Crash Calestorm

The Shuttle pilots would probably be under the Pilot and Electronic Countermeasures (Pilot/ECOM) Officer roster spots/department umbrella that was mentioned in the start post. However, the one Medical officer (blue tunic) piloted Winona Kirk out of harms way on the medical shuttle from the Kelvin (film beginning), so I assume most dept officers are cross trained to be able to pilot a Shuttle since they are a vital auxiliary craft to any ship.

::raises hand:: my name is Ashton, and I'm a Human. Post edited and such; yes, we have Humans.

Now this is a perfect lead in. Per our Primer, we plan on accepting the following race characters: Humans, Vulcans, Caitians, Kzinti, Edoans, Orions, Centaurans, Tellarites, Andorians, Denobulans. Not necessarily the final word in character creation, but a general guideline for the New TOS world, until we get more of an indication about what races are out and about within the new film era. I'd prefer not to have about forty Vulcans running about the ship, but the command staff wouldn't stop anyone from playing a Vulcan character and such.

As soon as we receive clearance from STSF Personnel, and the "Taking Applications" announcement is posted to the From the GMs boards section. Keep an eye out!

USS Comanche Creek NCC-214 Overview Introduction: - The timeline for the Comanche Creek sim is set during the New TOS (The Original Series) timeline introduced in the Star Trek 2009 film, and our in character (IC) sim year will be circa 2260. The planet of Vulcan no longer exists, the survivors of the species are relocating to a colony world, and some of the Federation Starfleet has been wiped out. - Due to the attacks and chaos visited upon the quadrants by the actions of the renegade future Romulan Nero, the Federation Starfleet has implemented the First Threat Response (FTR) Program, and the ships commissioned for quadrant protection will be responsible for outlining and maintaining a grid of defense for the various quadrants. - The USS Comanche Creek will be serving under the FTR program banner, and will be tapped to participate in and spearhead a variety of missions: mainly border patrol and protection, but also aid missions, covert operations, interplanetary and outer planetary escort missions, exploration, diplomacy/first contact, and colony establishment missions. The ship and crew will typically be out in deep space for long periods of months and perhaps anywhere from one to three years, depending on the missions. - To aid with a variety of protection, offensive and defensive missions, all FTR border patrol ships are outfitted with the latest technology for long range sensors and scanners that will enable them to be the eyes and ears along the Federation borders. In addition to carrying an air wing, ships such as the Kelvin-class Heavy Destroyer Comanche Creek are smaller and less expensive then the Constitution class starships due to the specialized nature of the Border Patrol missions. - The FTR program and the USS Comanche Creek are under the direct purview of Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote, Special Liaison to Starfleet Special Operations and Starfleet Border Patrol Divisions. The ships call sign designation will be the SBP-214 Black Sheep. Departments: Command (Gold Tunics) Command Officers: The ships Commanding Officer and Executive Officer are responsible for the day to day operations of both ship and crew. Helm (Bridge Staff): The Helm officer is responsible for controlling the flight operations of a ship, including warp, impulse and thruster control. Helm is also responsible for controlling the ship during a landing sequence or docking procedure, and coordinating phaser crews for real and simulated combat and for firing the weapons. The Helm officer also handles duties for coordinating with the bridge FOPS (Flight Ops console) during flight training and flight combat sequences. Navigation (Bridge Staff): the Navigator is responsible for projecting the course of a starship, and for determining a ship's position, velocity and direction in relationship to a course. The navigator can use the ship's navigational sensors to determine the positions, speeds and trajectories of other objects. Some navigation officers are also cross trained as transporter technicians. Operations (Red Tunics) Communications (Bridge Staff): The Comm officer is responsible for managing all incoming and outgoing transmissions. Most communications Officers have basic or advanced training in linguistics, and coordinate the scheduling of resources, hardware and system usage for an entire starship, outpost or space station. Comm officers must have an innate understanding of varying levels of communications technology and implementation when dealing with the various situations that will come about during tenure of service. Comm officers will also at times assist the ECOM officers depending on missions. Security (CSEC/ASECs): The Security officer is an officer who worked for Starfleet Security, and was, as such, part of a starship or starbase's security department, under the command of a security chief. A security officer's duties include the protection of Starfleet and Federation assets, the prevention and investigation of crimes, and personal protection of Starfleet officers and Federation or foreign dignitaries. Security officers are also responsible for rotational shifts at the Tactical (TAC) station on the bridge, which involves tactical targeting and firing of the ships weapons systems during combat sequences, and coordinating phaser crews for real and simulated combat and for firing the weapons. Engineering (CENG/AENGs): Engineering officers are generally assigned tasks that include maintaining and/or improving the performance of the warp drive, ship's database, computer processors and circuitry, holographic emitters, tractor beams, transporter components, observational equipment (such as sensors, probes, and satellites), weaponry systems, deflector array, hull plating, life support, shields and alternative defense systems, and many other crucial parts of a ship's anatomy. They are expected to tackle all the problems that drain ship's resources or lower its efficiency. Pilots/Electronic Countermeasures (CAG/Assistant Pilots-ECOs):Our Pilot officers are responsible for the operation of the starfighter class craft of the aerospace wing assigned to the ship. They are also cross trained to operate the electronic equipment that may be required for mission flight parameters: pilot assistance, jamming wireless transmissions, running scans, monitoring the tracking sensors, and other various operations as required. Pilot officers are responsible for rotational duty at the bridge FOPS (Flight Ops) station, but most often the station is handled by the CAG or senior pilots. Sciences (Blue Tunics) Medical (CMO/AMOs): Medical science, is the science and practice of treating damage and ailments that affect the mind or body of a being. It also deals in the prevention and diagnosis of said damage and ailments. Medical officers typically have both primary training and secondary training in any one of a number of fields, or a combination of the following: anatomy, biology, chemistry, genetics, obstetrics, pediatrics, psychiatry, psychology. Sciences (CSCI/ASCIs): Science officers are responsible for observing and theorizing explanations for strange or seemingly unexplainable circumstances. A general planetary survey party requires the direction of the science officer. In a medical emergency, the findings of the science officer are heavily relied upon. The science officer is required to keep sufficient data. They are also required to supply the commanding officer with all reports, observations, and speculations that might affect the safety of their vessel. Awards (in order of precedence): Steel Quill Award: Awarded to one individual or individuals for an exceptional solo or joint written log. Not a common award, the Steel Quill will be given once per yearly cycle. Captain Pike Ribbon for Service to Starfleet: This award is given yearly to an individual of the Sim who has shown marked progress with regard to IC (In Character) interactions, character development, plot participation, writing, and overall Simming. Simming Merit Award: