back at him. Jack though he said 'well I'll be >damned' as the ship lurched away from the station. *** Rallak 6 was far too far away from Space Station Bajor One in Laertes' mind. He always measured a journey's length not by the standard unit- the light year, nor by hours and seconds, but by how long it took to irritate the hell out of the other passengers. Laertes was not a highly tolerant person on the whole, but when you took into the account the fact that his stay on the station had begun when he'd woken up in bed with a ferenghi prostitute he couldn't actually pay, with no recollection of the previous night, and that things had gradually deteriorated from then on, one might imagine he wasn't feeling particularly pleasant. His mouth had the same taste of a bird bath, his tongue could have been trying to cultivate a small deciduous forest it was so furry, and you could sand down wood on his chin. Besides his personal problems, he felt that the rest of the crew of this cargo ship, the Meridian, seemed to be inflicting their problems upon him as well. There was Billian, a fat sluggish looking creature with large curly ears which he constantly itched and then flicked the loosened skin flakes across the room, and, more often than not, onto Laertes. The human, Al, tapped the same beat continuously, a droning whining beat that appeared to achieve the resonant frequency of Laertes sanity. He also had a second name that Laertes couldn't even begin to pronounce, ("Bebersobeberden..eno..nn... something....") and he seemed to also accrue some glee in introducing himself as it, and then explain to people, as though they had the brains of a Targ, how it was spelled. Arra, was not exactly irritating. Laertes was irritated by her, certainly, but had he tried to explain his irritation with her behaviour he would have looked a prat. The reason for this was that she was (or at least appeared to be) happy. And you can hardly blame someone for that. Darting about here and there, occasionally relieving the crew of some money with that characteristic paradoxical malevolent innocence, and whistling happy frolicky little tunes, which, had they had lyrics, would no doubt have contained words like, "bunny" and "daisies". Thankfully, thought Laertes, they had no lyrics. He slumped his unshaven face into his hands and groaned. As the tapping noises engulfed him, the jolly whistling hammering inside his skull like a cranial glockenspiel, and various bits of dead skin bounced across his lowered head, he thanked the galactic heavens that there was no baby on the ship. Laertes had always felt that there was some kind of magnetic attraction between him and babies in confined spaces. Where ever he traveled on commercial vehicles he was sat in front of, behind, or next to some bawling spewing little git, who'd as soon as eject the contents of his mouth at across your lap as look at you. Another piece of skin bounded of his scalp, and, with a small despairing yelp he bashed his head into the table on which it rested, making a pleasant (if painful) resounding noise. Everyone stopped. Silence hit the room with all the force of a large brick made out of candy-floss. In that comforting wash of negative noise, he felt everyone's quizzical gaze fall upon him. He thought it was best to stay it out rather than explain. After a few seconds of looking at him expectantly everyone returned to their pastimes. *** Rallak 6 approached. At last. -------- --NRPG-- -------- Kind of short, I know. But it's just a filler to get us to Rallak 6 and, at long last, onto the Gryphon. Lots of love and cheese and grapefruits and coypu, from Martin "I am NOT a botonist" Davies Last episode jack wrote... >Another piece of skin bounded of his scalp, and, with a small >despairing yelp he bashed his head into the table on which it rested, >making a pleasant (if painful) resounding noise. Everyone stopped. >Silence hit the room with all the force of a large brick made out of >candy-floss. In that comforting wash of negative noise, he felt >everyone's quizzical gaze fall upon him. He thought it was best to >stay it out rather than explain. > >After a few seconds of looking at him expectantly everyone returned to >their pastimes. > > *** > >Rallak 6 approached. At last. Arra walked toward the back of the ship as the silence disappeared. she noticed Toth sitting in the corner near the back mumbling somthing. Intriuged she moved closer and behind to see what Toth was holding and to hear what he was saying. She was only a few feet away when he spoke again and this time she recognized it as Cardacian. She still couldn't understand it though. He was holding a small computer and looking very intently at a pattern on the screen. after a few minutes of watching nothing happen, Toth spoke again but she almost missed what he said. "If you want to know what I am doing, you could ask?" he said turning around and showing one of his few smiles. "OK! Whacha doing here Toth? I heard you saying something and ....." she flashed a grin that just about said it all," I am soooo bored!" Laughing, Toth said, "well it just happens to be your lucky day. What I have here is the oldest most well know game in the history of the Human race. Would you like to play?" "Really?" Arra said skeptically remembering the long minutes spent in silence... "Well I guess its not for everyone. Maybee some other time then." Toth began shutting off the computer and getting up. "Oh please Toth I wanna learn..." Its something to do at least she thought to herself. "Yeah? OK then. This game is called Chess." said Toth as he sat back down. As he started explaining the game to Arra, she listened and tried to remembers all the rules. after the first thirty minutes of rules, she began to get fidgitty, so Toth decided to let her try her hand at the game. "Are you ready to try it out?" Toth asked Arra. She nodded her head vigorously, thankful that he was finally finished explaining. "Allright here you go." he handed her the computer andwent to get something to drink. About three minutes later as he was walking back he saw her jump up with a smile on her face and exclaim, "I WON ! I WON !" He smiled and sat down next to her. The people who had looked up to see what the commotion was went back to what they were doing and the hush that had followed Arra's triumph disappeared. "Let me see" Toth said reaching for the computer. When he looked he couldn't believe his eyes. He had accidentally left the game set on level ten. "How did you...." he said as he thought of his own lack of success on that level. "I can't even..." He lookd so funny that Arra laughed. Toth reset the game and handed it to her again, this time on level fifteen, the level that even other computers had been unable to succeed at. "Do it again." he said with a grin on his face. "OK" she said and sat down to play again. After a few minutes he got bored of watching her stare at the screen. He started thinking of the whole situation he had gotten himself into. "Here you go" said Arra cheerfully as she handed the computer to him once again on her way to the front, smilling the whole way. Toth realized why when he looked down at the game. She had won again, without even loosing one piece !!! There must be a glitch in the program he thought. Just then the captain spoke over the loud speakers. "Please return to your seats and put your landing restraints on. We will be arriving at twenty-seven O-clock Rallak 6 time." **************************************** NRPG: well the long awaited day is rapidly approaching. How long before our true journey begins... Tom Not all who wander are lost - J.R.R.Tolkien Oooo, lookit the extra tag! ^_^ "NC" stands for Non-Canon or Non-Continuity. whatever. this has absolutely NO relevence to the current (stagnating) Plot or the Arc we're trying to start; it's just for fun! ******* Previously: *Laertes fell into a Giant, Gaping Hole in the Spacetime Continium! good thing he was tied securely to Cap'n Jack. Unfortunately, Jack gave the end of the rope to Arra, who used it as a leash for her new Furby, which immeadiately fell in the Giant Gaping Hole. Arra promptly dove after it. Good thing for her she stole Toth-ra's Yo-yo & he had a tight grip on the other end. Whoops! looks like Toth-ra wasn't expecting Arra to pull so hard & whisked down the Hole, trying for a handhold along the way. But unfortunately he only found Jake & brought him along for the ride. Jake decided if he was going, then, by gosh, so was Cap'n Jack! he made a grab for the Cap'n, but missed! Jack chuckled, tripped on his untied shoelaces & fell into the Hole. oh no! whatever shall become of our intrepid heroes? ************ WTF was that?! scene switch *********** "I tell ya, i'm not *mumble* anymore! i *mumble! mumble!