Craven

TOS: Cant comment, never been able to sit thru one episode TNG: First season (Shades of gray) DS9: First Season VOY: Pretty much ALL of it, they just have horrible characters in that show, a few goodies but not enough to save it ENT: I cant even call that Trek, its that bad Movies: The Motion Picture, probably one of the WORST directing and editing jobs Ive ever seen in my entire LIFE, 45 min of exposition and a 10 minute scene of just approach shots of the enterprise. HORRIBLE Final Frontier - Never been able to sit thru it. Nemesis - Only because they killed off data, other than that it was tolerable But I do have to say that the BEST of all the films is Insurrection, mostly because its the Quintessential Next Gen Movie

YEEEEE HAW Canadian Women face a team in the gold medal round for the first time thats not the USA! ITS IN THE BAG!......but if we lose its gonna not be so very nice.

"Thats what he gets for parking in the captain's spot!"

<<yeah I know its another repeat log, I just moved it here since its more appropriate than the Acad>> "Medically I can't seem to find any problem's with you Ensign." Doctor Bashir said softly to the young man seated on the biobed. "You say you've been having headaches and an ache in your artificial arm?" "Yeah," the young man winced, "bloody Borg technology has never hurt like this before." "Borg technology? Your Starfleet Medical Record states that this arm was grafted by Lore, not the Borg." the Doctor looked somewhat puzzled. Jack Craven gave a sigh, "Eh, its a long story, my stay with the rogue collective. Yes it was Lore that grafted the arm but he used the Borg technology on the scout ship to do so. You've no doubt picked up the internal circuitry embedded in the endoskeletal structure of the arm?" Bashir looked down at his medical tricorder momentarily before replying, "Well yes but according to your record, and by your own formal account during Starfleet Intelligence's formal inquiry to your interaction with the Borg, its only inactive remnants of a cybernetic interface. Since the circuitry is inoperable it shouldn't be causing you any problems." the doctor walked over to the bulkhead panel showing the readouts of the young man's artificial arm. "Er, how old did you say you were when the failed assimilation happened?" The young man looked puzzled. Surely the Doctor had read the inquiry's findings - that much was evident. Still, he responded, albeit hesitantly, "I was eight, sir." "Well then it's possible that you may have repressed some of your memories about the experience?" The Doctor's face became stoic. Of course not, Craven thought to himself, I was asked that a million times in the inquiry. "As I told Starfleet Intelligence Doctor, I remember it all." After Craven had admitted to Commander Nicholas Cromwell his experience as a child - during his Starfleet Academy Application Interview - there was a formal investigation with Starfleet Intelligence. The Federation couldn't - and wouldn't - allow for such a vital tool against an such a great adversary as the Borg, to go unnoticed. The inquiry, however, was unable to uncover any useful information, and thus Craven's acceptance to the Academy was approved. The Doctor's unchanging features made the young man uneasy. Several seconds passed, and still the doctor remained absolutely still. Then a voice which Jack Craven had not heard in nearly fifteen years filled his ears. "Smart man that Doctor, BA-SHIR." Craven spun around to find he was face to face with the man that had saved his life. The man that tortured his parents and countless Borg on the scout ship so long ago. A man Craven knew for a fact was disassembled and deep within Starfleet Headquarters' secured storage: Lore. "What the he..." Jack lept to his feet and stepped back from the soong android, who was wearing the same jet-black jumpsuit he had been wearing when Jack had last seen him. "Ah ah ah. Is that any way to welcome an old friend?" Lore said with a wry smile. "My my you have gotten big!" Jack looked over to Doctor Bashir, who was still motionless, as if he were frozen in time. In fact when he looked around, all the Infirmary nurses were frozen in a stoic position. "This, this isn't real. It's not happening!" He exclaimed. And suddenly he felt a noticable warmth in his right arm. "Of course its not. I mean you know for a fact that I am no longer a functioning part of society...I know that because you know that Jack." The android gave a gentle laugh. Jack's eyes widened. He looked down to his arm, and then back up to Lore. "Heh heh, see? You understand now," Lore coninued, "the good Doctor just activated that Borg circuitry, and whoala! Here I am." "What do you want from me you...you monster!?" Jack's face grew red as he backed up against the bulkhead. "Oh its not about what I want, Jack. It's about what you want...er, rather, wanted. You see your memory of the events that surrounded your parent's death, and my rise to greatness with the rogue collective is not....entirely accurate." Lore took the young man's silence as acceptance to continue, "You see, Jack, the Doc wasn't too far off when he said you may have repressed your memories....you did." Craven was now bunched up in a ball on the ground against the bulkhead, near tears. "You're lying!" "Am I? You think you were never given time to assimilate...but we both know thats not true, Jackie boy. It was more than a week before my experiments on you were successful in severing you from the collective." Lore saw the young man was now shaking, tears streaming down his face in fear. "But I see you're not going to take my word for it." As he spoke, Lore motioned his hand towards the young man's right arm, and it started to glow. Pain seared all through Craven's body, and suddenly he felt a rush of some sort of stimuli he couldn't explain flow through his synapses. He began to shake uncontrollably. He heard thousands...no millions of voices talking to him...all ...Borg. "You see Jack, you were Borg. You heard their thoughts. But you were too young to handle all the information that came with that priviledge. You suppressed it. This arm of yours was a way for me to send you into regression, so I could extract the information from you myself...unfortunately it seems I was, distracted, and couldn't send for you again. Count yourself lucky you've lasted this long without this happening. Too bad, if it had happened earlier you'd have retained all your knowledge from the collective. It seems you'll only get bits and pieces now. Pity." Craven suddenly became still, and the voices faded away, leaving only scattered bits...fragments, of memories long forgotten. "Jack! Jack can you hear me?" Doctor Bashir's voice came ringing through like the sun shining through a cloudy haze. "Stay still, you passed out. Can you tell me what happend? Your brainwave patterns were off the charts!" Craven was suddenly lying on the biobed, he opened his eyes slowly. He was gone. "Uhh..." the young man groaned. "Doctor Bashir, this is going to take some time to explain.."