Awarded to individuals who have shown consistent Simming efforts. Writing Merit Award: Awarded to the individuals who show consistent writing efforts. Vulcan Campaign Ribbon: Presented to the individuals who participated in recovering kidnapped Vulcan colonists, the first official mission of the USS Comanche Creek. Battle of Vulcan Campaign Ribbon: Presented to those whose approved biography marks the PCs (Player Character) presence at the Battle of Vulcan against the Romulan Nero and the Narada (Star Trek 11). Dedicated Service Ribbon: Awarded to the Players/Crew who have shown dedicated long term service to the Sim. Sim Launch Ribbon: Presented to the individuals who were officially assigned for the October 2, 2009 launch of the USS Comanche Creek Sim. Starfleet Academy Honor Graduate Ribbon: For Players who request an assignment on the USS Comanche Creek and have graduated from the academy system in less then 6 Sims. Starfleet Academy Graduate Ribbon: For Players who have graduated the academy system and request an assignment on the USS Comanche Creek. Bronze & Silver Oak Leaves: (Consecutive Attendance Awards) The Oak Leaves are awarded for consistent attendance every 20 Sims. The Silver Oak Leaf is awarded after 5 Bronze Leaves have been given. Character Biography: All character Biographies are to be sent to the Commanding Officer and Executive Officer for approval. After the content is approved, post your Bio on the Comanche Creek message boards and to the crew mail string. Since we currently have very little to go on regarding what canon (or new) species will be used in the new movie timeline, the following species are generally acceptable as player characters, and represent the most common species that we have seen in the TOS time period (Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Animated Series, and Star Trek: Enterprise): Humans, Vulcans, Caitians, Kzinti, Edoans, Orions, Centaurans, Tellarites, Andorians, Denobulans. Please note however, this is just a guideline for species/character creation within the Trek 2009 film timeline (2258). Written Logs and Live Chat: Our Live Chat meetings will carry the PG-13 rating at all times, with no exceptions. Written/Posted Logs will carry a PG-13 rating as well, with no exceptions. The command staff reserves the right to pull without warning any logs or retract any emails that have been posted that may be considered overly violent or graphic. Attendance: Real life happens and no one is expected to attend all the sims all the time; things will pop up that prevents you from attending. All the command team asks is that you send out a heads up e-mail out if you know you aren't going to be able to attend that week's upcoming sim. This way, any plot plans that involve you and your character can be postponed or changed. If you have to take some time away from the sim, you can request a Leave of Absence. Generally, a LOA should not last longer than three months. If you suddenly drop off the face of the Earth and just stop coming to the game with no word about what is going on to the hosts, the command team will usually employ a LOA period of three to six months. After this time frame has expired, the CO and the XO reserve the right to relinquish your position to another player, reduce your rank, or remove you from the roster. Vacations and emergency leaves are always available. Please notify the Commanding and the Executive Officer as soon as possible if you need to take some time off for a vacation or an emergency. Etiquette: Don't take your rank too seriously. A Lieutenant does not have a right to cop an attitude with an Ensign, unless both Players have agreed by PM (Private Message) that it's appropriate, and junior officers are just as important to a sim as senior officers. Our characters may out rank one another, but as fellow gamers and players we can all at least role-play seniority in a respectful and mature manner. Rank and Promotions: Midshipman (Mid): The rank you start with. Ensign (Ens): Ensigns have few responsibilities and are allowed a lot of creativity. You got here simply by graduating the Academy... or maybe you found that you didn't like the responsibility of the senior officer ranks. Lieutenant, Junior Grade (LtJg): To reach this rank, you've demonstrated that you attended a few sims, showed a solid understanding of role playing, and have written a few logs. Lieutenant (Lt) and Lieutenant Senior Grade (LtSG): You've demonstrated a full understanding of simming and in character development as well as interaction with the other players and their characters. You've also probably mastered the methods of throwing out ideas that allows for other players to contribute or pick up the ball and run with it so to speak. Lieutenant Commander (LtCdr): These senior players function as the "go betweens" for the senior command staff and the junior departmental officers, and they frequently carry out any in character orders or ideas and distribute them among the junior players Lieutenant Commanders are senior leaders both IC (in character) and OOC (out of character). Commander (Cdr): This rank is usually reserved for the Executive Officer of the sim, but the Command Staff may choose at some point to bestow this rank on non-Host senior players who have contributed to the game for a long period of time. Command Staff: Commanding Officer and Executive Officer: are the GM's assigned to host the sim. A player cannot be promoted to the command staff without becoming a GM and applying for an open command staff slot. The command staff ranks are usually Commander, Captain, Commodore, or Admiral. Second Officer: A Second Officer will be officially appointed by the command team, assists the command host team both in character and out of character, and may be given limited ACTION authority based on the need of a particular plotline. Typically, the second officer also holds a chief position for one of the departments. **Exceptions: Depending on the circumstances of a transfer, and with the command staffs consent, a new member may be allowed to retain his/her former rank from a previous sim or game. The same may be accorded to any veteran STSF officer depending on the circumstances. **All STSF Academy graduates who wish to join the Comanche Creek simulation shall begin role playing at the rank of Midshipman. Promotions to the next available rank will be assigned and distributed according to the purview of the Commanding and Executive Officer Hosts. The rank structure allows us to maintain a clear chain of command for a smooth flow of the game. Players who demonstrate a solid command of the rank guidelines below make more effective senior officers who are able to support the host staff, while junior officers are expected to input more of the ideas that the senior officers work with. In addition, consistent log writing, and good sim etiquette are all options to be considered before a player is promoted. **Historical Note: Colonel Gregory "Pappy" Boyington led the VMF-214 (Black Sheep) Marine flight squad in the Pacific theater during World War 2. While the USS Comanche Creeks "Starfleet Border Patrol-214 Black Sheep" designation is entirely fictional, it should be noted out of respect that there was an actual 214 Black Sheep Squad and Squad CO who served during WW2. Sincerely, Command Staff USS Comanche Creek NCC-214 Star Trek Simulation Forum ==== USS Comanche Creek l Version 1.1 l Primer Copyrighted 08.10.09 Update April 2010 (Position updates) Update June 2010 (Helm, Pilot (FOPS), Security (TAC) duties Update Sept 2010 (Player Awards) Update Dec 2010 (Battle of Vulcan Campaign Ribbon added, Academy Grad Ribbons update) Update Jan 2012 (Introduction changes - implementation of timeline/year tracking, ship class to Heavy Destroyer*) *Please note that the 'Creek was formerly classified as a frigate, with the USS Kelvin from Star Trek 2009 as the ship template. It has come to the attention of the command staff that the Kelvin design is very similar to the USS Saladin/Saladin class, classified in both Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) and Jackill's Starfleet Reference Manual Ships of the Fleet Vol. 1 as a Destroyer class starship. Kelvins, with their secondary hull, are to be considered as a Heavy Destroyer.

