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Bob Figaro

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About Bob Figaro

  • Birthday 06/24/1995

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  1. What in the name of everything holy was going on here? This was supposed to be someplace where he couldn't screw up too badly. Someplace that he could just fit in to put some time between him and, well, himself. It was to be a period for adjustment, contemplation and other psychological rubbish that one might find spewing from the mouth of a counselor. That was the reason for the assignment aboard a tugboat in the first place! What the hell was a tugboat doing with a synchronized secondary warp reactor and sensor reflective multi-layer hull plating?!? What the hell was a tugboat doing with, wait a second, did this footnote actually say cloaking device?!? What the hell was a tugboat doing with a…with a…with whatever the hell that was on Deck 13?!? This wasn't a tugboat! This was some Admiral's perverted attempt to compensate for being bullied as a child by building a planet killing spaceship on steroids!!! He was having the sudden urge to reach out and kill someone. Again. Though, for all this, his actual posting within the engineering section did not really bother him all that much. The duty schedule already showed signs of being able to be easily manipulated. In the first fifteen minutes, Figaro had been able to identify at least ten junior officers so bent on impressing the department chief, who possibly had the entire "mightier than though" complex developing, they would handle almost all of his duty shifts for the next month alone. At least that aspect of Starfleet seemed consistent aboard this "thing" that was attempting to pass for a Nebula-class starship: everyone wanted to suck up to the boss. It seemed the people aboard this ship might be taking that to an entirely new level. Well, almost everyone. Bob was going to have to find a balance, and do so quickly, to deal with the newest developments. He had been a survivor and today had been no different. Of course, his best acting job had likely been the attempt to pretend he had been briefed about the "modifications" that had come to light. It wasn't as if this was a bad thing, there clearly was some potential for advancement here. In addition, in the long run this posting might give him everything he wanted and more. But the long term might also present problems. If he was reading this correctly, the entire ship only had a crew of about two hundred. He might actually have to work here, something that was to be avoided at all costs given the circumstances. Why get tired working only to be promoted so you can do more work? Why open yourself up to the possibility of…well…that. Figaro was starting to understand the potential benefits to his rank. His lack of a pre-assignment briefing was starting to become a problem though, although it was doubtful it would have much impact. But there wasn't really time for that at the moment. He needed to read this executive summary on the ship's command and control systems. For some reason, Bob was certain it was going to be needed in the future…one way or another.
  2. Biographical Record: Name: Bob Stewart Figaro Species: Human Gender: Male Rank: Lieutenant Junior Grade Current Assignment: U.S.S. Manticore, NCC-5852-A Birthplace: Auckland, New Zealand, Sol Birth: Stardate 48106.27 - 29 Terran years Height: 1.79 meters Weight: 86 kg Hair: Dirty blonde, receding Eyes: Hazal Education & Accreditation: - Graduate of Starfleet Academy Officer Training program - Graduate of Starfleet Academy Engineering School - Completion of Starfleet Academy Flight Training certification program - Completion of certification program, Starfleet Corps. of Engineers Summary: Bob Figaro entered Starfleet Academy later than most of his peers. His tenure at the institution has no remarks, positive or negative. Completed coursework placed Mr. Figaro in the fortieth percentile of the class. Strong areas of strength were noted within theoretical warp field mechanics and impulse system functionality. Marks of concern existed in areas of proactive maintenance procedures, command/control systems and power regulation subsystems. Upon graduation, Ensign Figaro completed required certifications and was accepted into a position within the Starfleet Corps. of Engineers. During this period, he completed work on eleven non-classified team projects with specialization on warp reactor refit techniques with concentration on proposed improvements without requiring hardware replacement. Several commendations are noted from superiors regarding Mr. Figaro's work ethic and dedication. Promoted in rank to Lieutenant Junior Grade, Mr. Figaro was promoted in position to Assistant Team Leader for an undisclosed project. A remark is noted in his file regretting the sudden and abrupt decision for transfer from the S.C.E. with