<<Again, I've just moved this log here as now that I'm posted on excal this is a more appropriate locale>>> ==AA==AA==AA==AA==AA==AA "The time is 08:00 hours." The sound of the computer's wake up call irritated the young man in the bed. "Great, right in the middle of a good dream." he grumbled. Ensign Jack Craven rubbed his eyes for a moment and sat up. It took a few seconds for him to get his bearings and realize where he was. He had spent the past week on multiple transports, and never really had time to get used to changing beds. He rose and hopped into the sonic shower in the next room, and stood there motionless for a few minutes, still waking up. He started fumbling with the temperature controls, still trying to figure out which direction was "hot". "Damn Cardassian showers, you'd think even they would make bathing somewhat simpler." After a week's travel from the Academy on Earth, he had arrived at Deep Space Nine two days earlier. Starfleet had granted him leave while he waited for his first permanent assignment since graduation. He decided to use that time to see the one sight in the Alpha Quadrant that had eluded him for so many years: The Bajoran Wormhole. When he did in fact get the chance to see a few Federation transports enter it, a wave of curiosity swept through him. Much unlike the wave of sickness that came after his dinner in the Klingon restaurant the previous night. "Adventure" it would seem, would have to wait until his posting, or at least so said the nurse who helped him along in the infirmary. "No Klingon today," he said to himself, "today I think I'll try breakfast....at a bar." Craven walked along the promenade carrying a datapad, looking about at all the different shops, he thought about the thesis he carried in his hands. During his time at Starfleet Academy he had started his thesis on quantum and temporal mechanics, he figured if he received his requested postition as a science officer aboard a Federation Vessel, it would be nice to have some added credentials, even though he already possesed his basic degree in quantum and temporal mechanics as well as a degree in warp core technology....and then of course his PhD in Positronics. But he figured, a little more certainly wouldnt hurt. Before long he arrived at "Qark's Bar". He was surprised anyone at all would be in the bar at this hour, but alas a lone balding Lurian sat at the end stool. Jack took a seat next to him. "Good morning." the young ensign said with a smile. The Lurian turned and smiled and raised his glass. Just as the bulky alien was about to open his mouth a voice cut him off from behind the bar. "Ah ah ah Morn, what did I tell you? Not a word and not a move until you pay this month's bar tab, and I mean it!" An irritated Ferengi walked up from behind the bar to just in front of where the young man now sat. He turned to Jack and spoke, "Ah, he's been running off at the mouth since late last night. I just got him to shut up." The young man grinned, "You must be Quark." The Ferengi tilted his head and retorted with a thick layer of sarcasm "Very astute. Now what do you want? Its 09:30." The young man stared back blankly, so he added "In the morning!" Jack forced back a smile and stood from his seat, "Oh, I'm sorry," he turned to the entrance, "...I didn't realize you didn't serve breakfast." The Ferengi's expression changed in an instant from irritable to accommodating, and when he spoke, it was evident he had no intention of allowing the man to leave without selling him something, "Whatever gave you that idea? Come, come! Take a seat!" The young man returned to his stool, and set his datapad on the bar. "What'll it be? A Bolian omlette perhaps? Or eggs over easy?" "Ah, no eggs for me please. I'll just have a bowl of cinnamon oatmeal...Earth style, and two raktajinos, one hot, one room temperature." "Coming right up." the Ferengi turned and replicated the food. Jack looked over to his right at the Lurian, Morn, who was still nursing his drink. Morn gave him a smile and shrugged his shoulders before returning to his synthehol. "There you go, enjoy." Quark set the tray down in front of the young man and turned back to continue setting up his bar station. "Thank you." The young man said with a smile and took a sip of the room temperature raktajino, before downing the entire glass. Hearing the man gulp his drink down so fast, Quark turned back to face him. "You're either incredibly tired or incredibly thirsty. I hope you intend to pay for all that." "What makes you think I wouldn't?" The young man replied witha raised eyebrow. "Rule of acquisition number ninety-one, he who..." but before he could finish, the young man interrupted, "He who drinks fast, pays slow. Well you don't have to worry I'll pay it all." Quark gave a sly smile, "You're familiar with your rules I see? Spend much time near Ferenganar?" The young man returned the smirk, "Let's just say I've had my fair share of dealings with the Ferengi." "Well...I can see that. I'll leave you to your breakfast." And as he ate, young Jack Craven thought about how he would spend the rest of his time on Deep Space Nine. Maybe he would visit Bajor, but he wanted to be on the first ship off-station if the call came through about his posting. "I guess I'll just have to go where the wind takes me." he said to him self, and he returned to his thesis.