===== Starfleet Biographical Profile ===== ===== Command Profile/Access Granted ===== ===== Calestorm, Ashton Marie ===== Service Information: Name: Ashton Marie Calestorm Affiliation: Starfleet Border Patrol, First Threat Response Program Division Service Number: SF-148905 Primary MOS: Pilot //Current Primary: Hornet 20// Secondary MOS: Helm Officer Minor MOS: Small Arms Call Sign: Crash General Information: Birthplace: USS Knights Shield NCC-120 (Dreadnought Class) (Starfleet Colonial Operations) Birthdate: June 29, 2204 Standard Age: 56* (see Medical Notation) Current Age: 49* (see Medical Notation) Height: 5 Foot 9 Inches Weight: 137 lbs Hair: Silver White/Graying Eyes: Hazel-Green Species: Human/Terran (Female) Markings: USS Warlock 24th Archmages Flight Squad tattoo (right calf), Starfleet Starfighter Corps Division tattoo (upper left arm), Starfighter Corps 'Death From Above' tattoo (upper right arm) Educational Background: Pre-School: Private Class Setting, USS Knights Shield (Dreadnought Class) Elementary School: Jonathan Archer Elementary School (Georgia, Old Americas Southeast Territory, Earth) High School: Ghost Falls High School (Georgia, Old Americas Southeast Territory, Earth) Cadet Training: Four Year Program, Starfleet Naval Academy (San Francisco, Earth) Officer Training: One Year Program, Starfleet OCS (San Francisco, Earth) Advanced Flight Training: One Year Program, Starfleet Mars Colony (Sector 01) Family Background: Father: Charles Henry Calestorm, CDR retired (former Pilot) (Age: 90) Mother: Mary Katherine Calestorm, CAPT retired (former Pilot) (Age: 89) Brother: Jonathan Calestorm, former SCPO (Security), Starfleet Command (San Francisco, Earth) (Age: 60) Sister: Katherine Calestorm, CPO (MedTech), USS Niagara Falls NCC-608 (Age: 59) Maternal Aunt: Ashton Marie Killian, COL retired (former 56th Battalion, USS Gettysburg NCC-7419) (Age: 62) Maternal Uncle: Forrest Killian, WO5 retired (former Battlefield Medic/Aero Ambulance Transport) (Age: 73) Niece: Shannon Marie Calestorm (Student) (Age: 18) Nephew: Bodie Jonathan Calestorm (Student, Starfleet Pre-Enlistment Program) (Age: 19) General Appearance and Information: Ashton Marie Calestorm is Human, coming from an Earth Irish/Celtic bloodline. She spent her childhood, teen years, and early twenties exposed to the Southern culture of the North American continent. Her complexion is light and she is prone to sunburn. She possesses average facial features. She does not use makeup, only on the rare occasion or for a special event. Her body shape is lean and athletic, not muscular. Her silvering blond hair is cut short, regulation length. Her general strength level has been calculated as a bit below the average female human. Ashton’s tolerance and endurance level against pain and discomfort has been charted to average. Personal Background: Calestorm is the youngest of three children, and led the Starfleet Brat lifestyle of going from assignment to assignment with her parents and then in the care of various Earth bound relatives for vacations or schooling purposes in her child and teenaged years. Coming from a military family with several generations serving, the mindset and practice of military duty, honor and camaraderie was a powerful and long lasting message to grow up with. Initially applying to the Starfleet Marine Corps Infantry program as an enlisted officer and completing a two month stint at Parris Island, it was suggested by Senior Drill Instructor Zimm that she seek her career elsewhere as her skills and mindset were more suited towards piloting and officer training; Calestorm transferred to the Starfleet Naval Academy and followed in her parents' chosen career as a starfighter pilot. She also participated on the academy demonstration boxing team as a junior lightweight, splitting her skills between boxing and kickboxing. Ashton’s call sign of 'Crash' originates from her training assignment to the USS Warlock. She was assigned a courier shuttle run from the ship to a planetary colony base, and several passengers sarcastically commented on contracting whiplash or how close they had come to crashing. The Weapons Systems Officer posted for the assignment promptly spread the word among the flight squads and her permanent call sign was born. Calestorm completed her training and transferred over to the regular duty roster, attaining the full rank of Ensign and cutting her teeth as a professional pilot participating in the Orion Cartel-Federation Border Patrol skirmishes. During her early career service as a pilot, she piloted for a variety of missions and assignments: supply convoy escort, troop transport, reconnaissance, and interceptor. In 2233 she was assigned to the USS Kelvin with a dual concentration as a Helm officer and Shuttle pilot. That same year, the ship was destroyed in battle with the Narada, a converted mining ship commanded by Nero, a Romulan claiming to be from the future. Ashton was one of a few hundred crew members who escaped the brutal attack. There are rumors that she had been involved in a romantic relationship with another officer, Christopher Pike, during her service tenure on the Kelvin, but this relationship has never been confirmed or denied. From 2236 to 2238, Lieutenant Commander Calestorm was assigned to the Officer Recovery Program (ORP) division of Starfleet Intelligence, under the command of then-Commander Shauna Coyote. The division is and was responsible for extracting Starfleet operatives from deep cover assignments who had become compromised in some way, were in danger of doing so, or the assignment was no longer viable. As a Specialist Extraction Officer (SEO), Ashton was most often deployed on assignments that made use of her piloting skills and familiarity with frontier and colony planets. During her service as Executive Officer on the USS Reflection in 2250, the ship engaged a Klingon battle cruiser in a border dispute. Injured during the skirmish, Calestorm took shrapnel to her left knee and though the injury can be aggravated at times, it does not impair her ability to serve. On July 8, 2260, due to Prime Directive-related actions taken during a mission to the previously un-contacted planet of Grayson (Gygax Sector) and a separate incident involving an unsanctioned meeting with an Intelligence contact for use of information on Operation: Lost Souls, Captain Ashton Calestorm was demoted to the rank of commander and posted to Executive Officer duties on board the Comanche Creek for the duration of one solar year per the orders of Admiral Shauna Walking-Coyote. Former Executive Officer Commander Audraya ‘Scooter’ Wesley was subsequently promoted to captain and placed as the acting Commanding Officer of the USS Comanche Creek. In February 2261, following eight months at the reduced pay grade, she was re-promoted to the rank of Captain and position of Commanding