* so many darn clothes!" Naomi's grin was pure wickedness as she stuffed Arra into yet another heavy winter coat. "So small that one one is, needing more clothing she'll be!"she said cheerfully. "Now helping others that one shall, shoveling snow. Drifts of snow Crossroads Tavern buried have! " Handing Arra a snowshovel, Naomi shoved her out the back door. "Coming back, that one can, when of snow there is no more! not before!" Arra barely waited to get out of Naomi's sight before shedding her excess layers of clothing. Now able to walk without waddling, she made her way to the front of the Tavern. There, she found the rest of her crew who, in order to pay off some small furniture expenses from the last barfight, were busily shovelling snow away from the main entrance. The drifts they created reached the second story windows, giant, glittering mountains with a deep chasm between them. Snow flew in the air like diamond dust, glittering, sparkling, & generally being annoying to everyone & everything. It was so thick, no-one had noticed her yet. That gave Arra an idea. she scrambled to the top of a drift & struck a heroic pose. "Villians who dwell in the heart of darkness, repent!" She yelled & struck another pose. Jack sheilded his eyes & looked up. "Arra, get down from there, we've got work to do! We need to get finished so we can get back to... to..." he tried to find the appropriate word, but couldn't. "Waiting for something interesting to happen?" Laertes put in dryly. Jack gave him a strange look, but agreed. "I cannot!" Arra cried & dramatically whipped off her winter coat. underneath. she wore high-heeled boots, a small, frilly miniskirt, a low-cut v-necked sailor-shirt-looking top with a bouncy bow at teh bottom of the "V" & gloves to her elbows (1). "For I am a Warrior of Love & justice! I must vanquish Evil whereever it rears its villainous head! A Warrior of Love & Justice must never rest in her villigant attack on Evil! She has no time to waste cleaning snow! Innocent lives could be lost to the Enemy's dark claws if teh Warrior stops to shovel snow! I must punish Evil!" She posed again & wobbled on the heels. "Aren't you cold up there?" Toth-ra asked, leaning on his shovel & smirking. Arra blinked. "Actually, yeah. I'm Freez--YAAAAAAH!" During her speech, Jake had snuck up the drift & dumped a handfull of snow down her costume. Thrown off balance, she landed on her rump amidst the rest of the crew's laughter & glared up at Jake. "Baka (2)," she mumbled. "What'd you say?" Jake asked, wiping a tear from his eye. "THIS!" Arra yelled & jumped at him with a handful of snow. Jake dodged to the side & Arra started to slide down the drift. One of her high heels caught Jake around the ankle & with his added weight, they careened down the slope. They crashed into Toth-ra, Laertes, Cap'n Jack & the whole crew smashed into the base of the other drift with stunning force. They layed there, dazed, for awhile & tried to regain their breaths. Laertes looked up & his eyes widened. "Avalanche!" he yelled, or tried to yell. it came out more like a wheeze, but it was too late anyway. The crew of the Gryphon was buried under the falling drift. some time later, everyone resurfaced & looked at the now flat chasm. "All that work... we have to do it over again.." Toth-ra murmured. "you have a real talent for destruction, you know." Jack told Arra, who tried to look sheepish. He glanced over her & grinned evilly. "& such a talent must be rewarded..." Laertes & Toth-ra intoned solemnly. Arra looked wildly around at everyone, tried to escape, but couldn't push through so much snow. She was pelted by snowballs. ****** Happy Holiday-of-choise! Hope everyone enjoys their snow! i've had fun with mine! ^_^ ***** 1. just incase you weren't positive i OD'ed on my medication today, i've included a quick pic of Arra in a typical "Magic Girl" pose. if you can't get it, for some bizarre reason, it should be at http://members.tripod.com/~LdyTokoz/sailar.jpg (i also have a quick pic of "Tuxedo Laertes." Scary!). 2. "Baka" is one of the few japanese words i know & roughly translates into "idiot". i think.. ^_^;; Tokoz ;) (snowbound & a bit stir-crazy ^_~) From: Self To: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, eclipse@ionsys.com, 4sam@webkorner.com Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: bad pudding analogies Copies to: jchikami@net999.com, Tokoz@aol.com, Thomas Risner Date sent: Sun, 24 Jan 1999 13:42:08 -------------------------------------------------- NRPG -------------------------------------------------- Many many moons ago the crew of the Gryphon arrived at Rallak 6 but since we've been waiting for Joe (our beloved captain) to post for the past... ooh.. 3 or four months, we may as well conclude this part of the story now. If you, Joe, are actually in the land of the living, have not been possessed by aliens, and have not shunned technology to found a new Armish colony in Bulgaria, a post would be tres appreciated, mon ami. -------------------------------------------------- RPG -------------------------------------------------- So without further ado I ask you to cast your gaze upon a gargantuan structure of light metal architecture and symmetry that presently revolves around the planet of Rallak 6. Take a closer look, maybe, at a certain area beneath the forbidding scaffolds and blinking beacons, to a hollow in the station's roughened carapace, into which a craft, hugely diminished by the immensity of such an edifice, slowly enters. Inside this minute freighter, a pathetic insect to the space station's behemothic size, several sentient creatures are presently struggling to come to terms with their own insignificance. Yet beside this feeling of their lives being of miniscule importance to the general proceedings of the universe, some of them are also producing feelings of iritation and anger, as we shall now see. "Look, I can't pay that! You know I can't pay that!" shouted Jack slamming his fist into a bulkhead. "That's the price I'm afraid," said the alien more calmly, "You pay it or you don't get off the ship, as simple as that." Jack fumed for a few seconds before turning to his potential shipmates. "Alright, how much do you all have?" he growled glancing back angrily at their host. Toth, Laertes and Jake reached into their pockets and fished about. Confused expressions appeared on all of their faces. Slowly but with carefully executed dramatic blatancy, they turned to look at Arra. She grinned sheepishly, and produced a large number of credits from numerous different places of concealment about her person. She tipped them into the alien's outstretched hand, who then counted them quickly, then slid them into his back pocket. He then stood aside and opened the bay door. Slowly the crew trooped out through the airlock into the station's docking area, giving the smug looking alien glares as they past. Arra stuck her tongue out at the alien, as she silently and stealthily removed his new found wealth from his back pocket. "Right," said Laertes. "Where do we go now?" Jack pointed at a small flashing board on one of the walls. Having located the "You are here!" arrow, he traced his finger along the map to a construction bay several floors above them. "That's where we go," Jack grinned. They proceeded through the security check and through the thronging crowds dragging what luggage they had behind them. Jack led them to a small viewing bay which overlooked the construction area. Starships of all proportions met their stare. "Which one's ours then?" asked Laertes. Jack stood behind him and stretching an arm over his shoulder pointed in the direction of the craft. "That one," Jack said. "Which one?" "THAT one," Jack repeated with the infinite patience he only ever used for the deeply stupid. "What? You mean behind the beautiful ship you are pointing at?" "It IS the beautiful ship I'm pointing at." "Oh." Laertes was taken aback somewhat. He'd been expecting a small tramp freighter constructed out of chicken wire and baked bean cans, not an elegant ship such as this. Words like "woah", and "my god" and "flippin' heck" came to his mind. This ship was to spacecraft what chocolate, treacle and fudge pudding was to desserts. Talking of which, he realised he was also feeling rather hungry. "I hope it has replicators," he muttered. -------------------------------------- NRPG -------------------------------------- That's all. Just ANOTHER poly-filler post. Please Joe! We need you! Without you I have no idea of what I'm meant to be doing. PLEASE! Lots of love, Martin From: Tokoz@aol.com Date sent: Thu, 11 Feb 1999 23:27:50 EST To: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, jchikami@net999.com, martin.davies2@ukonline.co.uk, Tokoz@aol.com, JeanValjon@aol.com, 4sam@webkorner.com Copies to: jcarp@med.unc.edu, cgkreide@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Subject: [EC] Gryphon: A man walks into a bar.... [NS] -- i'm not quite sure if i got everyone's assignments right, but then, how'm i supposed to know who goes where? i'm just the engineer, not hte cap'n (hint, hint). ^_~ i can keep making up bizarre filler eps, or we could declare our beloved Cap'n temporarialy NPC & continue w/ the main Plot, or we could wait for his Author to reappear, or -- or we could do...something else. ::shrug:: makes no nevermind to me. ********* Last time, our intrepid heroes *finally* arrived at the station & got a glimpse of their new ship. guess what? it's not made of bailing wire & spit -- it's brand spankin' new! oh, & Laertes made a pudding analogy & wished for replicators. On with the show! ******* Eclipse Gryphon! presents: Ouch! don't walk into bars, they hurt! More insanity from the pastel dragon this episode is sponsored by the letter 'W' & the Inspector Gadget Work Fund. Help Gadget find a job! Go go Gadget unemployment aid! ******** <<"Oh." Laertes was taken aback somewhat. He'd been expecting a small tramp freighter constructed out of chicken wire and baked bean cans, not an elegant ship such as this. Words like "woah", and "my god" and "flippin' heck" came to his mind. This ship was to spacecraft what chocolate, treacle and fudge pudding was to desserts. Talking of which, he realised he was also feeling rather hungry. "I hope it has replicators," he muttered. >> "Yah!" Arra chimed in, "I'm starved!" Cap'n Jack beamed proudly as his crew made appreciative noises about his ship. My beatiful Gryphon, he thought, I finally found a crew for you. We're here. We're really here... ........... "hello, Cap'n?" Arra waved a hand infront of jack's face. "Yoohoo! Anybody home?" He came out of his reverie with a start. His crew stood around him, looking bored. "How d'we get to the ship? I -- uh, we're really hungry!" Jack pointed. "The Gryphon's this way" "Then lead