<<<<Ok most of you have seen this before, but now that I have been officially posted on Excal, I moved it here.>>>> NAME: Jackson Apollo Craven Species: Human Birthplace: Winfield, British Columbia, Canada DOB: January 9, 2359 Race: Caucasian CURRENT RANK: ENSIGN CURRENT POSTING: USS-EXCALIBUR NCC-2004-B; ASSISTANT SCIENCE OFFICER "Computer begin recording, Commander Nicholas Cromwell interview to applicant #20011-9539 Jack Craven, authorization Cromwell-Omega-Two-Four." The Commander walked over and took a seat at his desk. Across from him sat a young man of about 22. "Well Mr. Craven this is all really a formality, er, the final part of your application. Just tell me a little about yourself." The young man sat upright in his chair, which was a little uncomfortable, and ran a hand through his curled black hair before beginning to speak. "Ah, well Sir I was born here on Earth...Canada actually in 2359. My parents were both Starfleet officers who retired to go off and do their own research. My mother was an engineer and my father was a science officer aboard the Stargazer. When I was 8, on Stardate 45863, we were traveling through the Posylien system outside Federation space and our ship was attacked by a Borg Scout Ship." Commander Cromwell's face whitened a little. "There was no mention of this in your application.." "Thats because I didn't want to be overlooked on paper because of my interaction with an enemy of the Federation Sir." The Commander nodded, signalling the young man to continue. "Our ship had virtually no defences, and we were boarded quickly...." he paused momentarily. "We were...injected...with the borg nanites.." "Assimilated!!!???!!???" The Commander had a look on his face that showed he either didn't believe the young man or was utterly horrified. The boy surely could not have been, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting in front of him. Seeing the stoic look on the boy's face, he let it go momentarily. "Sorry I keep interrupting...continue." "My parents were assimilated yes, the probes were stuck in their neck, allowing the nanites to spread more quickly. I was struck in the leg, so it took about an hour for the effect to sink in fully. But something happened then. After 5 hours I was still conscious, still thinking individually. Do you know your Borg history Sir? Do you know what happened on stardate 45854 that would have caused me to not join the hive mind of the collective?" "No I'm afraid I don't" Cromwell's brow wrinkled a bit. Then, as if a lightbulb went off above him his eyes widened. "Hugh!?" The Commander had a wave of near excitement flow over him. "Thats when the Enterprise first encountered Hugh!" "Yes," the young man went on. "That was the ship that picked up Hugh from the ice moon, where the Enterprise-D left him. Apparently while the Borg had our ship in tow, Hugh's newfound sense of individuality was taking hold on the scout ship. We must have drifted for hours and hours before HE came and..." the young man was suddenly very very upset...choking back tears. "He? You mean Lore?" The Commander now leaned forward in his chair, "I read in the Enterprise reports that Lore was the one who took control of the rogue collective." "Yes..he began experimenting on us. I was the first. He purged the now inoperative borg nanites from my system - in a sense, I was really never assimilated at all. To this day I don't know why he did it. Maybe because I was only a child...all I know is that that murderer did not show the same mercy on my parents. He manipulated them....he tried putting positronic devices in there cerebral cortex....he....killed them both." The Commander sat back in his chair. Even if the boy was lying, he knew what he was talking about. Reports from the Enterprise's first encounter with the rouge collective at Ohniaka III were classified. It all seemed to fit too perfectly to be a fable. "After months of keeping me as somewhat of a prisoner, Lore let me go...he dropped me off on some god forsaken planet and flew off with the collective. I was picked up by a federation starship some days later, nearly starved to death. I still don't know why he purged me of the borg implants or why he didn't kill me." "What did you do after that?" "I went to school...I began my study in positronics, warp fields and advanced physics. I gained my degrees all three before applying here....but....that all must seem pretty boring to you after that story......Sir." "No no, your record is quite impressive Mr. Craven...but I must admit I find this all a little hard to believe....that you were part of a failed assimilation by the Borg...that you were "rescued" by a maniacal Soong-type android and then just "let go" without a scratch on you?" "Well not without a scratch Sir...I lost my right arm in the process. This baby's an artificial endoskeleton with my own flesh cloned over-top." "I see.." said the Commander, thoughtfully. There was a long pause before he began again, "Well Mr. Craven, I've been an Admissions Administrator here for a long long time. I can tell you I've met probably a thousand applicants from dozens of worlds...you may not be the BEST candidate I've ever seen but...you definitely have one of the best stories I've heard, be it true or be it false." "Er...thank you Sir". The young man fought to keep back a smile. "Well I suppose that experience might help you in your career, but don't think you'll be getting special treatment because of your dealings with our enigmatic enemy." "Of course not Sir, wouldn't dream of it." The young man sat upright in his chair once more. "Well then...Cadet." The young man's eyebrows raised at the sound of that title. "I would like to be the first to formally welcome you to Starfleet Academy. I hope you enjoy your stay here. "Thank you Sir, I will Sir." Cromwell looked over to the computer's visual recorder, "Computer, end recording."

