Mitar Precip

2418 The Best Laid Plans... Cycles of Death Hideout-Warehouse ward, Unspeakable District Byblos towered over his fellow Nausicaan gang member, Vargros, and viewed what the expert slicer was pulling up on his terminal. “So who will be present at this ceremony aside from the primary target, Daniel Winston?” Vargros turned his chair to face the tactical planner of mission. “Oh, you are going to be quite pleased. Presuming you succeed.” Vargros looked up to the standing Byblos. “I have penetrated the Sunset District Guardian Precinct HQ quite cleanly. Query Erased, ah the typical Guardian-” “WHO is going to be present!” Byblos interrupted the seated Nausicaan. He knew Vargros liked to try describe his “works of slicing art” as he once put it. But it got in the way of business. “Vargros stay focused.” Byblos toned himself down. “Oh besides your Primary, the Sheriff himself will be present along with a dozen Guardians. I have there names and ranks as well,” Vargros grinned. “Sheriff Iktar Senar himself? Hah!” The other Nausicaan half laughed as he looked at the datapadd Vargros had produced. “And his underling Deputy Shrike? The bastard who gave Winston access to all their vehicles?” Byblos paused momentarily as a wave of hatred rushed over him. “We must not fail in our attack. Senar is a fool to have selected such a location for the ceremony. And killing Shrike, the one with the brains in the precinct, what a bonus. But...their numbers...” “As you said yourself Byblos, Sheriff Senar picked a building that can be easily isolated by our remaining Cycles. And our special acquisition from the spaceport...Our tri-speeder carrying it with our best gunners.” Vargros tried to restrain himself, but clapped anyways. “You can inflict a deadly counterstrike against the Guardian maggots!” “Yes our delivery courtesy of those latinum-hungry workers at the spaceport can easily deal with the numbers assuming we have access to all holocams around the target building and that ODRI pulse you have been working nights on?” “It will work.” Vargros noted Byblos’ doubt. “ODRI’s are amazing devices. Tackling them all locally will be easier than just disabling Deputy Shrike’s, I assure you. Also, their lack of a sniper team I have noted on the datapadd is a plus. Even if there were a team, my Pulse will disable their ability to counter our surprise before it is too late.” Byblos glanced at the Datapadd, then at the large display screen table behind him. Facing him was their leader, a Nausicaan, with the absolute desire to strike back at the Guardians. “No Snipers, and a stupid adversary presiding. Very well. Proceed with the attack. If this succeeds we shall turn the tide the Winston Pe’taq sent against us!” the elder leader of the Cycles of Death proclaimed.

Some of you all are Hockey fans, and are aware of the Russian Plane crash earlier today. We know tragedies like this happen, it..for me is just unbelievable that an entire team was wiped out. This was a highly competitive league in Russia that included NHL players and personnel. My local team, Anaheim Ducks lost one of their former players in the crash. The guy was the defense of the team in the formative years of the club and beyond. We have pictures and autographs from this kind athlete Ruslan Salei who came from Belarus in our home to play here in Anaheim. Bad news happens. I just cannot recall an entire sports team wiped out.. Just shocking Precip, Stunned Hockey fan.

Gonna miss you Caitan! Good Luck with all your endeavors! Precip

So I have basically said for Blood and Chrome to succeed it needs to show Galactica refreshed. Oddly antiquated in appearance, yet a top of the line Battlestar. New viewer angles of the ship to maker her look more armed than she was in BSG. Smaller colonial cruisers would be a must. Viper Mark 2s as top of the line...perhaps a look at the Viper Mark One? And Raptors w/changes to look more antiquated as well. That's the easy part. The show somehow has got to succeed on a character level in a functional military environment, that is the colonial military still exists. You cannot as easily sneak in a Kara Thrace type character. I sort of recall a show called Space Above and Beyond that was short lived, war in space show that actually had some decent reviews. Given the amount of cash SyFy is going to put into Blood and Chrome storytelling and writing individual episodes instead of a continual arc is going to be new to Eick. How to develop great characters in a show depicted during a war that already must focus on Adama..is what will sink or save Blood and Chrome. These guys have a big shoes to fill having show based aboard a ship where the BSG storyline took place. I really want Blood and Chrome to succeed. I just ponder how all these Star Trek writers can get gritty and pull it off while the Captain's chair is vacant. (RDM not there). Sure you want to ax those webisode prequels SyFy? Or do you wish to presume no BSG fan watched Caprica..? -Agent P

