Cptn Moose

Moose appreciated the thoroughness of the buffet table, even if he picked at it absentmindedly. Under any other circumstances, it would have been magnificent. Alces had outdone himself, as always. But right now, he couldn't relax enough to enjoy it. Besides, it wasn't really for him. It was for the person he was about to become. And this was at the center of his anxiety. For Christopher T. Moose, captain of a Sovereign class starship, defender of galactic injustice, and once even destroyer of a world, was a psicophobe. It had taken him years to work through the paranoia he developed over telepathic contact; the sole souvenir from a brief, but all-enveloping love affair he once had with an empathic metamorph. He had struggled to develop amazingly strong psychic defenses and to protect his mind from unwanted intrusions. And over time he realized that telepaths, like all life forms, were not inherently good or evil. Some just made bad choices. And he began to relax. But he still didn't like people in his head, and he was angry with himself over his anxiety. He felt he had come so far towards mastering his phobia. He was fooling himself. He was still damaged. "I think they're ready for you, Captain," said Alces. Moose wanted to run. The door was right there. His mind was his own and he didn't have to let anyone else touch it. No one would dare judge him over this. Except himself. Again, this wasn't about him. It was about Lo'Ami. Arphazed was in trouble and needed his help. How many times had the trill risked his life for the ship and the crew? How many sacrifices had he made simply because Moose had asked him to? How could Moose live with himself if he couldn't do this one, simple thing? Yet he faltered. Why wasn't it simple? Alces led him into the main room, where Erko was waiting to begin the process. "Are you sure you want to do this," he asked? "I'm sure," Moose said, hoping his voice did not betray his fear. The Vulcan was a slave to protocol. Moose hoped he asked all of the participants that same question with just that tone. "Then do your best to relax. My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts ..." Moose closed his eyes and waited. He waited for the familiar sensation of slipping away. He waited for the tell-tale ping of an alien touch in his head. He waited ... for nothing. Nothing happened. Why had nothing happened? Even when he wanted to, couldn't he lower his mental defenses? It was selfish of him. He had failed. He failed Lo'Ami and he had failed himself. He opened his eyes and was struck by how different the room looked. It seemed crisper, harsher than he remembered it. Nothing had changed, per se. It was like seeing it for the first time. He opened his mouth to apologize and was as surprised as anyone to hear what he actually said. "Hello, I am Ilsen Lo'Ami," said Moose as he looked around the room. He passed over Alces and his eyes locked on the other Trill standing quietly off to the side. "And you are?" "Arphazed. The new host." "Splendid," he said jovially. "And you made it to space. Look at you in your fleet blues. Science division, isn't it? Or did you become a doctor?" "No, a scientist." "I was going to be a scientist. A mathematician, actually. It was my skills in warp field dynamics that brought me to the attention of the Symbiosis Commission. But in the end, that was not the life for me." "Why not?" asked Arphazed. "I was too impatient. I didn't actually work math, I saw answers in my head. And then I had to slow down and justify my conclusions through traditional means. It was very frustrating, like constantly trying to explain how you know your shirt is blue. And then I got a little older and a little more impatient, and I suddenly realized I had a blind spot." "You couldn't see?" "No, no. In my head. I discovered that I couldn't compute asymmetrical energy flows. Even when I sat down with a computer to do the calculations, I just couldn't grasp them. And you certainly can't create a warp field that stays stable without accounting for them. At best, the field collapses. At worst, we can only guess what would happen." "But the computers compensate for those." "They do? How extraordinary. If there's time, you must tell me how you did it. Scientists were struggling to break Warp 7 back then, but I had my sights on a larger prize." He paused nostalgically, as if his memories were taking him down an unexpected road. "They all said it was theoretically impossible to go faster than Warp 10. But I saw a way ... I could feel the answer my head. I bullied and pushed to get funding for a prototype, which I built into a remote controlled shuttlecraft. But I only had one chance, and it failed. The shuttle disappeared mid-flight, as did my funding. No debris was ever found, so it must have disintegrated. But I always knew it was because I had been careless with the asymmetrical energy calculations." Moose's head turned to study Arphazed. He was still conscious inside his body, even though he had been the one speaking. He wondered how the young trill would react to this story. It sounded very familiar. "What did you do after that?" asked Arphazed. "My father became ill shortly thereafter, so I returned to the home world to run the family business. It was an Inn in the grain belt called 'The Crazy Stallion', but all the locals called it 'Ilsen's Inn-sen'. They thought it was funny." "No!" exclaimed Alces, unable to contain his surprise. "I was there once. It was a beat-up little shack with dozens of kids running around, screaming. But it had the best home-brewed ale in a dozen systems." Moose felt himself grinning uncontrollably, basking in what Ilsen must have taken as praise. "That was the place," he said. "I married my grade-school sweetheart and we had 7 kids. The eldest was a handful, he once took ..." The rest of the time was spent with stories of kids and animals and a happy time long ago. Ilsen was a good story teller, and everyone in the room got swept away in his memories, except for Erko. And all thoughts warp equations were left far, far away to be pondered another time.