<<These events take place prior to the Battle at Camelot Station with the Hundred Fleet, at least prior to the Excalibur's return to the Gamma Quadrant - During Ensign Jack Craven's time pre-assignment on Deep Space Nine>> "Medically I can't seem to find any problem's with you Ensign." Doctor Bashir said softly to the young man seated on the biobed. "You say you've been having headaches and an ache in your artificial arm?" "Yeah," the young man winced, "bloody Borg technology has never hurt like this before." "Borg technology? Your Starfleet Medical Record states that this arm was grafted by Lore, not the Borg." the Doctor looked somewhat puzzled. Jack Craven gave a sigh, "Eh, its a long story, my stay with the rogue collective. Yes it was Lore that grafted the arm but he used the Borg technology on the scout ship to do so. You've no doubt picked up the internal circuitry embedded in the endoskeletal structure of the arm?" Bashir looked down at his medical tricorder momentarily before replying, "Well yes but according to your record, and by your own formal account during Starfleet Intelligence's formal inquiry to your interaction with the Borg, its only inactive remnants of a cybernetic interface. Since the circuitry is inoperable it shouldn't be causing you any problems." the doctor walked over to the bulkhead panel showing the readouts of the young man's artificial arm. "Er, how old did you say you were when the failed assimilation happened?" The young man looked puzzled. Surely the Doctor had read the inquiry's findings - that much was evident. Still, he responded, albeit hesitantly, "I was eight, sir." "Well then it's possible that you may have repressed some of your memories about the experience?" The Doctor's face became stoic. Of course not, Craven thought to himself, I was asked that a million times in the inquiry. "As I told Starfleet Intelligence Doctor, I remember it all." After Craven had admitted to Commander Nicholas Cromwell his experience as a child - during his Starfleet Academy Application Interview - there was a formal investigation with Starfleet Intelligence. The Federation couldn't - and wouldn't - allow for such a vital tool against an such a great adversary as the Borg, to go unnoticed. The inquiry, however, was unable to uncover any useful information, and thus Craven's acceptance to the Academy was approved. The Doctor's unchanging features made the young man uneasy. Several seconds passed, and still the doctor remained absolutely still. Then a voice which Jack Craven had not heard in nearly fifteen years filled his ears. "Smart man that Doctor, BA-SHIR." Craven spun around to find he was face to face with the man that had saved his life. The man that tortured his parents and countless Borg on the scout ship so long ago. A man Craven knew for a fact was disassembled and deep within Starfleet Headquarters' secured storage: Lore. "What the he..." Jack lept to his feet and stepped back from the soong android, who was wearing the same jet-black jumpsuit he had been wearing when Jack had last seen him. "Ah ah ah. Is that any way to welcome an old friend?" Lore said with a wry smile. "My my you have gotten big!" Jack looked over to Doctor Bashir, who was still motionless, as if he were frozen in time. In fact when he looked around, all the Infirmary nurses were frozen in a stoic position. "This, this isn't real. It's not happening!" He exclaimed. And suddenly he felt a noticable warmth in his right arm. "Of course its not. I mean you know for a fact that I am no longer a functioning part of society...I know that because you know that Jack." The android gave a gentle laugh. Jack's eyes widened. He looked down to his arm, and then back up to Lore. "Heh heh, see? You understand now," Lore coninued, "the good Doctor just activated that Borg circuitry, and whoala! Here I am." "What do you want from me you...you monster!?" Jack's face grew red as he backed up against the bulkhead. "Oh its not about what I want, Jack. It's about what you want...er, rather, wanted. You see your memory of the events that surrounded your parent's death, and my rise to greatness with the rogue collective is not....entirely accurate." Lore took the young man's silence as acceptance to continue, "You see, Jack, the Doc wasn't too far off when he said you may have repressed your memories....you did." Craven was now bunched up in a ball on the ground against the bulkhead, near tears. "You're lying!" "Am I? You think you were never given time to assimilate...but we both know thats not true, Jackie boy. It was more than a week before my experiments on you were successful in severing you from the collective." Lore saw the young man was now shaking, tears streaming down his face in fear. "But I see you're not going to take my word for it." As he spoke, Lore motioned his hand towards the young man's right arm, and it started to glow. Pain seared all through Craven's body, and suddenly he felt a rush of some sort of stimuli he couldn't explain flow through his synapses. He began to shake uncontrollably. He heard thousands...no millions of voices talking to him...all ...Borg. "You see Jack, you were Borg. You heard their thoughts. But you were too young to handle all the information that came with that priviledge. You suppressed it. This arm of yours was a way for me to send you into regression, so I could extract the information from you myself...unfortunately it seems I was, distracted, and couldn't send for you again. Count yourself lucky you've lasted this long without this happening. Too bad, if it had happened earlier you'd have retained all your knowledge from the collective. It seems you'll only get bits and pieces now. Pity." Craven suddenly became still, and the voices faded away, leaving only scattered bits...fragments, of memories long forgotten. "Jack! Jack can you hear me?" Doctor Bashir's voice came ringing through like the sun shining through a cloudy haze. "Stay still, you passed out. Can you tell me what happend? Your brainwave patterns were off the charts!" Craven was suddenly lying on the biobed, he opened his eyes slowly. He was gone. "Uhh..." the young man groaned. "Doctor Bashir, this is going to take some time to explain.."