2420 Tranquility City, Unspeakable District-Klingon Quarter The Guardian intending to enter the Klingon tavern named The Bat`leth was instantly stopped at the doors by two larger-than-average Klingons wearing outfits which resembled those of the Klingon military. But this tavern was not on a Klingon controlled world, it was Tranquility City, and in the Unspeakable District, of all places. “Your kind are not welcome here,” spoke the over-sized Klingon on the left, his a tone of disgust a clear reference to the Guardian uniform. His partner was on a COMM unit requesting instructions. A meant-to-be-seen security camera was instantly focused on the Guardian, who was big for a human and fighting a battle of the “bulge.” The human was smoked a cigar, something else the two Klingon guards did not care for. The bold Guardian carried a Klingon disruptor in his holster. That holster completed the look of the individual who was clearly out of his element, deep in the Klingon Quarter of the District. Despite his locale he simply folded his arms in front of the two large Klingons and puffed away at the disgusting wad of dried plants the Klingons knew humans had an attraction for. He clearly had courage showing up on his own... perhaps insanity was a better word. The Klingon with the Comm unit flashed a look of surprise and instructed his partner to allow the Guardian into the establishment. This was out of the norm. The Guardian, who simply sported a jacket, badge, and weapon along with standard issue trousers, someone in the Guardian organization the owner knew. In fact when the Klingon guard informed his superior about the Guardian’s holstered disruptor, it wasn’t an issue at all. The owner on the COMM link, whose voice was past the point of being loud, stated the Guardian be allowed entrance immediately. Guardian Sheriff Albert “Big Al” Knorr nodded in respect to the two Klingons whom he knew were simply doing their job. Sheriff Knorr’s job was to assist and inform the Klingon owner of events he knew about. He didn’t consider himself a spy, but a man of action working for the common good of all in the Unspeakable District and beyond. Upon entry he was instantly greeted by snarls and insults from the Klingon patrons of tavern known as the Bat`leth. Inside the establishment smelled of Klingon cuisine and other things the nose of the sheriff could not identify. The large bar featured a huge bat`leth shaped icon behind it, “stained” in blood. The bartenders kept to their own business, serving large mugs of bloodwine and plates of Klingon cuisine to their customers. Suddenly the bar became quieter as a Klingon with one arm noticeably missing amicably greeted the Guardian and displayed his fangs to those who objecting the Human’s presence. The facial display had the intended result. Next, the Klingon turned to his visitor. “Greetings Al Knorr. I was not expecting you. Why could this matter not wait until after hours?” the Klingon in charge of more than just the local tavern asked. Sheriff Knorr took the cigar out of his mouth and stated the obvious to his friend Vosh’rok. “This couldn’t wait my friend. We need to discuss options.” “Of course, Al Knorr,” Vosh`rok replied as two even more formidable Klingons with bat`leths and other weapons arrived, flanking the maimed Klingon. “To my secure suite immediately then.” With that, the odd assemblage immediately headed for a back room behind the bar and the chatter and bloodwine resumed flowing throughout the tavern.

Yeah not wise to discuss to get off topic that way. I heard that some suggested Caprica failed because it lacked the "Space" element. I guess that meant no space battles, ships, bases anything. Blood and Chrome would be the test of that theory. I am curious if Blood and Chrome is going to focus on the colonials in a long drawn out war with the cylons. The re-imagined Battlestar Galactica or what I lovingly call BSG, some say had a post 9/11 basis to it. Are the creators coming up with another show with some sort of basis on our 10 year war we have been fighting since. Again what amazes me is how many people involved in Star Trek are behind this project, like BSG had before it. I was a bit disappointed about the loss of the webisodes that were rumored to come before any pilot. For those could of closed the critical gap between Caprica and Blood and Chrome. I believe those are critical years in the re-imagined Galactica timeline that need filling in. -Precip

I don't think one can answer V`roy's comments without a through understanding of the theology presented in the prequel Caprica. Which is not an easy subject to say the least. What worries me about Blood and Chrome is the absence of Moore. Not to suggest he guarantees success, since Caprica was cancelled. However, he's been behind "combat" orientated series before and I feel that experience would be sorely missed. (I refer to the BSG remake and his presence on Deep Space Nine). In DS9 he didn't necessarily focus only on the battle episodes, such as the Dax- Worf wedding episode. Galactica herself would need be seen differently. I thought I read a piece where Galactica would be a top of the line Colonial Warship. Also we have seen this ship in action for four years, hopefully they would show her do some stuff not done in BSG that looks fresh..(example: Use of Nukes, or use of the scores of main batteries the ship had ...not just the ones on top.) FX shouldn't be a problem. The first series corrected Voyager's mistakes. The curious thing will be is how all these DS9 writers and David Eick will keep the same grit BSG had with all new characters, and less developed cylons. -Precip

2420 Guardian Precinct HQ Unspeakable District Breakroom, Before morning shift. The Precinct's breakroom was not the best of places. There were occasional insects, curses, and wanted signs many of which had been "edited" by Lawmen. The mood of the blandly lit breakroom was of frustration with talk of Minos, how he bested Marshal Savoy and what the Taurus Brothers were going to do about it. For Mark Winston, all plans of his reassignment to the high-rise district for sniper training were put on hold. His assigned trainer was now unavailable. No sheriff was allowing any of their personnel on special assignment with the recent developments of Minos' escape. All Mark could do was wait and try to find out what plans were in store for him courtesy of Sheriff "Big Al" Knorr. In the meantime he thought of showing a fellow lawman his recently liberated ODRI from the "Garage Shootout" case locker while killing time in the bland room meant to keep the local Guardians happy. "Never seen a shared ODRI. Your very fortunate your father fixed this up so you can use it." Systems Control Officer (SCO) Dina Crystal commented as she held the Winston ODRI. "Well, my father certainly was a planner. Have you had any luck accessing the encrypted data files he left on it?" Mark asked from the other side of the mess table. "No, sorry Mark. I'm a system operator. Basically the equivalent to an operations officer on a Starship. I'm not a slicer." Crystal frowned as she handed the ODRI back to Mark. "I am familiar with some ODRI technology, but as you can see," Crystal showed her wrists, "I am not fortunate to own one." "And I sure as heck am not going to some ODRI store on the corner to buy one like your partner did," Crystal added as she sipped her caf." Blegh.!! Can't any Guardian alive make a decent pot!" Dina promptly dumped her entire beverage in the recylcer. Mark smiled. He liked Dina; he wasn't certain what the SCO of the Precinct HQ thought of him. Maybe he should try to get to know the voice he often heard on the hovercar's comm. What the heck? "So how did you get to be the SCO of the lovely Unspeakable District?" Mark took the risk. "Not quite the same way you got here for sure!" Dina laughed. "I'm referring of course to your father landing that shuttle on his assigned plot. What in the world was he thinking? They did tell him he was supposed to take registered transport from Alderbaran and have everything processed at the port?" Mark wasn't certain if she was evading his question with another. He proceeded if it was an innocent remark about his Father's "famous" boldness. "Yes, they did. But everything we had..was tied into that shuttle we left-" "Stole" Crystal inserted. "It was our home." Mark carried on. "Mobile.... He wasn't about to have some Guardian Port official evict us. So he just said 'c'mon Mark'...and we took off with our plot assignment in hand." "Lucky you weren't shot down." "Yeah but the Alderbaran spaceport was just packed with asylum seekers like us. Too many people for them to handle" Mark threw his hands up. They let us go; they knew we weren't carrying anything illegal. They scanned everything." Crystal smirked. "And gave the job to the Tranquility Port Authority, who ordered your father to land at the port and he refused... just kept going and landed." "Right where we were assigned to be." Mark pointed out. "Thank goodness the shuttle fit in the plot of land... barely." Crystal rolled her eyes. "I didn't really get to know your father. But what you two did... took guts. And how the heck you didn't end up in a cell I understand is another story all together!" "You're right Lawman Crystal." Winston agreed. "Now how did you get to Tranquility?" Crystal took her coffee and stood up looking at Mark briefly "Awwwh sorry Lawman, I have to hit the console. Another time perhaps. Maybe." The shortly cropped red head spun and did a beeline for the communications office. Mark exhaled while attaching his ODRI to his wrist. "Definitely do not have your skills, Dad. definitely."