the way, O Fearless Leader," Jake said, hefting his suitcases. {i'm not lost! it says "I are Here" scene switch} Later in the Gryphon, the new crew settled themselves in their sections: Laertes in the Weapons room, Jake in the Medical bay, & Arra in Engineering. Capt. Riley sat in his new captain's chair, marvelling at its "new chair" feel. Toth-Ra sat forlornly next to him in the first officer's chair. After finding his quarters & unpacking his beliongings, he wandered to the bridge, for lack of anything else to do. No-one told him where he was supposed to go, who (if anyone) he should help, or what he needed to do. He tried talking to the Captain, but Jack was so engrossed in exploring teh captain's terminal, he paid no attention to blonde man. So Toth-Ra sat in the overstuffed first officer's chair & looked aroudn teh bridge. again. The place positively screamed "new" -- everything was pristine & untouched. Screens gleamed, not even marred by figerprints, the railings still had their slight texture, no hands had worn them smooth yet. Lights blinked brightly, all systems go. Well, the installed ones, anyway. A few of the secondary & redundant backups needed to be installed, & some terminals had their perfect panels on the floor, waiting for specialists to finish tweaking their innards. Even the recycled air tasted new, since the filters were just installed a week ago. Toth-ra sighed. he was so BORED! He remembered his pocket chess game. Pulling it out, he settled down for several long rounds... ****** The medical bay was a mess! boxes of all sizes lay hapahzardly around the room, some open, others sealed tight. They made the room look like some sort of insane maze. White packing material draped over everything like a layer of snow. Jake muttered disgustedly about no-good, useless, foerign, union workers. That they left the extremely perishible live cultures out next to the antibiotics was simply unforgivable! He waded through the mess, weaving around boxes & medical supplies, noticed a surgical table where his desk should have been (he assumed his desk was around here *somewhere*, probably in several pieces all in different boxes), & finally found the refridgeration unit. THAT, at least, was running. Jake placed the live cultures in their appropriate recepticle & sighed. Just because the outside of the ship looked spectacular, he'd assumed the inside would be the same. Oh, it was spotless, to be sure, but Jake noticed some shoddy workmanship here & there. He'd have to tell the captain about it, AFTER the medical bay was functional, of course... ****** Laertes, by nature, was not a violent man, but he was fast becoming one. "I don't know what the devil a 'Quadruple Sub-terminal birelay Connection Jumper' is you blasted machine!" he growled & gave the terminal a vicious kick. A testament to the durability its synthetic composition, the panel buckled, but bounced back into place. Laetres snorted. Not even a dent. What good was taking out your agressions on a machine when the only thing you got for it was a sore foot? He tried to calm down, taking several deep breaths. The Weapons room was, of couse, perfect. All systems were working at maximum efficiency, & the computer list matched the actual weapons count down to the last ion. After such a sterling inventory in weapons room, he decided the mess hall needed his "expertise." "Look, " he pleaded, "All i want is a cup of coffee." Laertes' fingers flew across the mess' main terminal. Voice activation apparently wasn't up yet. No problem, he'd thought, the main terminal was easy to use. That was until messages like "Illegal system input reply," "unspecified link in subscreen detected," & "Terminal locked. Use terminal to release" started appearing. He punched more buttons. Coffee, was that so hard? just nice, comforting coffee. Then the thing started telling him obscure components were missing & simply MUST be replaced before it could do anything. Just what the heck WAS an Interphased Disilicon Transistor Transference Sub-module & what did it have to do with a big, steaming mug of coffee, anyway? Suddenly, the terminal made a very rude noise & another message flashed on the screen. Laertes' looked at it & blinked. & blinked some more. he rubbed his eyes in disbelief. the monitor held only one, single sentence: no coffee until you say the magic word! ******* This was Not A Good Thing, Arra thought. In fact, it was probably closer to a Very Bad Thing. An Awful Thing. An Unspeakable Thing. A Darned Near Impossible Thing. One can't *lose* a spaceship's warp core, it just doesn't happen! "But apparently it has, you silly girl, & somehow it's your fault," she muttered to herself. the computer terminal beside her suggested helpfully. "No, that's not it," Arra said. its metallic voice managed to sound timid as it echoed inside her head. Brought online a scant three weeks ago, the machines in engine room were totally inexpierenced & almost too eager to help the girl. "No... I KNOW i'm not seeing things." Arra turned to the center of the room, where the long, two-story warp core should have been located. Railings encircled a two-story hole, instead. There were no cables, no marks, no components to give a clue to the core's whereabouts anywhere. Arra sat on the immaculate floor, looking though the railings in disbelief. On her other side, a terminal traced power flow over a cross-section of the ship. Everything checked out nominal. She rested her head against the bars. Acccording to every diognostic she & the computer could think of, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the hull, systems, engine, weapons, shipwide efficiency, lights, paint, carpeting, closet space OR self-esteem. Except that the warp core's *nonexistant*, she thought. You can't get power from a frickin' hole in the ceiling, it just doesn't work that way! Arra sighed. Time to reason this out. The energy MUST be coming from somewhere; teh logs showed the ship operating without aid from teh station at least 2 weeks ago. None of the diognostics showed any deviance from text-book perfect numbers. No unauthorized entries, matience work, or supply deposits. No boxes labeled "Warp Core." No power fluxes, wobbles, bobbles or other irregulaities. Save for the fact she could stand in the place it should be, the warp core worked perfectly. Therefore, it must be somewhere on teh ship. "It's just a matter of finding it now!" Arra cried excitedly, jumping to her feet. She ran to the comm unit, pigtails flying, & depressed the "ship-wide channel" button. "Hey, everybody, if you see the warp core thingamajig anywhere, could you tell me? It's not in engineering -- itwasn'therewhenigothereit'snotmyfault -- but it prolly should be. Oh, & be careful when you touch it, it's fairly radioactive... i think. Um.. that's all." **** TBC? ::evil grin:: **** Waiting to see who bites, Tokoz ;) From: Self To: Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan , "'Sam'" <4sam@webkorner.com> Subject: [EC]Gryphon: Weasels and Warp Cores Copies to: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, jchikami@net999.com, martin.davies2@ukonline.co.uk, Tokoz@aol.com, Thomas Risner Date sent: Mon, 22 Mar 1999 21:49:35 Angry Malcolm banged the table with his bony fist. He was angry. He was Angry Malcolm. Opposite him sat a snivelling rodent with a long, thin and maneuverable snout that he intermittently delved into the protective folds of his thin spindly arms, lest it be hit by Angry Malcolm's roving hands. As Angry Malcolm shouted and banged his fists again, the creature's furry red ears flattened back against his skull and his lips curled up around his teeth in a pleading grin. His emaciated limbs folded over his body as he shrunk furthur and futhur into tight ball of shortly cropped red fur. "But Malcolm," he began to whine. Malcolm didn't let him finish. "Shut up!" he said screamed and bashed the table again. Angry Malcolm was a tall man with sunken cheeks and manic shifting eyes that stared out from pits of darkness beneath his brow. He looked like the flesh had been sucked from him, leaving just his pulsating muscles and bones rippling unpleasantly beneath his skin. His long balding head, was punctuated by seamingly random tufts of short grey-black hair that had receded far enough up his head to appear like a corona aroundhis sweating and forrowed brow. Eye brows twitching madly and his eyes swinging wildly from side to side he expressed his frustration at the creature opposite him who's name was Oscillious Farnghurting Purted Frame-os-Rod. Though much to his displeasure he found it always abreviated to Osrod, when not in the company of his own species. Malcolm pulled his fatless arms above his head and exposed Osrod to the unpleasant vista of his armpits, before slamming his fists upon the table again. "Bloody hell Osrod, you pathetic vermin!" he wailed. "How could you forget to order it? It's not like it's a bloody optional extra!" Malcolm proceeded to put on a voice which he assumed to be upper class. "Please check boxes if you wish these facilities to be included in your starship: replicators- check, holodecks- check..." His voice grew harsher and louder. "...Botanical gardens- check, warpcore- oh no I think I'll leave that one blank, don't you Osrod? It's not as though we need a bloody warp core is it? No- we'll just generate the power ourselves in little treadmills!" As he shrieked the last few syllabals he had dragged Osrod from his seat and held him up against the ceiling. At this point security intervened. "Is there a problem here, sir?" Asked one of the burly guards as he stepped up to the table. "Actually there is- this little pri..." Angry Malcolm's voice trickled into silence as he saw the secuirty guard pull out a heavy Disperser and begin to slap