Dude, you think your school sucks?

Heh, likewise. I look forward to reading another of yours soon.

<test>

Yes Corizon, I DID just call you "Dog Boy"

HEY I LOVE JAG!

<<ok so I had another one of those itches to write a log and this is what I've come up with, enjoy! Took me ten minutes to find a proper spelling of raktajino...bloody klingons!>> ==AA==AA==AA==AA==AA==AA "The time is 08:00 hours." The sound of the computer's wake up call irritated the young man in the bed. "Great, right in the middle of a good dream." he grumbled. Ensign Jack Craven rubbed his eyes for a moment and sat up. It took a few seconds for him to get his bearings and realize where he was. He had spent the past week on multiple transports, and never really had time to get used to changing beds. He rose and hopped into the sonic shower in the next room, and stood there motionless for a few minutes, still waking up. He started fumbling with the temperature controls, still trying to figure out which direction was "hot". "Damn Cardassian showers, you'd think even they would make bathing somewhat simpler." After a week's travel from the Academy on Earth, he had arrived at Deep Space Nine two days earlier. Starfleet had granted him leave while he waited for his first permanent assignment since graduation. He decided to use that time to see the one sight in the Alpha Quadrant that had eluded him for so many years: The Bajoran Wormhole. When he did in fact get the chance to see a few Federation transports enter it, a wave of curiosity swept through him. Much unlike the wave of sickness that came after his dinner in the Klingon restaurant the previous night. "Adventure" it would seem, would have to wait until his posting, or at least so said the nurse who helped him along in the infirmary. "No Klingon today," he said to himself, "today I think I'll try breakfast....at a bar." Craven walked along the promenade carrying a datapad, looking about at all the different shops, he thought about the thesis he carried in his hands. During his time at Starfleet Academy he had started his thesis on quantum and temporal mechanics, he figured if he received his requested postition as a science officer aboard a Federation Vessel, it would be nice to have some added credentials, even though he already possesed his basic degree in quantum and temporal mechanics as well as a degree in warp core technology....and then of course his PhD in Positronics. But he figured, a little more certainly wouldnt hurt. Before long he arrived at "Qark's Bar". He was surprised anyone at all would be in the bar at this hour, but alas a lone balding Lurian sat at the end stool. Jack took a seat next to him. "Good morning." the young ensign said with a smile. The Lurian turned and smiled and raised his glass. Just as the bulky alien was about to open his mouth a voice cut him off from behind the bar. "Ah ah ah Morn, what did I tell you? Not a word and not a move until you pay this month's bar tab, and I mean it!" An irritated Ferengi walked up from behind the bar to just in front of where the young man now sat. He turned to Jack and spoke, "Ah, he's been running off at the mouth since late last night. I just got him to shut up." The young man grinned, "You must be Quark." The Ferengi tilted his head and retorted with a thick layer of sarcasm "Very astute. Now what do you want? Its 09:30." The young man stared back blankly, so he added "In the morning!" Jack forced back a smile and stood from his seat, "Oh, I'm sorry," he turned to the entrance, "...I didn't realize you didn't serve breakfast." The Ferengi's expression changed in an instant from irritable to accommodating, and when he spoke, it was evident he had no intention of allowing the man to leave without selling him something, "Whatever gave you that idea? Come, come! Take a seat!" The young man returned to his stool, and set his datapad on the bar. "What'll it be? A Bolian omlette perhaps? Or eggs over easy?" "Ah, no eggs for me please. I'll just have a bowl of cinnamon oatmeal...Earth style, and two raktajinos, one hot, one room temperature." "Coming right up." the Ferengi turned and replicated the food. Jack looked over to his right at the Lurian, Morn, who was still nursing his drink. Morn gave him a smile and shrugged his shoulders before returning to his synthehol. "There you go, enjoy." Quark set the tray down in front of the young man and turned back to continue setting up his bar station. "Thank you." The young man said with a smile and took a sip of the room temperature raktajino, before downing the entire glass. Hearing the man gulp his drink down so fast, Quark turned back to face him. "You're either incredibly tired or incredibly thirsty. I hope you intend to pay for all that." "What makes you think I wouldn't?" The young man replied witha raised eyebrow. "Rule of acquisition number ninety-one, he who..." but before he could finish, the young man interrupted, "He who drinks fast, pays slow. Well you don't have to worry I'll pay it all." Quark gave a sly smile, "You're familiar with your rules I see? Spend much time near Ferenganar?" The young man returned the smirk, "Let's just say I've had my fair share of dealings with the Ferengi." "Well...I can see that. I'll leave you to your breakfast." And as he ate, young Jack Craven thought about how he would spend the rest of his time on Deep Space Nine. Maybe he would visit Bajor, but he wanted to be on the first ship off-station if the call came through about his posting. "I guess I'll just have to go where the wind takes me." he said to him self, and he returned to his thesis.