Officer following investigative inquiries and action taken against smuggler activity within the Aquarius Major system. Personality Profile: As a child, Ashton possessed an agreeable and gentle way about her. She is curious, competent, a very driven individual if she gets an idea in her head. On the negative side of her personality, if she feels strongly enough about something or has a strong opinion, it can be very difficult to dissuade her from a certain course of action. She can have a temper if angered sufficiently, and can be impulsive. She is of the get the job done mindset and while not by nature a ruthless individual, she can have a single minded and stubborn quality that is difficult to penetrate. A tell tale sign of her level of annoyance is the tone and timber of her usually dormant Earth Southern accent. At her core personality, she is adventurous but not one for bravado and is true to her word. She is not anti-social, but will never be the life of the party. Her loyalty runs deep, and can be fierce once unleashed. She expects the best from the people under her command and can have a hard edge regarding crew discipline if involved. Calestorm is not a good swimmer. She has an intense dislike of wasps and bees and this has been problematic considering she spends a good amount of time serving on detached border patrol duty to any number of Federation colony worlds which may have an abundance of these creatures. Combat Profile: Ashton Marie Calestorm is a quarterdeck breed of military officer, content on the field of service. She adheres to the protocols and behavior expected from any officer, but is not inflexible to the point where she paralyzes herself with rules and regulations. Growing up in a military family, Calestorm maintains a healthy outlook regarding her life as a Starfleet officer. Her piloting records show a high level of skill as well as a retaining the maverick streak prominent in her younger days; she can be loose on the joy stick and creative when it comes to executing mission objectives. A favorite activity still remains buzzing the control tower or operations control center. She comes particularly recommended for troop transport, reconnaissance and escort missions and is more comfortable in hard contact situations providing long range support rather than hand to hand combat support , yet maintains an understanding of battlefield tactics for ground team operations and away missions. Her overall combat skills have been honed into a command presence of maturity, while her psychological work ups have never shown any self destructiveness that a commanding or subordinate officer would need to be concerned with. Medical Notation: Per events of late 2259, the crew of the USS Comanche Creek encountered a time rift in space; the ship and crew were transported to the year 2387. Upon their return to the correct time and era, it was discovered that there were new medical considerations and reactions among the crew to consider. In the case of Ashton Calestorm, she benefits from a gain of seven years of age. Her standard chronological age remains at 56 years old; her actual physical age shows on medical scans and data recordings as 49 years of age. Certified Weapons Clearance: Starfleet EM 33 Phase Pistol Starfleet 2258 Silver Type 1 Phaser Colonial 686 (semi-auto) Pistol (w/ under-mount explosive launcher) Starfleet MC-16 Pulse Rifle (ORP/SEO variant) Nortex 12 Praxis Tactical Shotgun Certified Flight Clearance: F/A-18 Hornet (Multi-role Fighter/Bomber) //Current Primary// F-14 Tomcat (Fleet Defense Fast Attack Interceptor Fighter/Bomber) F-4U Corsair (Space/Atmo Multi-Role Interceptor) V-22 Osprey (Cargo & Troop Transport/Drop Ship) Type 1 Shuttle (General Purpose & Courier class) H2-1 Shuttle (Hydro class) Service Decorations: Legion of Merit, Purple Heart, Starfleet Meritorious Unit Commendation, Orion Cartel Campaign 2228, Jericho Colony Evacuation 2241, Vulcan Colony Campaign 2258, Operation: Whiteout Campaign 2259, Operation: Lost Souls Campaign 2260, Starfleet Border Patrol Service, Colonial Long Tour Service, Comanche Creek Launch 2258, Comanche Creek Dedicated Service, Expert Phaser, Pistol Marksmanship General Skills: Horseback riding, Class-C hover flitter license, Class-C automobile driver license, Class-C motorcycle/hover-cycle license Service Record: ==Note: Classified Service: Officer Recovery Program (ORP) of the Starfleet Intelligence Division, Security Clearance O-6 pay grade equivalency and above to access== - 2227 to 2229: USS Warlock NCC- 509, 24th Archmages Starfighter Pilot (Transort/Tug Ptolemy Class) - 2229: Draconis Delta Colony, 10th Raptors Patrol & Recon Pilot - 2230 to 2233: USS Regulator NCC-0629, 58th Wildcards Squad Lead (Constitution Class Heavy Cruiser) - 2233 to 2234: USS Kelvin NCC-0514, Helm/Shuttle Pilot (Kelvin Class) (Destroyed in Action, 2233) - 2234 to 2235: Starfleet Academy, Piloting Instructor, 2nd Bug Stompers Troop Transport - 2235 to 2236: Starfleet Academy, Piloting Instructor, 367th Star Furies All Female Flight Expedition Team - 2236 to 2238: = = CLASSIFIED Assignments, Starfleet Intelligence, Officer Recovery Program = = - 2239 to 2244: USS Maxwell Forrest NCC-1074, 3rd Vigilantes CAG (Miranda Class Cruiser) - 2244 to 2248: USS San Pablo NCC-1093, Second Officer (Constitution Class Heavy Cruiser) - 2249: San Pablo Detachment Assignment: New Dubai Colony, Second Officer/Administrative - 2249 to 2256: USS Reflection NCC-141, Executive Officer (Rogue Class Destroyer) - 2256 to 2258: USS Vespine NCC-2020, Commanding Officer (Hornet Class Scout) - 2258: USS Comanche Creek, SBP-214 Black Sheep Commanding Officer (Kelvin Class Destroyer) - 2258: Receives USS Comanche Creek Launch Ribbon - 2258: Receives Vulcan Colony Campaign Ribbon - 2259: Receives Operation: Whiteout Campaign Ribbon - Stardate 2260.190 (July 8, 2260): USS Comanche Creek, demoted to Commander, Executive Officer - Stardate 2260.09 (January 9, 2260): Receives Operation: Lost Souls Campaign Ribbon - February 2261: USS Comanche Creek, re-promoted to rank of Captain, Commanding Officer ===== End Command Profile Transmission ===== ===== Connection Access Terminated ===== = = = Author Notations: *The USS Kelvin starship and Christopher Pike character copyright Star Trek XI and CBS Pictures (2009) *The Heavy Cruiser, Ptolemy, Dreadnought classes copyright the Franz Joseph Technical Manual (1980’s) *Profile image copyright Star Wars Legacy comics (2006-2010); thanks to Solaera Web Design for alterations *All original Crash Calestorm information is copyrighted by the author (2009-2013)