it into his open palm with a menacingly slow rythm. "No problem at all," Malcolm corrected. "He just wanted to... to... check how the ceiling tiles fitted together. Inquisitive little fellow, is Ossy here. Get's a quizical thought, and... well... has to carry it out. One of those people who have to touch everything they like." The man with the large Disperser was unimpressed. His name was McCauley, and due to certain discoveries of infidelity upon his wife's behalf with his senior officer, he was not in the best of moods. Which is why he slammed the Disperser into Angry Malcolm's grinning face, and induced one of the worst bar fights in the history of that space station. The fight itself is inconsequential to the plot on which we must focus, suffice to say that Angry Malcolm and Osrod were the only two living things in the bar by the end of the fight. Malcolm was alive because he had an uncanny afinity with violence. Osrod was alive because he had an uncanny afinity with cowardice and had crawled into an air vent. At the point where we rejoin the plot for all of five seconds of very important speech, Malcolm has ripped the vent in which Osrod is crouched from the ceiling and is looking directly into its ruptured end. "Osrod," cooed Malcolm. "Get me my warp core or I'll garotte you with your own intestinal tract." Malcolm let the forces of gravity pull the vent and Osrod onto the floor, and walked from the bar. *** "Hey, everybody, if you see the warp core thingamajig anywhere, could you tell me? It's not in engineering -- itwasn'therewhenIgothereit'snotmyfault -- but it prolly should be. Oh, and be careful when you touch it, it's fairly radioactive... I think. Um... that's all." Laertes would have replied to the message that had buzzed over the intercom but he was too enthrawled by the bizarre sight he'd just had the pleasure of viewing through one of the windows. A small freighter had passed by very slowly and very near to the window, and appeared to be pilotted and crewed by a small number of weasels that smiled and waved at him as they flew past. That's what a lack of coffee does for you he thought to himself... But what had been trailing behind the freighter in all its illuminescent glory had surprised him even more. Especially so when he read the small golden plate on the base detailing it to have been licenced for use on the Gryphon... which begs the question why it was going away from the Gryphon at an increasing velocity. "Arra..." he said cautiously over the intercom, "You don't remember lending our warp core to a small band of terracotta ferrets do you?" --------- NRPG --------- Phew. I'm afraid I haven't got us out of the situation we were in last time, just clarified it a bit more. Sorry. If there aren't any objections to this small diversion... :) From: Self To: Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan , "'Sam'" <4sam@webkorner.com> Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: Panic and Assorted Biscuits Copies to: Joe_Seeback@tfgl.com, jchikami@net999.com, Tokoz@aol.com, Thomas Risner Date sent: Sun, 27 Jun 1999 23:28:12 Since nobody has actually bothered to post since March I thought I'd use this as anexcuse not to do my much needed revision for my GCSE exams next week. The story ended last time with a group of rodents pinching the crew's warp core. As they socommonly do. And so what will our crew do?... in the innacurately named "Panic And Asorted Biscuits" or "How to steal a propulsion system in just 5 easy steps" *----------------------------------------------------------------* "Arra..." Laertes said cautiously over the intercom, "You don't remember lending our warp core to a small band of terracotta ferrets do you?" *----------------------------------------------------------------* Captain Jack sped down the walkway and along the Docks' promenade. The glow of the former Gryphon's warp core was only just visible on the other side of the bay. Jack was determined that he wasn't going to get this far to be outwitted by a bunch of marsupials. Laertes was some way behind the enraged Captain, and dropping further back. Maybe he needed to work out a bit more, he thought to himself. He turned back to see where the rest of the crew was. Much to his annoyance even Arra seemed to be catching him up. His pledges to himself to cut down on the Gorfian cuisine were brought to an abrupt halt as he collided with a disgruntled Klingon seated on a hov-bike sending all three components crashing into a bulk head. He clambered to his feet to see the huge mass of severely-pissed-off-alien unfold. The Klingon flicked out his D'K Tahg and slowly circled Laertes, emitting a low growling noise. Laertes did the wise, but not exactly honourable thing, and sped off on the Klingon's bike. The Klingon was understandably incensed by this action, and after a brief moment in which he removed a cyclist from a passing cycle with a well placed fist, he began pursuit. The ground between the two quickly diminished, but Laertes, pushing his newly aquired bike to the limits, was able to match the Klingon's speed and remained twenty feet in front. Smaller residents of the station dived beneath the anti-gravity wells that supported he craft as it sped above them. Others just had to leap out the way. The mayhem spred quickly down the long bay, as the two crafts terrorised pedestrains, and turned over stalls of fresh fruit and vegetables (as is customary in all chase scenes). The bay itself was a good 5 miles long, but soon the two jousting vehicles had reached the end of the straight, and spinning in 450 degrees Laertes managed to direct his bike down the adjoining bay. As the bike careered past one of the long viewing windows, Laertes caught a glimpse of the warp core, attached to the behind of a vessel in the dock ahead. Ignoring the beams of station security phasars he span his bike about and lept from it. He slid, rolled and bounced for quite a distance before finally slamming into a wall, whereas his bike, sent racing off in the exact direction in which he had come smacked straight into the bike of the pursuing Klingon, who had little to no time to react as he swung about the corner. The Klingon was blasted about, but not dismounted, and the bike beneath him lurched uncontrollably down the corridor, its nose scraping along the ceiling taking out light fittings as it went. The behind swung out into the force field surrounding the window, and suddenly repelled, caused the bike to jack knife vertically. The entire bike swung into the ceiling as it hurtled along, tearing itself apart, sending shards of twisted metal scattering along the ceiling in a shower of sparks. The Klingon had the good sense to leap off before this happened and was catapulted into a bone crunching collision into a bulk head. The docking bay opposite the slumped Laertes opened and a group of small ferret like creatures emerged only to be sent fleeing down the corridor as the charred remains of the bike sped after them. One creature was left standing inside the air lock, looking mildly suprised as his comrades were swept away. He was even more suprised, as the bruised and battered individual on the other side of the hall, limped across and punched him. Osrod awoke a short while later and as consciousness was sparingly distributed to his limbs, he realised his predicament. The bonds that tied him to the chair chaffed his fluffy wrists, and whatever clamped his paws to the floor really hurt. His eyes focussed on the bloody, oily and charred shirt of his captor, who was crouched over the vessel's controls. Beyond him was the large grey hulk of the ship Osrod and his crew had taken the warp core from. "Station security craft have just been dispatched, what do you want to do about it?" a voice chirped over the com. "I dunno. What does the captain think, Arra?" "Oh, he's not here right now. The rest of them got into a leeeeetle bit of trouble." Laertes sighed. "What?" "Well you know that large hariy fella you smacked over? Cap'n Jack and Jake and Toth thought it might be best to stop his friends from goin' after you before they turned you into a big messy stain. Ship's security weren't all that impressed. They're all in the brig." The craft shook violently as a tractor beam grabbed hold. Laertes swung about and clutched Osrod, who'd been trying to make himself as small as possible. "How," said Laertes with all the calm of a mildly deranged hyena, "Do I get rid of the tractor beam?" "W...w...what?" said Osrod, confused. The hand around his scrawny throat tightened. Meanwhile the crew, except Arra, were sulking in the brig. The Klingons continued to jeer and threaten their mother's from the adjacent cell. An officer named McCauley marched into the room. He was quite obviously having a bad day. By breakfast his marriage had broken up, lunchtime had seen his entire security team being forced to flee from a bar brawl, and now he'd only just recovered from a klingon knife wound and a severe kicking from a man who's identi-file claimed he was a doctor. He let down the force fields of the cells, those containing the crew of the Gryphon and the Klingons, and phasored them all unconscious. He then turned and walked out. With a flare of green Arra disabled the security vessel. Quickly she tractor beamed Osrod's ship and flew slowly out of the cargo bay. Evidently, ship's security had not expected the fugitive to have an acomplice on a ship that large, and had not got a sufficient security compliment to prevent it escaping. The USS Prescient was scrambled with little enthusiasm in an attempt to catch the ship. The pursuers though it a little pointless since the Gryphon must have warp capability and would be long gone before they launched. During this time, given to the apathy of the Prescient, the