I've mentioned this already..but this is the best representation of Qob I have seen on the Web....posted by Zaphod. It covers that dual deck neck thing where are quarters are that has been giving me headaches. Note it also has a cargo ramp and deck for storage. Another plus for a Nausicaan working out..or if we haul stuff. I apologize for such an aggressive stance on trying to pin down what Qob looks like, but for me with simming I find it easier to gameplay on a ship if I know where I am. Thanks Zaphod. Precip/Byblos

2415 Orbital Starbase 57, crewman's lounge. "No, I had nothing to do with the Professor's projection show malfunction our freshman year. I am still amazed I stand accused right now." Cdr Baxter leaned back against his chair savoring his scotch. Daniel Winston laughed in reply. "I was never accused even by the faculty." "That's because Rachel and I erased any evidence you had left behind. What the heck were you thinking 'reinventing' Orion's belt, with those images? The whole class was busting up. Professor Richards wanted to set his image controller to a 'kill setting' once he saw your handiwork." Daniel reminded Sean. "Richards was the first Professor, but not the last to experience mayhem at the academy while all three of us were there," Baxter chuckled. "There were your repeated modifications to the Dr. Snart's personal vehicle, Mr. Daniel Winston" "Oh, the thermodynamics Professor," Winston recalled. "That guy was a menace to the campus roadways; he had to be tamed. Funny thing is, it was Rachel who had the meltdown over Snart, remember? She did get sideswiped by the guy. Hell hath no fury like her scorn." "I was just grateful she was all right. You two were quite the lovebirds sophomore year already," Baxter leaned in. "Admit it Daniel. She made you do those unwanted modifications to Snart's hovercar." "And I lovingly obliged; it was a simple problem to fix. I just reset the governor on his engine for a top speed of 10 kph. Rachel eagerly hacked into the hovercar lot's security cam to give me plenty of time to do it. What was amazing to me was the guy had a Doctorate and couldn't figure out the 'problem.' "Have to admit without Rachel we wouldn't have had so much fun at the academy. That science brain of hers could tackle any computer system." Winston slightly sank into his chair with a face of remorse. "It's alright to still miss her Daniel." "I know, Sean. I just want to curse at something. Yet all I have is the Acute Xindi Flu to target for killing her." "Hey, a toast to Rachel and all the wonderful times the three of us had together." Baxter insisted. The two men toasted their drinks in the near-empty lounge. "Well it's getting late. I gotta turn in. I hope you and Mark have a great vacation together." The commander stood up from the table. "Two weeks of historical sights to see. Drop me a line would you?" "I at least owe you that, friend; you take care. Don't get into trouble." Daniel stood and shook Sean's hand. "I gotta go retrieve Mark at the library before they kick him out. I'll send you a communique once we are away in the boonies of space." "Good Man, Good night, Mr. Winston. Godspeed. And no, I won't get into trouble.... I am a responsible officer now!" Sean Baxter smiled as he exited the lounge. Daniel was left standing in the lounge leaving a tip as he watched his best friend depart for the night. It would be the last time he would see his best friend.