USS Jackrabbit NCC-2421 Corianis Colony Mission Log 3 Main City/Outlying Mining Camps Lower Atmosphere Hopper Shuttle Patrol Run It was a bright and clear sunny day on the surface of the world known as the Corianis Colony, currently in Federation possession and a prime producer of the precious dilithium fuel that the Federation Starfleet employed for use on their starships and space stations. It was unfortunate that the overall cheerful weather patterns did not seem to coincide with the mood and outlook of the colony residents and the current situation. Captain Ashton Marie Calestorm flew one of the Jackrabbit’s work shuttles in a patrol course over the main city, keeping both her eyes as well as her tracking programs alert for any problems that she spotted on the ground below. The blond haired middle aged human mentally frowned at the condition of the forward windshield view port; the protective transparent aluminum covering was covered in, well, bird droppings, so she assumed the last patrol group on the roster rotation had had a close encounter with the local avian population. The main city of the colony wasn’t overly large, only containing about fifty or so administrative buildings, stores, businesses, or homes, none of which went over four or five stories. Most of the structures were the typical one storied domed or rectangular shaped pre-fabricated Fleet issue building materials. As you got farther away and out from the main colony city, the mining camps would begin to pop up. These camps were typically located on one project site for a few years as the area was mined for dilithium, and the one story dome homes, structures or tents within the camps matched the same building materials as the main metropolis center. The planetary surface itself was a standard Class M configuration: some bodies of waters, forests, flat lands, mountains. It was a pretty planet, provided that the dilithium salvage and production companies didn’t strip mine the resource planet to the point where it became a floating ball of rock, which was always a risk. Corianis also boasted a small ground based hanger facility, as well as a small orbital docking platform that only had the capacity to cater to small civilian transport or cargo vessels, and any overflow transport of dilithium could also be stored within the cargo holds of the platform as well. An administrative office was located within the orbital facility, and the managers that worked there were on detached duty from the main city administration center on the surface of the planet. Calestorm did one final flyby at the optimum planetary atmosphere distance, and then began her arc run out of the main city airways proper. Her intended shuttle patrol course now was to check out some of the outlying mining camps set along the northwestern coast to see how these groups and sites were faring during the general upheaval of these last couple of weeks. As she passed over some of the outlying city buildings, she caught smoke plumes traveling upwards on the wind from burned out fires that had been contained by the damage control and fire brigades the night before; several roving mine worker factions had been marching in protest, and things had gotten a bit out of hand. She knew that her crew had started to get rough with any rioters, and while her conscious would creep up on her at intervals over giving the order in the first place, but her orders from Fleet Command were clear and the situation was to be immediately contained with no exceptions. There had been no deaths during the management clashes as of yet, but the mine workers kept getting more and more frustrated with the working conditions and the local administration. The local civilian militia was completely overwhelmed with trying to keep order, and in certain cases let a lot of things slip past them because some of the militia volunteers agreed with the mine workers and their angry protests over the colony situation. The local colony administrators were also getting hyper, and were effectively caught in between their own workers, the local police keeping forces, and Starfleet as the Federation central command on Earth dictated that Cale and her crew regain control of the planet at all cost. And, the USS Agincourt was currently on route to Corianis as well to provide further assistance to contain the situation, which probably meant that the individuals at Starfleet Command who had been assigned to the colony problem were determined that the colony world be made an example of. Calestorm was guessing at that reasoning however; she was a quarterdeck breed, not a desk bound jockey, and didn’t much care for administrative types. She just went were her border patrol orders took her, and did her dang job. She passed three of her pilots traveling in the opposite direction across the city proper on a planetary wide patrol, and received a quick acknowledging flash as the junior pilots activated their vehicle running lights as her Atmo Hopper shuttle and their Valkyrie starfighters winged past one another. For now, the Jackrabbit fighter patrols were set on a standard grid web pattern, and whether or not the Valkyrie pilots would be cleared to strategically strafe an area of trouble would fall squarely on Cale’s shoulders when she gave that order. Her crew was small enough, topping out at exactly one hundred, that everyone on board the USS Jackrabbit pulled their weight for a variety of duties -- even the ship’s captain. Which translated to the fact that she had taken on one of the planetary sector patrol runs for this afternoon. She had passed over the outer perimeter of the main city, and was now flying a low patrol pattern across her final section of the planetary grid. While the shuttles would never be as diverting as piloting a starfighter, she enjoyed the smaller-sized Atmo Hopper shuttles that were currently the exclusive property of the border patrol fleets. The transport craft were indispensable when it came to colony world missions such as this one, and this particular Hopper had been retrofitted back to its full shuttle form by one of her engineering crews. The retro fit bulkhead and deck plating offered extra protection and the like, and the cargo area had been scaled back and the passenger seats re-installed along with an aft control console that could be booted up in an emergency to control some of the ship board engineering and environmental systems. Cale’s main pilot console blipped, indicating that the Jackrabbit was comming her via the ship to ship internal wireless. Easily multitasking, the Captain flicked a series of switches to enable her own assigned comm signal to tap into the required communications line. “Calestorm here Jackrabbit, what’s the word.” “McCall here Cale. Just wanted an update on your patrol course.” “On the final vector grid now and I’ll be returning to the ship in about thirty.” “Good to know. Are you going to grace movie night with your presence and take a few hours off? So far, we have no alerts from the colony, so I think we’re pretty clear to let the second and third shifts oversee the watch tonight with standard protocols.” Once