Heh, well yeah that's the hidden reason for me being there but shh....Fred has yet to tell me where I'm headed.

Over the past few weeks I've been adding to my TNG and DS9 Season Libraries and have come across some episodes I had previously never seen. Both episodes focused on non-senior staff (a departure from the Trek norm) and thus I found particularly interesting since I had just become a member of STSF. First, "Valiant" (DS9 Season 6) Nog and Jake are rescued from a dominion attack on their shuttle by the Defiant Class USS Valiant, with a crew consisting ENTIRELY of Cadets from the Academy's Creme De La Creme division "Red Squadron". For those of you who havent seen the episode, Every position including Captain is held by a Cadet of the Squadron average age 18ish. The ship has essentially gone rogue due to a cowboy of a captain bent on making himself a martyr in the Dominion war. Nog gets promoted to Field Lieutenant Commander and Chief Engineer. Originally I thought this was totally sweet..but then I realized that Redsquadron was essentially comprised of a bunch of Total psycho's bent on going nuts and taking on the entire dominon (it was probably just the captain but still). I was left thinking that Nog should have just pistol whipped him. Overall episode rating - Blah. The Rogue Squadron should be ashamed. But they do mention the USS-Republic in it, and how its still an operable training ship that never leaves the Terran system anymore! The writer went on record that he intended it to be a reference to the same Republic that Kirk served on. (it was never cannonically stated that the original republic was constitution-class, and there is some speculation that it was in fact baton-rouge class) Ok now to the second one. "Lower Decks" (TNG Season 7) DANG SON, this is now one of my all time favorite episodes. The episode focuses on a group of ensigns assigned to the Enterprise-D (Including Nurse Ogawa) dealing with the stress of promotions, living up to their duties without question, and trying to impress the senior staff. This episode was directed beautifully showing the comparisons between the junior and senior staff. Overall I just had a big grin while watching this episode from start to finish. It reminded me of being in an Academy at STSF!!! If you've seen these episodes let me know what you think, if not, DEFINATELY See "lower decks". Let me know if you catch other cool junior officer related episodes of trek.