Welcome. Bull’s Head/Tranquility City Law Enforcement Database Public Database Note: Please bear with us as we are undergoing server updating. Public Notice: The Criminal known as Minos has been apprehended. Please do not file any “sightings” reports. For Rainmaker inquiries/sightings and anonymous tips please press this link HERE. For persons with outstanding warrants in Tranquility City and other locals of Bulls Head Please press link HERE. To View the Guardian’s Ten Most Wanted Fugitives please press HERE. For all other inquiries please type subject or organization below: BYBLOS Please wait while your request is processed. This may take a few minutes...... File Found. Press HERE for Public Information regarding your selection. SUBJECT NAME : BYBLOS (LAST NAME UNKNOWN) SPECIES: NAUSICAAN HEIGHT: 2.13 m WEIGHT: 125 kg AGE: UNKNOWN PRESS HERE FOR IMAGE: ERROR IMAGE FILE UNAVAILABLE. PUBLIC NOTICE: SUBJECT IS CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. IF SEEN CONTACT GUARDIAN TIP LINE OR VISIT : SUNSET DISTRICT Sheriff's OFFICE. INFORMATION AVAILABLE TO PUBLIC: Subject Byblos is a Nausicaan wanted by Guardian Law Enforcement for the following Charges: MURDER OF GUARIDAN(s), CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT MASS MURDER AGAINST GUARDIANS, ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON(s),MAKING TERRORIST THREATS, KIDNAPPING, EXTORTION, AIDING AND ABETTING FELONS, GRAND THEFT, VEHICULAR THEFT, DESTRUCTION OF GUARDIAN PROPERTY, FORCED ENTRY, WEAPONS TRAFFICKING, POSSESSION OF EXPLOSIVES, DRIVING UNDER THE INFLUENCE, EXCESSIVE SPEEDING.... For other misdemeanors press HERE. Comments: Suspected Mastermind of the “GARAGE SHOOTOUT” in the SUNSET DISTRICT in 2418. This incident described by many is the worst Gun Battle to take place in history of the Sunset District between Guardians and Klingon Diplomats and members of a Hovercycle Gang called “Cycles of Death”. This incident resulted in the deaths of seven beings, including four guardians. Believed to have risen in the ranks of the Nausicaan led “Cycles of Death” since arriving at Bull’s Head in 2410 due to mainly having a tactical mind something unusual for Nausicaan Criminals who commonly use brute force. The “GARAGE SHOOTOUT” displayed this by directly assaulting a ceremony honoring civilian Daniel Winston, who was responsible for modifying the Local Precinct’s Speeders to keep up pace with “Cycles of Death” hovercycles. This had the effect of a severe crackdown on the “Cycles of Death”.Winston was killed during the shootout. which was deemed as an assassination, but due to the immense volume of gunfire exchanged in the incident, it was dubbed the “GARAGE SHOOTOUT” by media outlets.Two Klingons were also killed.. As a result this suspect is wanted by the Klingon Government as well. None of the Nausicaan Gunman involved in the battle (as described by Klingon survivors) survived. Continued crackdowns rumored “aid” by the Klingon Government have broken the back of the “Cycles of Death”. Byblos is the highest ranking member to be still on the loose. REWARD OFFERRED FOR THE APPREHENSION OF THE CRIMINAL SUSPECT KNOWN ONLY AS BYBLOS. AGAIN IF SEEN DO NOT MAKE CONTACT WITH SUSPECT WHO IS ARMED AND DANGEROUS CONTACT YOUR LOCAL GUARDIAN PRECINCT IMMEDIATELY. End of Public File. If you found this information helpful please press HERE to take a brief survey. Bull’s Head/Tranquility City Law Enforcement Database Public Database

Woah! BIg change! I imagine some decisions will have to be made on what sort of attachments you can post, since it would appear to me this messageboard has a few more capabilites? -Precip

Greetings all, I downloaded Firefox 4 hoping it would take care of the hiccup prior versions seem to have on my machine and that is placing the cursor while typing a message on this board. I honestly cannot see the cursor, which makes editing difficult. Google Chrome works fine, so I am not certain if it is a hiccup with Firefox and Invision powered boards or some configuration on my Firefox that needs correcting. Any help or input would be appreciated. -Precip

With the New Board Upgrade the cursor problem no longer exists! Yeah!!! -Precip

Wow..after all these years I never saw this question. I imagine, despite the Games Frozen year principle. Mitar would be in his 30s given the rank of Commander. The time this bio was made, I probably was placing him around his lower 20s. -Precip's Player