a year her XO, Lucas McCall, would host a movie night that had become known as ‘Hare Raising’. The featured movie in question was a god awful ancient one dee film by the name of Night of the Lepus. The so called plot line dealt with genetically mutated rabbits that ran rampant across the countryside. Her first officer, being the sick and demented individual that he was, had immediately seen the potential and connection between the USS Jackrabbit and Lepus – which was the genetic designation for the Earth based rabbit species that her ship shared a name with … Lord help her. How this film had ever survived -- and been remastered into both a one dee regular disc offering to be played on a data PADD as well as a four dee interactive holodeck offering -- to the 24th century, Calestorm didn’t know. Granted, it fell into the category of campy horror, and that might have been the main reason as there was large market of horror fans across the universe that would be interested in all things horror film from the late 20th century of Earth … no matter how atrocious the entertainment content was. McCall was also a horror fan, so this was all par for the course she supposed. Would she be gracing the movie night with her presence? That would be a negatory. “Lucas, I am not coming to sit through that god awful movie again. I’ve seen it a few times already, thank you, and I still can’t find my brain cells that got evaporated from the pure stupidness. It’s bad enough the crew wears those simple ass rabbit ear costumes that you bring; do you realize how disconcerting it is to see your officers and crew wearing rabbit ear bands on their heads? It’s bad enough when us Humans do it, but the last time tr’Astorix, Thraxen and Koral did it,” she said, referring to the resident pointed eared Romulan, blue skinned and antennae’d Andorian, and forehead ridged Klingon crewmates on board the ship, “ …. a Romulan, Andorian and Klingon with the fake rabbit ears? That is just … very wrong, on so many levels. It’s like I’m surrounded by, well, giant jackrabbits. You know, I had plenty of dealing with those little varmints growing up in the rural South without encountering them in the depths of space, thanks.” Commander McCall’s infectious laughter exploded across the ship to ship wireless, and she couldn’t help but smile, even though he couldn’t see her over the audio only wireless. His personality hadn’t changed much over the years, and he still retained some of that boisterous stick jock persona from when the two of them ran the Valkyrie fighters together. In some ways, she missed those days. Life had been simpler before she took on the ship command track … yet she’d never give it up. “Crash, that’s the whole point of movie night: to have some down time. And both Nisho and Thrax enjoy messing with the Human contingent of our crew when they sport the ears, and Koral just wants the crew get some downtown. You come, we eat popcorn, you watch a so bad it’s good Earth horror movie about hares, and we all wear giant rabbit ears and look like complete idiots.” “Not tonight. I got some duty rosters and update reports to read over.” “Those can keep until tomorrow morning. Knowing you, you’re probably not behind in your Corianis paperwork anyway.” “Lucas, yer startin’ to push it.” “Actually, I’m trying to save you like the gallant second in command officer that I am.” A derisive snort. “You’re degrading into Cale grunt speak. I can tell that you know I’m right.” The captain now grumbled a few choice complaints over the wireless communication line. “Hey, you’re the one that actively recruited her, you know her better then I do, but we both know what she’s capable of. She’ll stab you with a sedative hypo, and drag you to the movie screening bodily … and that’d be a pretty entertaining sight now that I think about it.” Insert captaincy level patented Calestorm complaints here. “Look, Cale, word of advice here from your long time friend and Exec: our ships doctor is six foot two -- I believe that’s about two or three inches give or take on you -- outweighs you by about twenty pounds, is entirely too protective like all doctors of her profession, swears better then any marine or sailor I’ve ever met, and if she thinks you need a break, not much you can do about it unless you enjoy being figuratively hip checked into the deck plating every time you buck her.” Another verbal spew of choice complaints could be heard over the private wireless conversation. It was true though that Koral didn’t quail whenever Ash went on one of her “clear the decks folks, the CO’s on a rampage” mood. “You get no sympathy. Next time? Recruit a doctor who’s much shorter then you and doesn’t weigh as much and isn’t inclined to do her job well. I’m just saying, off the record, that our ships doctor knows you’ve been pulling triple shifts with this Corianis mission, and she’s prowling for you my dear Captain.” “Aw dang.” “Trust me: movie night equals a couple hours of downtime with a really bad Earth vintage horror flick, versus a cranky Klingon doctor on your tail.” Time to exercise the better part of valor, thought the Captain to herself. “…. Fine. I’ll be there. I need to think about wearing those crazy ears though.” A faint chuckle could be heard, and then Lucas spoke again over the wireless from his end of the conversation. His tone was smug, but good natured. “Good, I’ll let Doctor Koral know you’ll be taking the evening off. Steady home Captain and see you in a little bit, Commander McCall out.” She did a low fly by on the final mining camp she had come across during her coastal patrol course, close enough to make out the clothing that the miners and workers were wearing and a couple species here and there. The Hopper’s proximity sensors started to bling a warning, but she ignored the alarms sounding from her control console and continued to steadily pilot the Hopper shuttle. A few of the ground based planetary residents, recognizing her shuttle as Starfleet, waved. She dipped her Hopper in greeting to return the waves, but even as she completed the friendly gesture, she felt the muscle in her chest and neck constrict with tension and a bit of sadness. That was the kicker: not everyone on Corianis was taking part in the riots. Sure, the problem was widespread, but it hadn’t consumed the whole colony planet, and not every colonist was involved with the whole mess. So far, the coastal areas remained relatively unhindered with the interior problems. Not yet, at least. But that fact remained that the colony situation was getting to a fever pitch as the colony administrators and management continued to go at it with the protesting mine workers. But, that wasn’t Cale’s call to make, and certain ranking elements at Fleet Command in ‘Frisco seemed determined to contain the colony situation no matter who or what … and she would follow her orders.