The other thing I've heard is that virus protection and firewall software will sometimes interfear with the room. If you've installed either of these, try un-installing or disabling it and see what happens.

The other thing I've heard is that virus protection and firewall software will sometimes interfear with the room. If you've installed either of these, try un-installing or disabling it and see what happens.

On Stardate 10305.21, Thomas Jaruq was promoted to the rank of Full Lieutenant. Please join Cdr Dacotah and I in extending our heartiest congratulations.

Six of the refuges from the Blue Note's detainment camp disappeared en route to Starbase 36. Four of them have been found dead. The crew of the USS Arcadia has shut down the Starbase, and must find the remaining refuges while also identifying the mysterious ship that stays hidden just outside of sensor range.

Personal Log, Zar Alces - Stardate 10305.27 "Enough," he squeaked out, grasping the railing and gasping for breath. "Enough. There has to be a better way." "Are you all right Commander?" asked the concerned Marine Captain. He was tall, blond, broad shouldered and perfectly fit. Alces hated him. "I'm as good as I can be considering I left my right lung on Deck 207B. That's a joke," he gasped, stopping the man from summoning medical assistance. "Why are we doing this?" "It's a standard search pattern," said the marine. "Which works in uninhabited and closed off areas. This station is too big for this." "What would you recommed, Commander?" "Well ... let me see," he said. His breathing was starting to slow back down to almost normal. It wasn't such an effort to talk. "We started with six missing refugees. Four have been found dead. The two who are missing either whacked the other four, or are hiding from the people who did." His mind began to wander, as he assessed the various possibilites. "They must have known that sabotaging the Arcadia's transporters would only slow us down, not prevent us from arriving, so it's unlikely that they meant to stay here." "But they can't go anywhere," said the Marine. "All traffic has been halted and they can't beam anywhere while the station's shields are up." "Then we need to secure the station's shield generators. If they're trying to escape, they'll have to go through there." It seemed fairly obvious. "All right men," shouted the tall, blond, fit Marine Captain after tapping some keys on his data padd. "Let's go!" Suddenly, they started running up the stairs. "But wait," shouted Alces, staggering behind them. "Where are you going?" "To the shield generators, Sir. Deck 185." Alces quickly supressed several Tarellian curses. That was another ten decks up. Weren't there any turbolifts in this place? Zar Alces, Chief Engineer (while he lives) USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E

Well done Blu. Not only a piece of the past, but a piece of the future as well. It's going to be fun seeing where that story leads. : )

Well, it isn't exactly a fleetwide sim, but ... Arphazed Lo'Ami, Chief Science Officer of the U.S.S. Arcadia is undergoing his zhian'tara, the trill rite of passage. This is where the personalities from a Trill's former hosts emerge to teach the current host all about their collective past. We encourage everyone to browse the other posts in the special "Help Create a Character" folder, that was recently added to the Holodeck section of the message boards. Then contribute your thoughts on one of the old Trill's past lives. All STSF players are welcome and encouraged to participate.

Just pushing this to the top of the board again. Thanks everyone who participated so far. : )

Congrats on another trip around the sun.

Mission Brief, 10305.14 The Captain of the Blue Note has been defeated, and Rochelle Riker's slave trading network has been destroyed. As the Federation sifts through the rubble of her complex, the crew of the Arcadia must tend to their own physical and mental damage before new orders throw them back into the fray.