Another Evening.... <A joint log between Mitar Precip and Nancy Smith> Nurse Nancy Smith had received a beautiful bouquet from Commander Mitar Precip upon his exit, however, he was a hand off to Dr Chalice, not a direct pass. She wondered why he walked past her desk without as much as a word, yet took the time to have Dr Chalice accept the flowers on her behalf. ‘Strange, those Bolian customs’, she thought. She knew in her heart, it didn’t matter how he delivered them... they were for her! She took the flowers back to her quarters and placed them in the center of her little table. Nurse Bellamy wouldn’t leave her alone about the card, so she had tucked it into her smock for safe keeping. She opened it to read, “Dear, Nancy I enjoyed our time together and I find myself desiring more of that time. Would it be possible for us to have another evening together. I am not a great cook, well I can’t cook. Anyways..if you could stop by my quarters tomorrow after work. I would be honored.-Mitar” Next Evening Cdr. Mitar Precip’s Quarters... Precip was pacing back and forth. Did she get the note? Blasted Ensign Bull, forced Kansas Kenickie to require his immediate attention, therefore handing the Roses to Dr. Chalice, not Nancy! Now, the anxiety he was feeling was incredible, something he wasn’t familiar with..it wasn’t like going into battle. This was just an evening with another being, albeit a human one why did he feel this way? Her quarters went dark as she exited. She didn’t know what to wear, but remembered that Mitar looked so handsome last time. She didn’t want to frighten him off by revealing her deep feelings for him, and definitely not for just how long she had felt that way. The twinkle in her eyes came long before she held his head over the vomit bucket. She noticed him when she was first assigned to Manticore. He came in for a physical. it was all she could do to walk him to that biobed and go back to her station. She didn’t care for the tall handsome beige men, this blue man was adorable! She slipped into the turbolift and up to his deck. When she exited, a couple of the upper officers were about to step in when she exited. The gave her a funny look, as if to inquire about her presence on this deck. She nearly floated through the corridor towards his quarters. Mitar quickly checked his appearance and noted he looked okay. He wasn’t in his dress uniform this evening. He selected a more casual attire, since he could not come close to the effort Nancy made that night. Hence he was embarrassed, he’d have to ask her what she would like to eat! “Computer, dining menu, human cuisine..display on wallscreen.” The computer “beeped” a warning. “ File too large for local data file processor. Recommend narrowing request.” Mitar’s eyes rolled into his head. What was he going to do? Humans ate EVERYTHING it seemed! “Computer, narrow search based on human preference of food color.” When Nancy waddled to his door, she paused outside, listening for a moment. She looked down, adjusted a flower from the bouquet that she had attached to her collar, then finally chimed. Precip immediately surrendered his battle with the computer with the chiming of his door. He bolted for it. And pushed the entry key. Lo and behold it was Nancy Smith..she did get his card. “Nurse Nancy! I mean...Nancy! Come in please, I was just having some computer issues with the replicator.” Mitar smiled. “Pehraps you could help?” With a friendly gesture he guided her in. Her grin was huge at his presence. With a huge blush, she responded, “Thank you Mitar,” now that they seemed clearly on a first name basis. Her mother would be so proud. She waddled and followed him into the room. “I am a bit embarrassed. Since Bolians usually eat on their own, dining with others can be very challenging for the first time. I tried to access the computer for human cuisines you might like, but the recipe file was the size of a Klingon Battlefleet.” Mitar conceded. “Uhm,” Precip hesitated. “ I could use some Tactical Advice,” Mitar winced inside, for this was turning into a lost battle quickly. “Do you have something in mind?” When in doubt make the opponent make the first move. “Opponent” Mitar thought...If Nancy could read minds, as the Tactical officer of the USS Manticore guided Nancy to his replicator viewscreen. “Well, at least you don’t eat your own!” she started giggling with her pudgy rounded cheeks. “I think that its easier to order human fare if you choose a meat, a vegetable and a dessert. It’s rather boring, but it does satisfy the pallet. What do you usually combine when you order for yourself?” She moved to the table, since he was already working on the meal. “Well there are fish on Bolarus. Okay a Vegetable, how about an apple? And, next for dessert..uh this looks interesting--German Chocolate Cake? She refused to correct the vegetable reference, as many times she had held up an orange to her sister’s kid and said the word, “apple” in the past, just to torture her. The replicator did it’s thing once it finally received the data it needed. Quickly Mitar brought the dishes to Nancy. “Fish, apples..and the computer says do we want our dessert served with dinner? What do you suggest Nurse Nancy?” “Just Nancy,” she placed her hand on his arm after he set the food down,”We can have dessert after these two items.” She paused and looked down at the fish, then continued, “and after we bring it to a warmer temperature. Humans cannot consume fish products of this type without a little heat being applied.” She winked at him, then had the replicator correct the cooking part. She also called for a knife and apple corer to carve up the apple. she brought these things back to the table with a waddling smile. “These will be just perfect, Mitar.” “Thanks for the assist Nancy, you are indeed a lifesaver,” Precip Grinned and pulled her chair out for her. ”I do believe I did get part this right last time.” “You get all of the parts right, Mitar.” She clung to his every word and melted down in to the chair. And amazingly Mitar thought she did it again, she took away his anxiety about getting things right. Accepting the fact he was..different. Nancy was truly a unique being to him. Why hadn’t he met someone like her earlier in life. “So, what shall we discuss tonight--aside from that giant Sphere attached to the ship right now.” They talked another evening away, Mitar enjoying every bit of Nancy’s humor and wit. Nancy unwound the stress of the last nine days in just a few hours. She was a miracle to him, just as he was the ultimate handsome hunk to her, and she adored him. They finished the dessert while their conversation continued to bloom. Mitar realizing the hour was getting late, conceded the evening. “I imagine it’s time to part. You have these early shifts in sickbay.” “I do, Mitar.” She wanted to tell him how much this invitation meant to her, but she also was warned a million times from Nurse Bellamy not to blabber all of her feelings. “I do believe I owe you a kiss for putting up with me yet again,” Precip gently extended Nancy’s hand and gently touched his lips to her skin, this time a bit longer showing his sentiments. “Goodnight Nancy, and Thank you so much.” She didn’t even notice the spike of pain that was ensued upon her skin when his lips met her hand, but reveled with a giggle. “Good night, my sweet prince” was all she could utter while she waddled out of the room and back to her quarters. As the doors closed Commander MItar Precip now thought, “did she dub me royalty?” It wasn’t until the next morning that she noticed his little reminder left on the back of her hand.

t"Please forgive Mitar's driver for posting this over a week late, since it's Nancy's driver's fault for not responding in a timely manner. Nancy/Vilanne's driver." Mitar Precip sat on a lounge seat on deck 3, the "Viewdeck" of Manticore as some now called it. His eyes could not miss the gigantic sphere housing the Coxeter's fantastic four dimensional drive. The Sphere was a marvel of out of spacedock construction between two vessels' crews. It just didn't seem possible that two ship's crews could construct such a thing, AND give the Coxeter Manticore's own warp engines without a Starbase's equipment. Yet the Hex drive test worked! It was nine days after Captain Weyl revealed his means of powering his invention. It Turned out the technology needed to power his engine was not of his own creation, but some alien artifact that somehow was linked to him when he chose to place his arm inside it. The situation was utterly insane. No. Weyl was insane, Mitar corrected himself and Mele had agreed. How could such a man reach for something so risky and expect to contain the results?The thing drew his life energy from him when worn. Insanity. Recklessness. Beyond Reason..all came to his mind regarding Weyl. Yet it passed it's first test. Was the CSEC of Manticore wrong? Mitar turned his gaze away from the huge window into space. Precip needed peace of mind. Something or someone to clear his head of Weyl and the temporal physics Mitar failed to understand. Peace of mind was never easy to find on Manticore. But he discovered it with Ensign Nancy Smith R.N. of Manticore's sickbay. He couldn't quite grasp why he felt so at ease with her. Was it her training or something in her character? He guessed the later because she had the training all Starfleet Nurses had, otherwise she wouldn't be so attractive to him. He had dined with her to repay the kindness she had provided him all those times in sickbay. Now, he needed to be with her again. He hoped the roses and invitation to another dinner she would accept. There was the risk of her referring him directly to the ship's counselor, but Mitar didn't think Nancy would do that. There was something special between the two of them. She seemed so alive when they had dinner that night. It was an extremely pleasant experience to be with a being that put him so at ease. Truly, this was unexplored territory for Security Chief Commander Mitar Precip. An alien relationship of a different sort than Weyl's. This was more..human?