Corianis Colony Mission Log Location: USS Jackrabbit NCC-2421/Planetary Orbit Captains Ready Room The crew of the Jackrabbit were currently on day twelve of their police keeping mission to the colony world of Corianis, and though things were going as well as could be expected despite with the constant state of rolling uproar across the continents of the planet, Captain Ashton “Crash” Calestorm was bone tired and needed a solid eight hours of sleep to shake off the feeling. Whether or not she actually got the sleep was another matter entirely. Her long and lean frame was settled in an aerodynamic desk chair, while her combat booted feet were propped on the corner edge of the desk. She gripped a glass of bourbon, on the rocks, in one hand. She sipped casually at an amber colored alcoholic drink that almost matched the color of her eyes, and looked for all the universe like she was fully relaxed. Yet, she would leap into action at a moment’s notice. Her XO, Lucas McCall, sat across from her in the offices only guest chair, also sipping on a drink. The light skinned Human female wore her usual on duty uniform of dark brown cargo trousers, black vest, and brown short sleeve uniform top. The officers and crew of the Jackrabbit typically wore the field uniforms that had been unofficially ‘adopted’ among the naval border patrol squads rather then the traditional gold, red or blue ‘pajama top’ uniform jacket of the Fleet at large. The black trousers and jacket tunic gave way to sweaters of a military cut, cargo vests and marine fleet issue BDU trousers on Cale’s ship. McCall was dressed similarly in his own dark brown and black uniform, and both of their rank pins were visibly secured to a flap on the protective uniform vests. McCall and Calestorm had been in an on again and off again romantic relationship for ten years now, and knew each other way longer then that, going all the way back to their basic training days at the Fleet academy. The two of them would never be married though; at most, if they were to ever settle down with one another, the union would be within a common law partner arrangement rather then a traditional marriage arrangement. Lucas knew without a doubt that Calestorm would never settle, at least not right now. She had her ship and her rank, and she was a quarterdeck breed through and through. Her body would probably give out on her before her desire to command did. He noticed, from an ease of long knowing what to look for, how she discreetly rubbed at the knee that had given her trouble since the Dominion War. Most of the time, she was able to ignore the pain. Other times, the meds worked … when she chose to use them. And, the bourbon was a time honored home grown medicinal method that she would employ when option one or option two crashed and burned. “What’s your professional opinion on the Corianis situation Captain Calestorm?” “This situation is growing legs and walking Commander McCall.” Calestorm said with a derisive snort. “Any word on the new help?” “Agincourt’s been assigned.” “Bringing in one of the big guns? For a dilithium colony uprising?” “Beats the hell out of me Lucas. I don’t have a ‘why’ answer to even speculate on yet.” “Command team?” “Harper and JoNs. Colonel and Commander respectively.” “You know anything about them Crash?” Cale shrugged, noncommittally. “Just the information that their service biographies contain, and what I’ve heard through the Fleet grapevine. CO’s Human, cut her teeth coming up through the marine ranks, and has time served during the Dominion War, same as us. The XO’s a Cait, newly posted to senior command. I recognize the name, that’s about it, doesn’t have same time stretch served like the other one.” McCall took a sip of his own bourbon -- he didn’t particularly like the stuff, but he drank it occasionally with Ash when they had these off the record command staff meetings -- and then spoke his mind. “So … we have a front line battleship on route, commanded by a seasoned ground pounder and a slightly green Exec, to further contain the situation here at the colony. I don’t like it Cale. One colony, putting aside it’s a major dilithium producer, can’t be worth this much hassle. The ‘Rabbit’s a Miranda class border boat, we belong here. But, a Prometheus class vessel pulled from the main line Alpha sectors to schlep all the way out here? It just doesn’t make much sense to me.” She tilted her head slightly in agreement, the overhead lighting tracks that illuminated the smaller officer area catching some of the strands of gray in her hair and making them contrast with the still wheat blond colored hair. “I agree, but orders are orders, and we work with ‘em if we like the content --or who we’re scheduled to work with -- or not.” ‘You think the civilians’ll keep going off like this?” She tucked an errant strand of gray hair that had escaped the braids behind an ear. “I think this’ll all get worse before it gets better. We may have to crack a few heads together. And, we’ve been given the clearance to do so … which bumps it up to a whole ‘nother level. Question is, why did these riots suddenly seem to blossom across the planet?” Lucas McCall quirked an eyebrow towards his hairline, and gave a good natured reply. “We’re border patrol: first to go, last to know.” Calestorm just smirked and moved her arm slightly, bringing her midair glass about halfway across the desk area, indicating a toast of camaraderie and agreement to that last statement. Lucas complied and clinked his glass against hers. The CO of the Jackrabbit knocked back the last of her drink and set the now empty glass on the scuffed slate gray desktop surface. Then she unfolded her lanky frame and stood up from her seat on the desk chair, moving her leg to stretch out a kink in her bad knee. “Okay, we got a department head debrief to run through.” Her tone was polite but all business, effectively signaling to McCall that the quick drink break had given way to the day to day business of running the ship. The hefty Human male nodded his assent, and stood to accompany her down to the main briefing room one deck below them.

Corianis Colony Alpha Quadrant Captain Ashton Marie Calestorm currently hung by a harness lifeline outside a retro-fitted shuttle atmosphere hopper. The sliding entry way doors set to either side of the shuttle were completely retracted, like an old style Earth helicopter, letting in the air and dirt of the colony world that she and her crew had been retro actively assigned to for the next few weeks. There was the smell of a distant rainstorm on the wind as well, and the whiff of the elements was intoxicating to the middle aged commanding officer. Her booted feet were purchased on the scarred dark gray deck plating within the small cargo area of the atmosphere shuttle hopper, but most of her upper body was hanging outside the shuttle’s exterior entry way. She wore the typical protective duty attire that most of her border patrol crew wore when they were dispatched on a planetary operation -- cap, flak vest, standard Fleet BDU trousers, gloves -- and unless you got a good look in her eyes, you’d mistake her for any other colony support soldier. Her light hazel eyes held an edge to them, the type of edge that a commander who had put some serious service time in usually gained as they moved up the command ranks usually gained over the years of service. She knew that she was at the top of her game and would never make it past captain, so that command edge was also tinged with a driving force that would make a Tarkathian pit bull proud. Calestorm was a consummate professional, she was very thorough at what she did, and she typically embraced the moment and the mission with a passion that was borderline psychotic. And her Executive Officer, maintaining the co-pilots seat and console at the front of the cockpit, was having kittens for lack of a better term as his captain literally hung out in the wind. She pretty much ignored him and his minor hysterics and enjoyed the rush of the moment as she made use of a portable digital-sensor camera that she wore headphone style on her ear and left eye grabbed some recon shots. She was a hands on commanding officer, always had been, and she didn’t intend to change now. Lieutenant Nisho tr’Astorix, a half blood Rihan/Human who had been with the crew of the Jackrabbit for well over five years now, just smirked at the back and forth exchange between his captain and first officer and piloted the small three man flight craft, the