combined efforts of Arra, Laertes and Osrod (who was keen enough to get away from both the law and his debtors) managed to re-install the warp core. However it was proving difficult to get it functioning. The Gryphon was now obscured from the station by a large planet. Though this effort of evasion was hardly worth while. The Prescient's silhouette obtruded from the planet's horizon. Arra was on the bridge, where she was "trying to realign the multiphased-thingimy-thingy" as she put it. "Laertes?" she cooed, "That big ship's hailing us. Shall I speak to them?" Laertes was trying to work out from his "Capt. Jiffy-fit Guide To Warp Cores" just where the cable that fizzed and spluttered in his hand was meant to go. "Yeah, whatever." Arra put the Captain of the Prescient onscreen. A stern faced young gentleman appeared. "This is Captain Hewitt of the Federation Starship Precient. We demand th... oh hello." He looked mildly disorientated for a second, then smiled sweetly at Arra. "Is... err... Mummy or Daddy in?" Arra smiled innocently and fired several photon torpedos over and beneath the Precient. In sychrony the pre-programmed topedos swung about and detonated on the Precient's aft shield. Laertes gave a whoop of joy denoting the miraculous restoration of the core, and Arra quicly brought the ship to warp. After a few moments Hewitt's fine federation vessel stretched to a sparkling infinity and sped off in pursuit. ----------------- NRPG ----------------- Hey I posted! Isn't that weird. Well seing as Thomas, Jason and Joe haven't written for four times as long as the gap between my two most recent posts I've temporarily written them out of the script. They can organise a jail break if they like, but don't expect to be welcomed back if you're just gonna let the plot stagnate again. Yes that was meant to be ironically hypocritical in case you were wondering. Though you guys have been incommunicable, to the extent that I think Joe can't actually be classed as actually being alive. (Irony again since your life is probably what makes you incommunicable) Oh well. Lovely Lady Tokoz, the plot is all yours to grip in your teeth and shake about like a lion with an eating disorder. But please, keep Osrod, because he's much more interesting to write about than Laertes :) Lots of love Martin "Everyone ELSE found the exams easy" Davies btw if you were observant enough to notice: I started writing this before my exams and finished it afterwards. Hence the inconsistency. Oh well Previously: **we all (or most of us anyway, okay one of us) whip out our Industrial-sized feather dusters & dust off the old Gryphon! **Ferrets stole the warp core! **The crew unloads to chase down the offenders, or complain bitterly about the theft, or something **Laertes learns why one shouldn't mess with Biker Klingons (is that redundant?) **Jake, Jack, & Toth-Ra are stuck in the brig for *another* barroom brawl **Arra, Laertes, & Osrod, a cowardly rodent-like alien, manage to retrieve the warp core, get it working & escape the station, possibly not in that order. ********* Eclipse: Gryphon Presents: Lost Space Cases Because in space, noone can tell you which way is up ********** <> Everyone cheered. There were high-fives, jubilant hugs, & hearty back pats all around. Until Laertes noticed the Navigation display, that is. "Hey Arra, where are we going?" he asked. "Dunno." Laertes nearly fell over. "How can you NOT know where we're going? You plotted the course..." a niggling suspicion assailed him. "..didn't you?" Osrod took this opportunity to start edging ever so slowly towards the door. Arra shrugged. "Dunno know how to work all this stuff; never could get near the bridge on any ship i've ever..boarded." She made a vague gesture at the main viewscreen. "We're going thaddaway." "Oh really? I couldn't tell." Laertes rolled his eyes. Arra made a snide comment, which the brown-haired man returned in kind. Just then, Osrod stepped in front of the bridge doors. Their opening swoosh surprised the arguing pair into stopping mid-sentance. All three stood frozen for a second, then several things happened. The rodent dived through the doors, Laertes lept over the railing and grabbed at Osrod's tail, while Arra crossly yelled at the doors "Whaddya think you're doing?! Close close!" The doors snapped shut on Osrod's fluffly tail, as Laetres managed to tear a chunk of fur from the tail's tip. the rodent yelped in pain, then began wailing piteously. Thankfully, the partially closed doors muffled his cries somewhat. Arra sighed. "Okay, first thing, what're we gonna do about THAT thing?" ******* NRP: sorry for the go-nowhere post, but i really DON"T know what to do! ^_^; i dunno Osrod's chara very well, or what he even looks like (is he one of the ferrets?). I'm not too sure about the "missions" -- if we'd only agreed to tell the people that we'd take them, or if we'd actually taken them... O_o Tokoz ;) From: Self To: Sam ^_~ <4sam@webkorner.com> Subject: [EC] Gryphon : Physicists & Debris Copies to: Tokoz@aol.com, SyberAngyl@aol.com, dreamcatc@mindspring.com Date sent: Wed, 24 May 2000 19:56:06 Hey peeps. Now, I can't remember whether I posted this in the end, but I discovered it just a few moments ago and thought it was suitably directionless to be posted as a coninuation of the plot. I'll try and write the second half soon. Even if you have read this before, it'll serve as a reminder, which, after the amount of time since the last post, is probably in need :) Physicists & Debris or "How to employ a bad grasp of physics to negotiate tricky plot elements" Arra opened the doors and Laertes lept upon Osrod before he could make another attempt to scamper away. The whimpering alien found himself being lifted up by a vice like grip around his thin waist. Laertes shook him violently for no real reason. "We need a minimum of three crew members," he said to Arra, his eyes still looking over Osrod's slender snout. "So," crooned Laertes, "If our friend here wants all his limbs to remain attached to his body, he better think quite seriously about helping us avoid a very angry starfleet officer." Laertes paused to allow all this to sink in. "What can we call you?" Daring to open his eyes, Osrod said, in as regal a voice as he could manage with Laertes' hands squeezing vital organs, "My name is Oscillious Farnghurting Purted Frame-os-Rod." Laertes didn't seem too impressed. "What do normal people call you ferret-boy?" he growled. Osrod sighed. "Osrod." Osrod was sat down at tactical, where, pouting and grumbling, he set about laying in emergency defense manoeuvres for when they dropped out of warp. Laertes, having made sure Osrod was actually doing something useful turned to find Arra already occupying the captain's chair. She smiled sweetly at him. "Oh go and talk to the turbo-lifts or something," snarled Laertes as he pushed her out of the chair. He played with the helm controls and discovered that the were heading for a small binary system called Pyte, where, according to the computer, they would come out of warp and collide into a gas giant. Laertes decided it might be advisable to reprogram it. A small finger prodded Laertes in the ribs. He looked up mildly annoyed. "What are we going to do about cap'n Jack and Jake and Toth?" Arra said looking very concerned. Good point, thought Laertes. "Well, after we manage to escape from star fleet, I suppose we could go back to the station crawling with starfleet officers and angry Klingons, avoiding the patrolling starfleet flagships such as the one chasing us, circumvent the docking procedures and immigration controls, and break our three friends from the brig, and escape, unscathed, back to the vessel and proceed with the quiet life of a merchant vessel. Alternatively..." He paused for dramatic effect. "We could just bugger off with Jack's ship." Thankfully, Arra's morals seemed flexible on this matter, and she scampered off to play with Ops. About 3 minutes later they dropped from warp and burst into the Pyte system, dodging round the gas giant's third moon, where the Gryphon remained eclipsed from where the Precient was about to emerge. "The giant's magnetic field has disrupted any trace of their heading, sir." The Prescient's Captain Hewitt frowned in annoyance. He pulled himself from his chair and strode towards the helm. "They'll be behind one of the moons," he said, stating the obvious for the benefit of the stupider members of the crew. "What information have we got on that ship? I want to see it, now!" said Hewitt, pushing aside one of the ensigns from his post. "Oh, my," commented the rotund captain. "They've got quite a record; disrupting the peace, jail breaking, resisting arrest, disrupting the peace again, causing gross damage to starfleet docking bays, kidnapping, stealing space vessels and attacking a federation vessel." He paused. "It would look damned nice if we brought these guys in." "May I make a suggestion, sir?" said the ensign beside him. The captain nodded absent mindedly. "If we remodulate our deflector dish to emit a low level subspace pulse we might be able to detect the subspace field distortions of their engines when the eddies buffet their ship." The captain looked at him non-plussed. The second in command stood up. "But surely you would have to be able to compensate for the fact that the transition rebound might be diverted by the common subspace field lines of the gas giant?" "But of course, we'd have to supress that spacial distortion by modifying torpedoes to create a subspace sheer." "Wouldn't this also supress the distortion's of their engines?" said another officer. "Ah," chimed in the security officer, "Assuming the ship is in front of the gas giant, in relation to the plane of the sheer, it's resonance field will be caught with the sub space buffet before the supressed field lines are then encountered. If the ship is behind this plane then we still have narrowed down the search to just two moons." "Are you guys taking the piss?" asked the captain. His crew looked blankly at him. "Nevermind... It sounds like a good idea. Get it done, people." Meanwhile on the Gryphon, Osrod was having trouble describing the grave danger they were in. "But surely they'd have to be able to compensate for the fact that the transition rebound might be diverted by the common subspace field lines of the gas giant?" said Laertes. "Chill out- they can't and won't detect us." "Ah," said Osrod, "But our ship is in front of the gas giant, in relation to the plane of the sheer, it's resonance field will be caught with the sub space buffet before the supressed field lines are then encountered." "Oh... obviously," said Laertes, cursing the day he'd given up physics. "But that isn't the real problem," whined Osrod, "If the subspace sheer intersects any of the moons, it could cause them to break up because of the conflicting nature of the gravitational forces on either side of the subspace sheer." "Ummm... eh?" "DEBRIS!" cried Osrod, his reedy voice almost going out of Laertes range of hearing. "We'll be crushed by huge flying chunks of rock and destroyed and then we'll all be dead! Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead! And if we're not dead we'll be arrested." "Right. Then I suggest we develop a little subspace sheer of our own." Wtf is a subpsace sheer anyway? Ho hum... Well I'll guess I'll have to find out before I write the second half :) Oh and hello to our potential new members! Love Martin From: Self To: Sam ^_~ <4sam@webkorner.com> Subject: [EC] Gryphon:Torpedoes & Tapioca Copies to: Tokoz@aol.com, SyberAngyl@aol.com, dreamcatc@mindspring.com Date sent: Thu, 1 Jun 2000 20:51:13 >>>>>>> last time... "But that isn't the real problem," whined Osrod, "If the subspace sheer intersects any of the moons, it could cause them to break up because of the conflicting nature of the gravitational forces on either side of the subspace sheer." "Ummm... eh?" "DEBRIS!" cried Osrod, his reedy voice almost going out of Laertes range of hearing. "We'll be crushed by huge flying chunks of rock and destroyed and then we'll all be dead! Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead! And if we're not dead we'll be arrested." "Right. Then I suggest we develop a little subspace sheer of our own." <<<<<<< and now... The Prescient's crew hurried frantically through the white panelled halls of the ship, in order to get the modifications made in the shortest time. From the outside, this bustle was not apparent, and the craft hung in the galactic night like a large squashed tadpole. The comparison is perhaps not entirely apt, because, although Starfleet had begun to favour a particularly ugly kind of ship build that did bear striking resemblance to this variety of pond life, it was a lot bigger, made of metallic alloys and polymers and, very much unlike a tadpole, could annihilate moons with a single click of a button. Which was exactly what it was about to unwittingly do. Hence all the rushing about. There was also a large amount of rushing taking place on The Gryphon. Nobody amongst the crew knew how to modify torpedoes to cause a subspace sheer, and when dealing with large amounts of explosive a method of trial and error is probably not a very intelligent choice. Which goes to explain why the crew were employing this very technique. "Well," said Laertes, throwing down the small flashing tool in his hand. "This could either detonate and cause a subspace sheer..." "Or...?" prompted Arra. "Or randomly generate a recipe for tapioca. Do you have any ideas?" He must have been getting desperate if he'd resorted to consulting Arra. She sighed. "Why didn't you ask sooner?" "Because I don't like or trust you?" said Laertes, ignoring the rhetorical nature of her question. "Oh, yeah." Arra climbed on top of the torpedo and delved her hands inside an open panel on which Laertes had been working. Laertes, pleasantly suprised that she hadn't reduced them both to their constituent elements, asked her what exactly she was doing. "Shhh... I'm trying to have a conversation." Leartes waited patiently until she had finished poking about inside the torpedo. "Done," she chirped. "It'd be happy to detonate and cause a sheer in the plane you specified." "Is it totally normal for people to talk to explosives, and I just haven't noticed all these years, or are you a little freak?" Arra just smiled and bounced off towards the bridge, leaving Laertes to load the torpedo. Not so long after this the valient crew of the Gryphon awaited the launch of the Presceint's torpedoes, which emerged in due course, tiny streaks of light in the firmament, and swung giddily towards the gas giant. Immediately, the Gryphon's own armaments sprang into life, and ejected from the craft a torpedo that hurtled straight towards the moon closest to the Prescient. In a shower of sparks and flaming spacial distortion the Prescient's torpedoes exploded, slicing in a perfect plane of indescribable and incomprehensible nothing the distorting effects of the gas giant's mass. For a moment the world around the crew seemed to invert, as though someone had just blown a bubble over them. At the same time, the sheers cut into two moons, and although these ethereal discs themselves made no difference to the huge, compacted balls of rock, the contrasting gravities on either side of the planes did. Vast slices fell away from the satellites, crumbling into smaller pieces which flew, free from the giant's gravity. This sudden disbalance in mass caused the moons to veer in an insanely elliptical orbit, one hurtling straight towards the gas giant, and the smaller of the two flung outward. The Gryphon's torpedo finally detonated, ripping another moon to pieces in a similar manner. All of which, of course, happened quicker than a blink of the eye, so when the Prescient's subspace pulse was emitted, it encountered not just the Gryphon, who's location had already been revealed by its fired torpedo, but a very large number of objects, superheated from their recent geological Armageddon, hurtling in all directions. A very large chunk of rock in fact, still trailing magma like an interplanetary slug, was headed straight for the Prescient. They had little time to react, though, fittingly their brave Captain found some words to describe their on-coming fate and console the crew: "Shit! We're all gonna die!" he screamed and curled into a foetal postion. Just as the biblically proportioned ball of flame tickled the ship's shields, a miracle, also biblically proportioned, occurred. The sheer's effect suddenly ceased, like a bubble bursting, and the gravitational pull of the gas giant decided to take effect, grasping the errant meteor and tugging it back with such force that it stopped dead metres from the ship's dull grey hull. Slowly it slunk back towards the planet like a bad dog to its kennel, and joined the rest of the debris that was forming in a ring around the planet. When Hewitt finally realised that he was still alive, which took his sharply tuned mind some considerable time and effort, the Gryphon was long gone. "Bollocks," was all he could muster. "We've lost them." "Not necessarily, sir," offered his second-in-command. "I doubt they could have survived the debris." "Very unlikely, sir," nodded another sagely. "Most likely their blasted ship spun straight into the gas giant," chimed in the helmsman. "Melted." "Undetectable." "Definitely, undetectable, sir." "Are you sure they couldn't have survived?" Hewitt asked, eyeing his crew suspiciously. "Absolutely, sir. No way at all." Everyone beamed at him. "Well done, sir! We sure taught those ruffians a lesson," his second-in-command slapped him on the back. "Oh," said Hewitt uncertainly. "Oh, good. Champagne all round then, lads?" "Promotions all round, sir," his second-in-command prompted jovially. "Absolutely." * Perhaps a foot-note ought to be spared for the Gryphon's torpedo, which in its last moments produced an absolutely fantastic recipe for tapioca, that would no doubt have supersceded any previous recipe in taste, appearance and calories, and, such was its greatness, been etched into every cookery book then on, had the torpedo then not promptly exploded and taken with it all its culinary mastery. -------------------- Well, that about ties up that plot digression. How about we try and decide on some kind of solid purpose the Gryphon can pursue? Ta da for now! Martin Date sent: Fri, 16 Jun 2000 13:54:24 -0400 From: Sam ^_~ <4sam@webkorner.com> To: 'Sam' <4sam@webkorner.com>, Martin Davies , Jason Chikami , Tokoz , "Robert A. Voitle, Jr." , Rebbeca O'Brien , Joe Seeback Subject: [EC]GRYPHON: The Beat Goes On... NRPG: This is just a refresher for Rebecca, and a little bit of background for the rest of you. ^_^ This will also bring Rebecca's character Niera onto the Gryphon... And now... on with the show.... lol. ^_~ RPG: SPACE STATION BAJOR ONE - CROSSROADS TAVERN Naomi smiled graciously at the new customer as she seated herself, propping her elbows on the bar top. One look at Naomi's sharp, pointy teeth however, and the Cardassian woman found the ashtray in front of her to be begging for her to examine it. She picked it up idly and casually turned it over in her hands for a few moments before setting it back down. She shrugged out of her jacket, draping the leathery, dull blue article of clothing on the back of her chair. Her black and grey military fatigues seemed somewhat incongrous with the jacket, but Naomi paid it no attention. She was paid to greet guests and occasionally tend bar, not be a fashion critic. "Pleased