Vole Hunting: Part 2 Vole Eradication Map- Grid 30, 2 Kilometers NE of old Vesta colony well Daniel Winston, his seven year old son Mark and CO Sean Baxter were in a concealed position on an embankment about 25 meters from where Mark’s dad had earlier placed a container of replicated peanut butter. All three had their rifles ready and their eyes trained through their scopes. “C`mon you darn voles. Come get some. It’s been an hour already.” Baxter bemoaned. “Not much wind today Sir, but they will be here, I guarantee it. They love peanut butter” “I never understood why a Cardassian animal would like an Earth food we kids enjoy,” chirped the youngest hunter who was the only one who made an effort of hiding himself with leaves and sticks. “A future science report in the waiting Mark, and Mr. Smith would be most curious about your findings.” His dad had to mention. “Ugh more homework. No way!” “Actually, Lieutenant, I would like a full report on your rifle’s performance along with the old codger manning the Vole Desk,” said Baxter. “I did not expect to have to cover your latest stunt project on a family hunt. ‘Developed by many Starfleet Engineers’.. yeah right. You and some guy in a torpedo bay. Like that was a confluence of great minds.” “Shhh...quiet. Got one approaching the bait,” the Mark reported. The two officers immediately homed in their scopes on their target, a fat vole which clearly didn’t mind getting fatter, quickly began licking the bait. In a hushed tone Daniel let his CO know he always let his son have the first shot. Baxter quickly nodded. Next Winston quickly checked his ODRI to see if the area was free of stray hunters for his sons shot. “You are clear to zap son.” “Hey Mr. Baxter,” the boy quietly got Sean’s attention. “Watch what happens when you zap the vole’s tail” “Son I told you...” Mark’s first shot went wide right of the vole which instantly poked its head up. His next shot a few seconds later hit the vole’s tail. The fat vole screeched and lept a meter into the air, only to be zapped again by the boy’s rifle as it fell to the ground, limp. “Weapon safed,” the boy reported. “...not to show off-- Sean your rifle safed?” After he got his reply, he proceeded to the deceased vole and kicked it away from the trap with his foot, then “vaped” the vole using a smaller Type 2 Phaser. “That was quite a sight. I didn’t know voles could jump like that.” Baxter had to chuckle replaying the event in his head. As Mark’s father returned, the Commander had to ask. “How many years has he been hunting?” “Two. And please, sir, I’m trying to teach him this is serious business,” Daniel replied. “Speaking of business, if you wouldn’t mind, let me test this thing.” He returned to his position behind his scope of his rifle. “I need to see if it will take out a vole” “You won’t have to wait. Here comes another one. ODRI is clear. You’re clear to fire, Lieutenant.” Daniel checked the power selector on the rifle verifying a “low” status, chambered a round with a slight click. He trained his scope on the vole now enjoying some peanut butter. “Weapon free.” The gun made a quiet “woosh” as it fired. Being a projectile weapon it didn’t leave the optical trail seen with a phaser, disruptor or plasma bolt rifle. The vole just seemed to explode on its own near the bait, sending its remains all over the place. “WOW!” The child couldn’t restrain himself. “That was awesome! Great shot Dad!” Realizing what just happened, Dad buried his head and announced the rifle was safed. Commander Baxter’s tone was serious. “Heh, Mark, your dad and I need to talk over that...kill. We have to figure out how we are going to ‘vape’ that mess.” He turned his head to his lieutenant who knew his day shooting day was done. “C’mon Winston, grab that ‘hunting’ rifle of yours. Let’s solve this problem as engineers do.” Mark watched the two men carry their rifles to the splatterzone. He felt like his dad was on his way to the principal’s office.

This image come from a website called desktopstarships.com. I thought it was pretty representative of what Qob may currently look like in her weary state.

Paramount trying to elevate the ratings. They failed.

A Cautious Nausicaan? "Captain, Commander since we ditched our "guide" I feel I ought to let you know what I've observed so far since we've been down here. Excessive surveillance. Everywhere my tall head seems to turn there appears to be a globe or hemisphere mounted in a corner or wall near the ceiling. Our choice to ditch the tour guide will not go unnoticed. Also the lack of security from a "manpower" point of view is of note. If something or someone doesn't agree with their plan, they must have some sort of Striketeam in waiting, or more likely some sort of aerosol dispersant system to subdue any wanderers. I'm more inclined to believe the later based on my experience. Bynars and Vulcans are not ideal SWAT team species. Those who have ODRIs I encourage scanning. I do not have one, so I will just continue using my...big eyes." "Aww hell," Joe said, grabbing his forehead. "I completely forgot. We're not allowed to take any scans down here. It's a corporate espionage thing; they don't want research secrets getting stolen. It's in the Welcome Packet too, but I didn't bother readin' it since I've been here twice before. Get in touch with Pher, would you? Make sure her group understands." "At once sir.." Byblos activated his small comlink, Pher provided him. He was certainly glad she had done so now as he scrambled the signal in a hurry then commed the Orion. "Pher, Byblos. The Captain has mentioned some law regarding the use of ODRIs or other scanning tools at this place. He mentions use of such ..as an ODRI would be considered "Corporate Espionage" by law. The Boss says spread the word to your group." The Nausicaan turned to Joe with quick words "Message sent, Boss." "We'll hope that she hasn't had cause to scan anything yet," Joe said. "So, where do you want to go, Byblos? What catches a Nausicaan's interest in a high-tech underground lab complex? Aside from the glass eyes watching us from the ceiling, that is." "Well, weapons of course. The non-lethal variations we can get around the Guardian's inspections. There are only so many ways to take down a person without, how shall I say this..permanent damage." The Nausicaan grinned. Byblos added "Honestly though I think we need to look for some fixes for your ship Boss. Perhaps there are repair technologies being developed that can keep Qob moving. Perhaps even some sort of substance that can strengthen the hull plates on her wings or other weak spots." "But even if we did see something of excellent use, I doubt the ship's purse could afford such technologies in the labs 'rumored' to be down in these labyrinths. " Byblos looked to Joe with a kinda helpless look. He was broke, the ship's purse did not appear to have funds to put the ship into drydock? What could they possibly get here? Perhaps the Boss had something up his sleeve? "How do we acquire what we cannot pay for here boss?" The Nausicaan finally shut his trap. "Money isn't the only way to pay for something, my humongous friend," Joe replied. "Don't worry, I won't barter your bike ... unless we can get something really good for it. But there might be other things aboard we could barter. Services. Maybe even a cut of the Zoalus action. Some of the researchers here might be willing to reimburse us if we promise to smuggle some useful technology out of the ruins. "One thing you'll learn about our jobs, Byblos -- even when there's one distinct objective, there are always other opportunities to profit. We've just got to keep our eyes open ... like you're doing now." "Aye Boss, I will try not to blink." The Nausicaan replied with a grin.