amused light it his eyes not visible behind the tinted goggles of his pilot helmet. The dark skinned shuttle pilot and helm officer merely did his job and piloted the colony patrol craft, letting his commanding officers flack back and forth at one another. Commander Lucas McCall, a Human male with light skin and dark hair that he kept in a close crew cut and possessed what was referred to as ‘classically rugged features’, threw his hands up in the air, already starting to admit defeat “Cale, will you please just stop hanging out … that much. At least put on a combat helmet.” “Stow it Lucas. Just let me be. I’ll get a few more shots of the grid mapping area of this mining camp and we’ll call it a day. The local administrators want to know if the more reprobate of these protestors are playing musical chairs with the camp locations so the local militia has a harder time trackin’ ‘em.” “You know, we do have shuttle sensor and tracking programs that can record images.” “Hush up. That’s an order.” Her southeastern Old Earth Americas accent (commonly referred to as a Southern accent), spiked and the regional inflections on her words became more prominent, indicating that she was reaching the end of her patience with McCall and his griping. She and Lucas had served together for years now, but that didn’t mean that’d she’d hesitate to put him in his place command wise. Cale had once been an attractive woman. She still retained that quality of beauty, but age, command, and time spent within the harsh weather environments on a few dozen colony border worlds had etched their mark on her exposed skin areas. She had crows feet set at the corners of her eyes, and age lines snaked about her mouth. Her hands were still of a feminine shape, yet had grown strong manipulating first a starfighter control stick and then the controls of a Helm console on a few starships. They were battle scarred as well, with burns and cuts long healed and calluses marring their skin surface. Her wheat colored hair had streaks of gray appearing throughout the strands, and she walked with a slight limp due to rampant battle injury induced arthritis that kept coming back in her right knee. She most often answered to Captain or Calestorm from those she worked with and the officers and crew under her command. Old friends and former pilot’s that she had flown with on past assignments called her Cale or by her call sign, Crash. Her family called her Ash or Cale. Only her mother was permitted to call her Ashton Marie. The USS Jackrabbit had been assigned to the Corianis colony world about two months ago. Cale and her crew had originally brought in some supplies and replacement workers for the mining colony, and then were to set out on standard patrol within the sector. But, things had not gone according to plan, and the patrol ship and her 100 personnel crew had been ordered to go into full police mode per the orders of Admiral James “Mork” Mkory back at Fleet Command. While the Miranda class ship had been completing the routine drop off mission, things had taken a turn for the worse on the world. Stories on the local newswire indicated a rift between colony management and the workers who kept the dilithium flowing. That rift had turned into local uprisings, and now, the situation was teetering on full blown riot mode. As the resident Starfleet ship, pending any further clearance from Fleet Command on Earth, Calestorm had launched into lockdown mode, sending out her security patrols to try and help the local colony police and civilian militia with the irate civilians railing against the colony administrators. The Jackrabbit had been retrofitted about eight years ago with the Hopper class shuttles, and these shuttles were primarily made for colony world operations such as atmosphere patrol, personnel transfer, supply drops if transporters couldn’t punch through ion interference, and the shuttles were usually posted to border patrol vessels such as Cale’s ship. The shuttles could either be locked down or plated like your typical Fleet transport, carrying up to eight passengers including pilot and co pilot. But, they could also be swapped out and stripped down easily by the engineering crews depending on the needs of a particular colony mission. In this case, Cale, McCall and tr’Astorix were using the three man patrol boat configuration typically employed for low atmosphere supply runs, recon hops, or even crowd control. Nisho banked the shuttle off to the north west so they could get a look at the secondary mining camp within this area of the planetary grid. The Rihan was one of the better Jackrabbit Helm officers, but even so he had to fight through some turbulent winds; Cale hunkered down and held onto her harness apparatus, squinting her eyes even through her protective goggles. The Jackrabbit had been one of the more successful test subjects using the atmosphere shuttle hoppers, but Calestorm felt an uncommon heaviness in her chest considering the way that she was employing the shuttles right now: she had authorized the use of non lethal force against any pockets of rioters the patrol shuttles came across during their vector runs. So far, the incidents had been minor, and any combatants had dispersed easily. For now, the problems were contained amongst the mining camps scattered across the surface of the colony world, but the riots and uprisings were slowly spreading into the larger colony urban areas as well as the small ground based spaceport and orbital platform. But, it was only a matter of time before the riot situation got really out of hand, and Cale had already heard rumors over the sector to sector wireless that another Starfleet ship might be coming in to further contain the rioting on the world. In a way, she resented the help let alone the incursion of another ships command staff into what she considered her territory, but she couldn’t do much about it when it came down to orders from the ‘Frisco based Admiralty. She was still mad enough to spit nails at the whole damn cluster frack though, and fully intended to see this mission -- her mission -- through to the end. tr’Astorix came over the internal wireless that the three of them shared via their connecting ear communication devices; the little communicators glowed a lurid shade of blue, indicating that the officers were contacting one another. “Sir, we have tone on that camp down there; one of the locals is on the network wireless. They have a riot brewing down there.” Cale paused with her recon shots, and felt her jaw set even as she made the mental decision. She swung back into the interior of the shuttle, disengaging her harness through easy of practice and linked her headgear over onto the internal combat mode that the shuttles shared with one another so she could monitor her other shuttle patrol teams that were out and about as well. “McCall, contact our Hopper patrolling the North vector; have them fly a straight run and drop tear gas on the problem area.” “Any warnings?” “Why? Didn’t do any good last time when we flew over this area and broadcasted the please disperse orders over the audio. No warnings. They have clearance to just up and let loose with the gas, my authorization. If the colony admin wants to complain, lord knows it won’t be the first time. Fleet Command told us to contain the situation as best we can, and that’s what we’re doin’ here.” Her tone came out so decisive and flat, that McCall chose not to question the orders as he had done the last time. Cale had dressed him down pretty good in private, and he had no desire to attract her general tetchiness again. They might have served together for a long time, but when the woman got a notion in her head, she was the reaper on the wind and lord help you if you faltered or got in her way. This Corianis colony de facto mission had indeed put her into her full command mode, and she had gone stubborn as all get out. “Aye sir, forwarding your orders on now, confirmed by our lead Lieutenant on call.” The Captain huffed out a breath of air through her nose. It was going to be another long day trying to quell these factions that are uprising…

When shopping, at whatever time of the year, it is best to avoid (unless you need to buy a gift or whatever) the perfume counters. Now there is an inhaled pass out waiting to happen. Do not breathe deeply. Safe shopping tip of the day.

... and why do I have the sudden desire to watch that Bugs Bunny cartoon where the drunk stork delivers him to the Gorillas? Oh well.