be I, serving you drink to be." Naomi offered, her voice a soothing, purring sound. The woman blinked, then seemed to put together that the strange being in front of her was offering her a drink. She took in Naomi's appearance as she asked for a Terran cola. The creature before her was like none she'd ever seen before. She was roughly about 5'8" or so, slender, and covered with a fine black fur that looked incredibly soft. Other than the fur, the sharp teeth, and the pointed ears that looked rather Vulcan in origin, she had the basic form of a Terran female. Her eyes were large and a brilliant green, with vertical pupils like those of a feline. Her hair was very long, and a shiny silver color. A pretty contrast to her pelt. Naomi set the glass of fizzing cola in front of the woman, and plopped a straw into the glass for good measure. "Welcoming you, to be pleased is this one. Naomi called, this one is. Be calling you, may I, what?" After a moment's pause, while she mentally rearranged the syntax to make sense, the woman replied with a smile, "My name is Niera Rajat. Pleased to meet you, Naomi." Naomi smiled back, and this time the sharp teeth didn't seem quite as menacing to Niera for some reason. "Long staying, be you?" Niera shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. "I don't know. I might be here for awhile. I just spent ten months on the "Dust Wanderer" and it's being sold for scrap out of docking bay right now." "This ship, how has it become so? There is mentioned no incidents on news nets." Naomi asks, slightly interested. The Cardassian woman smiles with slight embarassment. "Well, it actually fell apart. The systems just burned out all at once this time. I was lucky enough to get communications up before the hull repairs pulled apart. They had to tow it in. Beyond repair." Niera drank some more of her cola and fiddled with the straw while looking around the bar. It had been probably the most frantic, stressful experience she'd ever been through. As soon as you'd jury rigged one thing back together, something else had melted itself into a useless lump. And the eery creaking in bulkheads that kept reminding you of the vacuum outside...nasty. Naomi moves some glasses onto a shelf and then turns back to her. "Looking, for employment now, you are? Repair communications?" Niera looks up, a bit surprised. "Well, I was in charge of tactical and took care of the weapons systems but I ended up doing communications too. Our engineer barely could keep the engines going. You know of any employment opportunities around here?" Naomi half-closes her bright green eyes and scrutinizes the customer. "You have experience, how long?" Wyeth might know of somewhere this suddenly jobless one might be of use. "Oh, seven, eight years. Seems a bit longer than that sometimes," Niera says, shrugging again, "You know how it gets." "Yes, it is like that. Please, your drink to enjoy." Naomi gracefully moves down the counter to attend to other business. Niera nods. NRPG: This catches us up to the point of getting her to the ship... and now, onward. RPG: Naomi moved gracefully down the counter and went in search of her employer. She knew that he would be interested in this new customer. She found him marking off a checklist of supplies that had just arrived, in the storeroom. "Wyeth, pleased be I telling you new recruit found for you have I." Naomi purred with a large smile. Wyeth returned her smile indulgently. Some of the patrons occasionally complained about her odd syntax, but he found her to be quite charming and very easy on his eyes, so he ignored them. "Indeed? Most excellent, Naomi. Where might I find this new personage?" "At the bar be sitting she. Terran cola drinking of all things be. Known being Niera Rajat be she." She held out her hand for his list and he relinquished it quite readily. He hated the small details of running his business and was happy for the opportunity to let Naomi do the detail work. He left her to what he considered a grind and went in search of Niera. He found her still sipping her cola at the bar, looking interestedly around at the other patrons. He took up a position behind the bar opposite to her and struck up a conversation. "Hello, I'm the proprieter of this humble establishment. Allow me to introduce myself... Wyeth Kithaine de Danaan." He flourished a small bow in her direction. "I understand you are in need of employment? On a space faring vessel?" Niera looked surprised and murmured an assent. "Excellent... as it happens, I know of a ship in desperate need of more good crewmen. Would you be interested? It would require immediate depature, I'm afraid... Are you available now?" "Am I... and how. Now would be great!" Niera had been a little worried about finding another post before her meager funds ran out. Now that didn't appear to be a problem, and she was really grateful for the break in circumstances. She certainly deserved one after her last ship, that was for sure. Wyeth indicated for her to follow him, and she slurped the last of the soda before hefting her duffel to her back and slinging her jacket over one shoulder. She followed him to a small booth at the rear of the small tavern. He invited her to have a seat in the booth and then joined her on the opposite side. She heard the hum of an energy field flaring to life, and then the violet colored man before her traced some symbols in the air and muttered something she couldn't quite hear nor understand under his breath. Suddenly she felt an odd wrenching in her gut and then she was... someplace else! She glanced around, somewhat disconcerted to say the least. There appeared to be a rather large weasel operating the Weapons board... Niera shook her head and looked again. Yep, still there. Huh. And there was a little girl running the Engineering console... She cast a worried sideways glance at Wyeth. At least the guy at Helm looked normal. She took in the fact that the Captain's chair was empty as she finally took note of Wyeth's conversation with him. Apparently Wyeth had just been told that the Captain was missing... great, just great! Wyeth gazed at Laertes unpreturbed. "Oh dear... oh my my my my my, yes... well, it would seem I'll have to take the matter of my fee up with the good Captain Jack at another time... I must however, be running along right now. My portals are of short duration, you understand. Good luck, my dear." And with a small salute in Niera's direction, Wyeth took a step backwards and disappeared. "Hey, wait a minute... you can't just leave me here with a child, a weasel and no ship's Captain... " Niera started, but it was too late... Wyeth was long gone. Niera looked back from the empty space where Wyeth had just been, to find all eyes on her. "Oh... sorry. I didn't mean any offense.... I was just surprised, that's all...." she let her voice trail off uncomfortably. Arra, being the unflappable and irrepressable little imp that she was, didn't let it phase her one bit. She bounced off of her chair and nimbly avoided Laertes as she moved to take Niera by the hand. "That's okay... lots of people think I'm a little girl... most of the time, I let 'em." She grinned up at Niera. "Come on, I'll show you to a cabin you can have all to yourself!" NRPG: Enter Niera Rajat.... hey Joe... you still gonna catch up to the crew? You need to post regular-like if you are, lmao. Otherwise... your ship just got pilfered from under ya.. lol. ^_^ Sam ^_~ -- *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Work like you don't need money, Love like you've never been hurt, And dance like no one's watching. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* NRPG: sorry this took so long to get done -- my mother threatened me with a much-needed reformat, and i actually lost the draft while packing my harddrive off onto zips! Of course, the reformat never came... >_< Not much in this post; i need to brush up on my Star-Trek-ese. B'sides, those big decisions are for captain-like-people, right? ;) ***** Previously: -- Osrod expounded on the physics of shearing planes, and a photon torpedo skilled in the culinary arts sacrificed itself to allow Our Intrepid Heroes an escape from the Federation security vessel chasing them. -- Niera Rajat, recently of the rather..er, scattered "Dust Wanderer," became even more recently of the rather..er, lost "Gryphon." ******* Eclipse Gryphon Presents: Exposition -- in which Arra causes trouble. Again. *********** Written by Everyone's Favourite Cat-Girl... i think... <> "It's really really neat an' you can put all your stuff in there an' it's got a bed an' a table, but no chair yet 'cause they weren't unpacked an' we can't find them though we've not had much of a chance to look," Arra chattered while she walked, mostly to cover her intense scrutiny of her new crewmate. Cardassian, but maybe not that bad, Arra thought. She'd at least done something to make her hair interesting, and that jacket looked real. And her new crewmate didn't snarl or growl try to kill anyone when she first got here. Or maybe Klingons did that. Arra tended to get Cardassians and Klingons confused, mostly because one large, meaty hand looked very much like another when it was coming for one's throat. The last time she tried to con a Cardassian, her poor travel-trunk ended up with a sizable hole in it. Oh well. THIS cardassian didn't seem armed, and probably had neater stuff! With a mental shrug, she tried to catch up with what her mouth had been doing all this time. "an' this is th' railing, isn't it neat, an' it doesn't have any fingerprints or anything on it yet 'cause we haven't had much of a chance to use it what with the warp core going missing an' all an' --" "Hey, wasn't that an empty cabin back there?" Niera finally managed to break in. Maybe this small