Byblos moved the hovercycle with ease into the center of the Qob’s cargo deck. The cargodeck was small by freighter standards, but Qob was not a freighter, rather a scout-escort vessel from the Klingon Empire, now a ship crewed by Mercs in it’s older days. “Older days,” Byblos Muttered as he removed the tarp off the hovercycle and quickly got to work. He’d be dismantling a piece of his history over the next five days, only to refine it to his present days as a merc. Wasn’t the first time he was on a Merc vessel, probably not the last. The first item of business was simple and bore no pain, or brought back memories. Rather it was to remove a rotting piece of Targ leg meat from his saddlebag on the cycle. The last few days of settling in Qob and shopping with Pher had simply made him forget he left a meal in there. That was easily disposed off. The smell of the hold would be replaced with that of metalwork. Using tools acquired from Shane, the chrome exhaust system was the first to go. An asset of terror during his 10 year run with the “Cycles of Death” gang on Tranquility, it had to be replaced with something quieter. Stealthy. That would have to be built from scratch. The engine came next, it was meant to provide voracious acceleration ,speed and assist “gear braking” slowing the cycle down along with the “handgrips” braking system. Byblos had only five days to do clean and service the engine as well. Turning the bike into a “recon” hovercycle required adjusting the idle speed of the engine down as well. Simply removing the gigantic exhaust pipes would not solve the noise problem. The engine had to be rebuilt he eventually determined. He was confident he could do it. After 48 hours of work the cargo deck was strewn in the center with bike parts. Yet the Nausicaan knew where the parts were despite the mess. Other things appeared too. Roadblocks. Parts, lube and other things needed to get the bike in useful condition. Chief among them was a new fuel cell upon inspection of the original. Those were quite common on Tranquility. Would one be available on Xorax? Byblos was not sure. As Roadblocks presented themselves, Byblos turned to what actually stirred him. Servicing bikes had never an affect on him before, but this time it was required of him to strip the hovercycle that made the bike scream visually “Byblos!” Than included removing certain trinkets acquired from duties in the “Cycles of Death”. He decided to dispose of these items. Another life cycle had begun for him on Qob. Time to forget a decade of Tranquility and its Guardians. Most were “Trophies”. Guardian badges welded to the chasis, a chrome skull of a humanoid above the headlamp in the front of the bike. Guardian belt buckles. Armor. A loud noise maker up front, not a horn..but just something to scare the local populace with. A weapon’s mount for a disruptor pistol was also removed. The beautiful paint job he had admired for years of an unclothed Nausicaan woman was metalworked away. As 24 hours approached to arrival on Xorax, it was clear Byblos had done all he could do without requesting more supplies from Pher. He cleaned his mess and set the cycle and parts to the side of the bay. More parts..funds. This would not set well with the Orion he gathered. Pher seemed tolerant of him..but had to wonder. “More shopping with a Nausicaan!?”...the ultimate turn off for a woman in most parts. However, the term “Most Parts” did not apply to the destination the crew of the Qob was heading. Xorax..Byblos had heard of a Bynar built colony on a heavy gravity planet in the Hyades Cluster, he certainly hadn’t been there. After all Byblos thought-then muttered “Why would a Nausicaan visit a world built by TINY computer-centric aliens. It just sounds like a big headache waiting to happen!”

Byblos entered Qob's main engineering deck looking for the human cyborg he admired on Tranquility who was now the chief engineer of Qob, Shane. He didn't care to ask for his last name, nor what was happening..for given the ship's condition he was a busy man who could easily in an angry moment disembowel someone with that limb of his. So Byblos approached and kept it simple: "Pardon the intrusion, I am in need of a metal working tool kit. I have been ordered to make the hoverbike I brought along as collateral for my service on this ship...useful for planetwide missions. That means stripping all my enhancements I have made over the years and making it ...how shall I say this...tame." Byblos said with a slight smile. "If you wish you can observe me repair the bike, or have your former guardian assistant watch over me. If you do not trust me with your tools. " Byblos felt silly asking this, he knew he could use just about any tool when it came to fixing bikes. However, given his low standing on the ship he felt it necessary to humble himself. Shane's real hand slipped from the greasy piece of machinery on his work bench and slammed into the metal bulkhead beyond. He shook his head, cursing under his breathe. Only Klingons managed to get their power components this dirty . The cyborg glanced over his shoulder at the Nausicaan and kicked a metal case sliding across the metal floor towards him. "Quit yer jykin' groveling," he growled as he looked back down to his work, "if it ain't in the same condition when ya bring it back, I'll take it out on your bike." The Nausicaan walked to the tool kit picked it up. he looked at Shane, noting his foul mood. "Hija Klingons are not known for maintaining their gear whether it be ship systems or a using the head" As Byblos retreated from engineering with tool kit in hand, he mentioned something to Shane he felt he better know. "Shane...the hoverbike is no longer mine. I forfeited it to join this crew. If you punch a hole in the engine, the captain will be upset. It seems that is the last thing you need right now." The Nausicaan said no more and exited engineering happy with having the means to work on the bike, but worried about the man fixing the ship.