<<I've been itching to post this somewhere, and since I'm still a Cadet, I thought I might post it here. I'll see to it that when I'm posted in an advanced sim that it gets moved to the appropriate space. Til then, I guess this is the most appropriate spot! Sorry its a bit dry>> "Computer begin recording, Commander Nicholas Cromwell interview to applicant #20011-9539 Jack Craven, authorization Cromwell-Omega-Two-Four." The Commander walked over and took a seat at his desk. Across from him sat a young man of about 22. "Well Mr. Craven this is all really a formality, er, the final part of your application. Just tell me a little about yourself." The young man sat upright in his chair, which was a little uncomfortable, and ran a hand through his curled black hair before beginning to speak. "Ah, well Sir I was born here on Earth...Canada actually in 2359. My parents were both Starfleet officers who retired to go off and do their own research. My mother was an engineer and my father was a science officer aboard the Stargazer. When I was 8, on Stardate 45863, we were traveling through the Posylien system outside Federation space and our ship was attacked by a Borg Scout Ship." Commander Cromwell's face whitened a little. "There was no mention of this in your application.." "Thats because I didn't want to be overlooked on paper because of my interaction with an enemy of the Federation Sir." The Commander nodded, signalling the young man to continue. "Our ship had virtually no defences, and we were boarded quickly...." he paused momentarily. "We were...injected...with the borg nanites.." "Assimilated!!!???!!???" The Commander had a look on his face that showed he either didn't believe the young man or was utterly horrified. The boy surely could not have been, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting in front of him. Seeing the stoic look on the boy's face, he let it go momentarily. "Sorry I keep interrupting...continue." "My parents were assimilated yes, the probes were stuck in their neck, allowing the nanites to spread more quickly. I was struck in the leg, so it took about an hour for the effect to sink in fully. But something happened then. After 5 hours I was still conscious, still thinking individually. Do you know your Borg history Sir? Do you know what happened on stardate 45854 that would have caused me to not join the hive mind of the collective?" "No I'm afraid I don't" Cromwell's brow wrinkled a bit. Then, as if a lightbulb went off above him his eyes widened. "Hugh!?" The Commander had a wave of near excitement flow over him. "Thats when the Enterprise first encountered Hugh!" "Yes," the young man went on. "That was the ship that picked up Hugh from the ice moon, where the Enterprise-D left him. Apparently while the Borg had our ship in tow, Hugh's newfound sense of individuality was taking hold on the scout ship. We must have drifted for hours and hours before HE came and..." the young man was suddenly very very upset...choking back tears. "He? You mean Lore?" The Commander now leaned forward in his chair, "I read in the Enterprise reports that Lore was the one who took control of the rogue collective." "Yes..he began experimenting on us. I was the first. He purged the now inoperative borg nanites from my system - in a sense, I was really never assimilated at all. To this day I don't know why he did it. Maybe because I was only a child...all I know is that that murderer did not show the same mercy on my parents. He manipulated them....he tried putting positronic devices in there cerebral cortex....he....killed them both." The Commander sat back in his chair. Even if the boy was lying, he