female was something other than a human child like she said, but her actions had yet to disprove Niera's initial impression. She wondered if maybe the girl was related to the older human on the bridge. Actually, she wondered more about where she was, where the captain was, and what in the world Wyeth thought she could do here -- besides baby-sit. She doubted the child knew very much; they spent fifteen minutes on a walk Niera could have done in three. Belatedly, Niera realized the child had led her into the cabin she mentioned and now sat behind a coffee table (the lone piece of furniture besides a bed and the desk) grinning up at her with an expression she thought only crooked Ferengi mastered. "Hey," Arra chirped, producing a red plastic ball and three blue cups from the air, "d'you wanna play a little game?" [What? Don't you trust me? scene switch!] Back on the Bridge... Laertes watched Arra attach herself to Niera, and almost felt sorry for the Cardassian. At least now he didn't have to worry about the little imp persuading the ship to crash into an asteroid at warp Nine. or something. That thing with the torpedo was positively creepy. Of course, now it was just Osrod and him on the bridge, looking at a painfully empty captain's chair. "Um... yes... well... " Laertes finally managed. "Yes...?" Osrod timidly agreed. "Mmmm... didn't Jack say he had some sort of missions lined up?" Osrod shrugged. "who's Jack?" Laertes sighed. Things like this just never seemed possible a few weeks ago. Now it looked like *HE* was going to have to become captain, at least for a while. He'd have to find jobs for his "crew"... make life-or-death decisions... fill out all that Captain-like paperwork... and worse, keep Osrod or Arra from selling or stealing or exploding the ship while his back was turned... Just then, the bridge doors opened, revealing Niera and Arra. Or rather, it revealed Niera holding Arra by one of her long pigtails, hands pinned behind her back, and Arra trying to twist around and -- bite off Niera's fingers, as nearly as Laertes could tell. The Cardassian frog-marched her captive to Laertes. She reprimanded him about teaching his children not to steal, while Arra declared hotly that she'd done nothing wrong. Eventually, after adamantly refusing any relation to Arra, Laertes managed to get everything sorted out ("she tried to steal my jacket!" "It fell off the chair!" "I was still WEARING it!"). Deciding that a little (or a lot of) exposition never hurt anyone (too much), he guided Niera to the captain and first mate's chairs and began recounting what he knew of the Gryphon's misadventures to this point. Freed from Niera's grasp, Arra wandered over to the navigator's chair. After a suspicious glance at Osrod, who was listening to Laertes' tale with interest, she slid into the chair and whispered a greeting to the terminal. She'd always wanted to be a navigator -- piloting a starship through the vast galaxies, controlling all that power with the push of a button, having one small miscalculation mean a horrible and fiery death in the heart of a star... Well, maybe she DIDN'T want to be a navigator, after all. But the terminal certainly was interesting. Arra pushed a few random buttons and got a very indignant reply: "I am NOT crazy! ...it was just that your controls are sooo very fascinating I couldn't help but touch them." The terminal sounded mollified to Arra and quickly outlined to the girl its functions and abilities. "Say! Can you tell me where we are then?" She asked when it was finished. In her head, Arra heard the machine's accusatory tone and bristled. "hey, that wasn't my fault! ..er, mostly. Can't you, I dunno, find somewhere we could get directions?" "Yeah, that." Arra giggled, "make it so!" **** Tokoz ;) Directions and Directives >>> Last Time(s) <<< + Niera joins our merry crew. + Arra annoys her. + Hell, Arra annoys everyone! + Laertes laments the responsibility of command. (Hah!) + We discover the computer does not have the requisite navigational data for this sector. (Cue dramatic chord, if you please.) + Arra decides the crew need to get directions at the local M-class planet. The view screen winked into life, revealing a not entirely pleasant looking creature with a wide and particularly toothy grin. "Greetings venerable one," said Gulfem, the captain of Space Station Pitt 3, and gestured gracefully with his hand. Laertes returned the wave uncertainly through a haze of slight static. "What service might I perform for you, dear sir?" Gulfem's extensive smile gave the impression of splitting his face in half. Whilst Laertes would be the first to admit that he wasn't greatly adept at reading the character of others, there was something about this man that strongly suggested that he would happily eat his own children. "Well," said Laertes, and cleared his throat. "We were just passing and wondered if you might have extensive navigational data of this sector. We seem to have. misplaced ours." He shot an accusatory glance at Arra, who stuck out her tongue. "Indeed, indeed?" Gulfem's collection of fangs spread out across his face. Laertes wondered briefly if he suffered from mouth ulcers. "Perhaps you have heard of the expression, there is no such thing as a free transponder coil? Yes? No?" Laertes nodded wearily. "And information these days is, oh, so expensive," Gulfem continued. "What do you want?" Laertes sighed. "Please, we must discuss. For the moment, you may dock in bay 4-N. If you could send a manifest of your cargo and saleable equipment we will, I 'm sure, be able to come to a very agreeable arrangement." The comm. closed. "Why do I have the feeling," Niera muttered, "that the arrangement's agreeability will be rather one sided?" Gulfem had been surprisingly lenient with his demands, probably realising that the crew had nothing of value. Instead of gutting the Gryphon of facilities or reporting their location to Starfleet he had come up with an entirely different proposition, which he insisted on delivering in person. As such, Laertes and Niera were now sitting in a comfortably furnished office, with lush carpets, disgraceful wallpaper and pot plants that seemed to have a monopoly on the horizontal surfaces. Gulfem was seated on the other side of a large shiny table, his manic visage sandwiched between two bonsai trees. "I see that you've had a little trouble with the authorities," he said chidingly. Laertes would have taken offence at the patronising tone but he could all too easily imagine the captain biting his hands off. "Which makes you perfectly suited to the job I'd like you to accept." Impossibly, Gulfem's smile broadened. He tapped on the desktop display. "Audrey, darling, would you be so kind as to send in Ms. Livingston. Thankyou." A door, partially obscured by the miniature Leylandii that were dotted, seemingly at random, across the carpet, hissed open and admitted Ms. Livingston. [NRPG] Well, it's been a while, huh? Chris, could you follow up with your character outlining her requirements? A physical description would be useful, too :) Hope you peeps are well. Martin ======================== Diplomacy is the art of saying "nice doggy" until you can find a large rock. ======================== ++++++verbalchilli.com++++++ ======================== Ms. Livingston walks through the door, right on cue. She's a human woman, perhaps teetering on the far edge of thirty, dressed conservatively and expensively in a cream silk suit, skirt to mid-thigh, pearl earrings, matching string of pearls around her neck. She's beautiful, perhaps a bit self-consciously so: hard to tell how much of this might be engineering, as opposed to genetics, but as any runway model can tell you, the only necessary component is thinness-- everything else about the Look is constructible, and clearly this woman is taking no chances. The cost of her skin care regime alone would feed a Bajoran village for a year-- but she /does/ have that classical, fair, peachy-pink glow; and the classically clear blue eyes; and the classically well-proportioned Anglican nose; and the classically light blond hair, pulled back into a classically severe braided knot at the nape of her classically long neck. She is everything that is fresh and cool and bright: if Cinderella were going to a board meeting instead of a ball. Either she won the genetics jackpot, or her plastic surgeons have retired rich. Probably the latter. In short, she simply screams the restrained good taste and unconscious arrogance of old money, and her first words do nothing to dispel the impression: "Thank you, Gulfem," she says dismissively, dodging the local flora and striding over to stand in front of his desk in front of Laertes and Niera. She spares nary a glance for her host, maybe worrying he'll turn her to stone if she does. Gulfem snorts and smacks his extremely lengthy lips, making introductions. "Ms. Livingston, the crew of the Gryphon, Laertes Ossern and Niera Rajat." Either too rude or too stupid to know to reverse the process, he leans back in his chair, looking satisfied. He's perfectly delighted to be rid of this problem. The problem, meanwhile, examines Laertes and Niera thoughtfully as she extends her hand to Laertes, then Niera. "How do you do." It's not a question. "I understand your ship and crew are available to do me, and my colleagues, a favor." She waits, barely, for a nod from Laertes, then continues. "You should not find it too onerous a task, I hope: all we require is my safe passage to, and return from, Romulus. My final destination will be named later, but first, I require speedy and private transport to Romulus." This time, she waits for a response, unsmiling, her dour demeanor giving the barest hint that maybe she's really not going to a ball. [NRPG] Howdy, peeps! -C