Byblos is currently trying to work out his outdated PADD interface with the STSF Messageboards He regret's the unsatisfactory appearance of the posted log and will switch PADD programs for future logs. Byblos' player

2408 Vole Hunting Part 1 Vesta Prime Surface Colony, Vole and Pest Eradication Office A glorious day on Vesta Prime brought the hunters out in force and the Winstons were no exception. Besides his seven year old son, Mark, today Daniel had brought his senior officer, Sean Baxter, to join the family hunt. “Well if it isn’t the Winstons,” belted out the familiar elderly official manning the deployment desk. “And I see you brought a friend! I take you are here to help the citizens of Vesta Prime eradicate the pestilence which is the Cardassian Vole?” “That was the plan for today,” declared Daniel. “I figured I’d invite some reinforcements from above in our battle. Mr. Smith, this is my commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Sean Baxter, Starfleet Engineers. Sean, Mr. Smith here has been manning the command post for as long as I have been here.” “Pleased to meet you.” Baxter shook Mr. Smith’s offered hand. “We’ve actually had a few voles make it up to the station and chew up some wiring. Blasted things.” “Sounds like I’ll have to put out an advisory to the colony spaceport.” Smith sighed as if a battle had been lost. “We cannot have these things spread to any nearby systems. I was once in Starfleet, before all the troubles came.” He left off, not wanting to bring up the war threatening to tear Starfleet apart. “Well I do not want to delay your civic duty.” Smith smiled. “I take it all three of you will be out there against the pests? If so, I need your prints on these PADDs here. You will also be given these arm band transmitters for your safety and the safety of other hunters. Your ODRIs will be able to pick up the transmitters on your sector map should any hunters stray into your assigned sector.” Daniel promptly handed a transmitter to his CO, demonstrating how to wear the device. Baxter attached it around his upper arm, resulting in a nod from Mr. Smith. Mark already had his on and seemed eager for the next item in the check-in. “Since there are three of you, you’ll be assigned to grid 30. That’s about two klicks northeast of the old well. There is a drainage canal in that area that seems to draw the vermin, so you should see some action,” Smith said while typing information into the computer at the deployment desk. “Time to show what we brought to zap them Voles!” Mark pepped up. “The young man is right, let us see what you will be using out there. Remember you need to be equipped not just to hit your targets but clean them up. As we call it-” “Shoot and Vape!” Mark interrupted with enthusiasm. “Yes, the boy is right. You vaporize your kills, else more voles will be drawn to the kill.” Smith mainly addressed Baxter, clearly the ‘new’ guy present. “We have two type two phasers, for vaporizing our kills,” Daniel, began, setting the ‘safed’ pistols in front of Mr. Smith. “As you already know young Mark here is not allowed to use these. Sean, want to show him what you brought as your vole killer?” “Standard Federation Rifle, current type three design.” He set the weapon, on Smith’s counter, safety on. “I’m fully qualified to use it otherwise I wouldn’t have access.” Baxter smiled. “Ah yes, so glad to see a Federation officer taking time to fulfill his civic duties.” Smith cataloged the weapon. “And of course you know what my son brought to zap the vermin with.” “Standard plasma bolt hunting rifle for until I reach 17,” Mark said proudly as he ‘safed’ the smaller weapon before placing it on the counter. Smith took a quick look while making a note and nodded. “And what’s in the case Mr. Winston? A surprise?” He cleared the table and Daniel pivoted a rifle case, opening it for inspection. “What in tarnation is that!?” The elderly inspector exclaimed. “Looks like some sort of home made rifle. I will not tolerate an illegal weapon….” “Mr. Smith,” Sean interrupted with haste. “It was built up on the station and thoroughly tested by several Starfleet personnel.” “So you are saying it’s a new Starfleet design?” Smith asked with extreme curiosity, lifting weapon which was in excess of a meter long out of its case. “Amazingly light for its size. But the barrel? I have not seen anything like it. It’s square the bulk of its length.” “Yes,” said Daniel. “It takes a different kind of ammunition than you are used to as well. Take a look.” Smith’s eyes nearly rolled as he lifted one of the rounds from the case. “A projectile weapon? Son, what made you even think of going back to such an ancient style of firearm. You know the disadvantages of using a projectile weapon? I won’t even mention those at long ranges.” “Yes sir,” Baxter interjected. “but we will not be one klick or even half a klick from a vole. We plan on getting much closer. Many officers on the station were curious about this project and I… agreed to sign off on it. We are Starfleet engineers, after all. We try to keep an open mind.” The ‘new’ guy smiled directly at Mr. Smith. “Uh huh” Smith answered with the most skeptical look he could possibly make. “At least you’re testing it on pests first instead of sending it to the frontlines. Projectile weapons are always limited by the amount of rounds you carry. That’s why they were phased out centuries ago. I am going to trust your CO on this one. Mr. Winston this is the largest weapon I have seen in years in the Vole Eradication Program. I will sign off on it, but I DO want a report on how it does when you return with your transmitters. Is that clear?” “Yes sir!” All three replied. “Alright. Grid 30 is yours. Remember, never remove your transmitters, and vaporize your kills! Good Luck!” As the three left the office, the elderly Mr. Smith sat in his chair muttering “Engineers...they’ll be the death of me quicker than the kids.”