reentry remaining highly desired by superiors. Service History: - Graduated Starfleet Academy, Stardate 50507.06 - Assigned, Starfleet Corps. of Engineers R&D Facility Triacus, Stardate 50508.12 - Assigned, Starfleet Corps. of Engineers Facility Inferna Prime, Stardate 50612.31 - Letter of Commendation, Stardate 50704.26 - Letter of Commendation, Stardate 50801.12 - Promoted, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Stardate 50803.20 - Assigned, Starfleet Corps. of Engineers Facility Utopia Planetia, Stardate 50808.01 - Assigned, Starfleet Corps. of Engineers Facility Inferna Prime, Stardate 50902.19 - Letter of Commendation, Stardate 50911.04 - Assigned, Starfleet Corps. of Engineers Facility Undisclosed, Stardate 50912.01 - Assigned, U.S.S. Manticore NCC-5852-A, Stardate 51010.12
  3. That continuous thumping noise just wouldn’t go away. Every second it was going off and it was really starting to get on his nerves. There had been enough headaches for one day, one week, hell even the year. Glancing around, it took the human of twenty-nine years to figure out the source of the disturbance. Legs crossed, his foot was nervously kicking the edge of the nearby armrest. The figure sighed and let out a deep breath, attempting to release the tension he was feeling and not to show how nervous he really was. So far, the last five days had gone relatively smooth. The first test for him had been the travel orders issued back on Starbase 32. The Maxia system’s activity had made it a good transition point. The base itself featured over four hundred ships coming through every two days. This presented some unique advantages and options if the need existed. However, the backup plan had not been needed. Records had been transferred on schedule, medical documentation revised accordingly, paperwork updated and his credentials cleared him to board just as they should have. Like dominos, things had fallen into place from there. By the time his ship had departed, the transfer orders had also permeated the Starfleet computer network. The universe now knew he had a final destination, although the man had made the decision himself days before. The key part here had been the lack of any change in Starfleet protocol for the last hundred and fifty years. If someone had materialized from the 23rd Century, they wouldn’t have a problem knowing what forms to file and how to get on a new starship within the fleet. This was a good thing, since it had been so long since his last transfer. But it also created another problem. Given all of the options available to him, something that was actually comical when you really thought about it: where would he go? For awhile, the thought of taking a posting on Earth at Starfleet Command seemed like a good option. After all, there was something to be said for travel and being as far away as possible. Yet, the concept of actually going home was not as appealing as it might have been to others. Some reasons were obvious, others were more complicated. Baggage might be a concern and ever since the entire neural parasite thing in 2364, well, enough said. There then was the option of taking up residence on Communications Relay Station 194. They were small, would give him a lot of time to himself but they were also…small. The one available assignment was near the Klingon border. This also provided some advantages but transportation could be an issue. If he ever wanted to leave, it would take two days for Starbase 212 to send out a shuttle. Given recent events, that probably wasn’t the best idea. Besides, it wasn’t as if he really liked Klingons all that much anyway. In the end, it seemed the most logical option to keep a lower profile at this point in his career. So, the assignment orders had put him aboard one of the most unappealing ships there were…a tugboat. This seemed to provide the best mix for him at this point. He would be mobile, something positive given his previous accommodation, and would be someplace that he couldn’t screw up that badly. I mean, after all, an eleven year old could figure out how to recalibrate the targeting scanner of a tractor beam, right? Now there was a nagging question in the back of his head. During the processing of the assignment orders there seemed to be a hiccup, initially causing a moment of panic the orders might not have actually gone through. No one wanted to have to take their second choice, especially him and especially right now, nor did he really want someone taking a second look at anything. But why had it required a secondary verification from the Inspector General’s office? It wasn’t as if getting that had really been a problem for him, but why had it asked? Maybe it was because he moving with such a low rank, but that didn’t really make sense either. Regardless of the problems, one fact remained. He had a destination and was set is move forward with life. Lieutenant Junior Grade Bob Figaro was ready to get going, again.