knew what he was talking about. Reports from the Enterprise's first encounter with the rouge collective at Ohniaka III were classified. It all seemed to fit too perfectly to be a fable. "After months of keeping me as somewhat of a prisoner, Lore let me go...he dropped me off on some god forsaken planet and flew off with the collective. I was picked up by a federation starship some days later, nearly starved to death. I still don't know why he purged me of the borg implants or why he didn't kill me." "What did you do after that?" "I went to school...I began my study in positronics, warp fields and advanced physics. I gained my degrees all three before applying here....but....that all must seem pretty boring to you after that story......Sir." "No no, your record is quite impressive Mr. Craven...but I must admit I find this all a little hard to believe....that you were part of a failed assimilation by the Borg...that you were "rescued" by a maniacal Soong-type android and then just "let go" without a scratch on you?" "Well not without a scratch Sir...I lost my right arm in the process. This baby's an artificial endoskeleton with my own flesh cloned over-top." "I see.." said the Commander, thoughtfully. There was a long pause before he began again, "Well Mr. Craven, I've been an Admissions Administrator here for a long long time. I can tell you I've met probably a thousand applicants from dozens of worlds...you may not be the BEST candidate I've ever seen but...you definitely have one of the best stories I've heard, be it true or be it false." "Er...thank you Sir". The young man fought to keep back a smile. "Well I suppose that experience might help you in your career, but don't think you'll be getting special treatment because of your dealings with our enigmatic enemy." "Of course not Sir, wouldn't dream of it." The young man sat upright in his chair once more. "Well then...Cadet." The young man's eyebrows raised at the sound of that title. "I would like to be the first to formally welcome you to Starfleet Academy. I hope you enjoy your stay here. "Thank you Sir, I will Sir." Cromwell looked over to the computer's visual recorder, "Computer, end recording."

Thanks Ember! That was a killer bio you wrote as well. I'll be sure to see ya around in the acad's!

Yeah I just watched "Learning Curve" tonight and have to agree with Kansas, its killer. My favorite part: When chakotay SOCKS Crewman Dalby in the chin "Wanna do things the Maquis way? *SLUG* Thats the Maquis way isn't it?"

Huff: Who the heck sent this? Canada? Is she hot?

...The same thing we do everynight Pinky, bite and kill Cadets for the GMs <Sorry I just had to>

Say, would you like a chocolate covered pretzel? <<please tell me someone knows the movie "Mallrats">>

Ahh thats an Auto-Win in my book

To hell with "Engage" When this guy's in the chair he says "Ensign, plot a course....Just GIVE'R!!!"

I'd Like "Federation Rockstar" please

Hey Nosfel, I too am rather new here, and I can relate totally to the "where have you been all my life" sentiment. Things here look promising. I'd say welcome, but I feel a little to new to say it myself, so I'll just say: glad to have you along for the ride! I wish I could participate in every sim, but unfortunately with a night job I'll have to limit it until I move to day-work in a few months. I too love everything about the Trek universe, primarily the physics and science aspects, and I look forward to simming with you in such context. And don't worry about the typing, it will come. I found that even in just my second sim it was drastically more simple to follow and keep up with than my first. "See you...out there"