Stardate 10305.11 Zar Alces picked his was carefully through the hustle and bustle around him. The former slave compound had become very active since the Arcadia's arrival. Once the remaining personnel from the base had been rounded up, Federation Medical ships and long-range shuttles had been in constant transit. The job of dismantling the compound, tending to those who had been imprisoned, and taking them home once they were well enough, generated a lot of activity. His target was, of course, right in the middle of things. This was exactly as Alces had imagined him. As sick and as weak as he'd become, Captain Moose was not someone who sat on the sidelines and observed. He was moving slower than usual. Alces suspected that he still suffered withdrawal symptoms from the narcotics given him on the Blue Note. But that also implied that Moose would be tired, and cranky. Alces would have preferred to wait for a better moment, but time was not on his side. Knowing that he had to tread carefully, he approached his former Captain. "Shouldn't you have a bevy of yeoman running around doing things for you?" he asked gaily. "Funny, I thought you'd used up all of our bevies," answered Moose. "I'm surprised to see you here, Zar. I thought you'd booked passage on the first freighter home." "And leave without saying good-bye? Perish the thought." "That's true," conceded Moose. "Saying good-bye is one of your strong points. You last good-bye, in fact, took 45 minutes and contained words that have no translation in seventeen languages. Still, it was artful." "One of my past lives had a career on the stage. He creeps out every now and then." Alces' voice cracked slightly under Moose's scrutiny, and he grew angry at himself. He barely knew Moose, and he was eight times his age. How did this man always manage to intimidate him like that? He hoped he didn't let it show. Things were all over if he had. "But still, you helped us out in a jam," said Moose, letting him off the hook. "Marlene wasn't nearly experienced enough to bring the Arcadia back on her own. And I'm very grateful for your help. Have a safe journey home." "It's funny you say that about Marlene," said Alces mostly to Moose's back at this point. "What with Hayden's recent promotion, and Cdr Pratt's personal leave, your senior staff is a bit shy on experience." "I wouldn't say that," said Moose as he scanned the most recent status reports on the compound's dismantlement. "Dana Quest is just young, not inexperienced. And Dr. Telano has done a great deal of work in the field." "That's true," said Alces trying to maneuver around into Moose's field of vision. "But Dana is still feeling her way through Marine protocols. And Telano is a little, well, unorthodox. I know that sounds funny coming from me." "Yes it does," said Moose turning around to make eye contact. "What's your point." "It's just that you could use a little more experience ... I mean, there's only so many places they can all be at once ... I mean, youth and skill counts for a lot but age and ..." Alces paused, struggling for words. The moment seemed eternal. Finally he blurted out, "I need a job." Moose looked him up and down for another eternal moment before he spoke. "Captain," he said slowly and deliberately. "I just can't do it anymore. I only signed up for Starship duty to pay back Captain Raishel from rescuing me out of the Devil's Nebula. I lost a decade there and deserve to be part of civilization again. A ship is too confining, too isolated. I need to be free." "Certainly, you're not going to hold an impassioned moment against me." "Why?" "I was still in shock after being trapped in the nexus. I wasn't thinking clearly." "Why?" "Our last adventure made me realize how much I'm needed on the ship and ..." "Last time," Moose said abruptly. "Why?" Alces took a deep breath. "I'm having legal trouble," he confessed. "The Symbiosis Commission wants to repossess my symbiont. It wasn't scheduled for another life. Zar was forced into being a host by our crewmates in the Devil's Nebula, who were afraid of loosing Alces' knowledge base. As long as I'm serving in Starfleet, I'm outside of their jurisdiction." "I see," said Moose. "So it's either me or death?" "Well, I wouldn't exactly have phrased it like that," said Alces. "But, er ... yes." "Fine," said Moose. "Report to Cdr Dacotah. She'll get you processed." Alces was stunned. It was the answer he wanted, but it came too soon. Something wasn't right. "So that's all?" he asked. "Do I look like the type of person who would hold an impassioned moment against someone?" Moose asked. "Yes, actually. But I'm grateful nonetheless. You'll explain things to Lo'Ami?" "Explain what?" asked Moose. "Well, I know he's new to the job, but he has such promise. It's always a danger letting someone be 'Acting Chief,' you don't want to discourage them by making them feel like their loosing out if they don't get the job." "Arphazed isn't loosing anything," said Moose. "My point exactly," said Alces. "You're not Chief of Science," said Moose. "What?" said Alces, being surprised enough to let some of his temperament show. "You certainly don't expect me to work for him. It's a waste of my talents, and my experience, to be anywhere but the Chief's position." "I agree," said Moose. "I'm just not giving you his job. I'm giving you Tracy Pratt's job." Alces was momentarily speechless. "But Hayden was just assigned as First Officer," he said. "Surely you aren't going to ..." He stopped mid-sentance, realizing his own foolishness. Moose wasn't talking about the Number One position either. It slowly dawned on him what was happening. "Captain, you can't," he protested. "That's outrageous. I'm a scientist!" "Not anymore," said Moose, as he turned back to his status reports. "Now you're an Engineer." Moose/Alces/Whomever USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E

Please join Cdr Dacotah and me in congratulating Reese Hawkins on his promotion to Lt (jg) on Stardate 10305.07.

A9! How many times do I have to tell you to keep out of Van Roy's laundry room? Put the socks back. :wink:

Mission Brief, Stardate 10305.07 The abducted crew of the USS Arcadia has fought back against their captors and have taken control of the pirate ship "Blue Note". However, physical illness and injuries have taken their toll, and the crew's ability to keep the ship is in question. They must keep their enemy engaged until the Arcadia itself can come to their rescue.

Captain's Log, Stardate 10305.06 Having met with little resistance, we have managed to take control of the Blue Note. This is fortunate, since most of us have been drugged or beaten. There are still scattered pockets of resistance, the most obvious being their bridge crew. But Ensign Black managed to secure a secondary Operations Center, and most major ship functions can now be controlled by us. Our victory so far is due largely to the fact that my cousin, Tom, and his daughter, Rochelle, have left the ship. I am impressed by how efficiently they're running this vessel on a skeleton crew, but they are definitely the catalyst that holds everything together. We never would have been able to take advantage of Quest's sabotage efforts had they remained onboard. Still, their crew is brutal and viscous, and are not to be underestimated. They still pose a threat to us, especially in our weakened conditions. We need to neutralize them quickly. But then what? The Blue Note is damaged and no longer capable of warp. Ziggy Stardust has been taken to the surface, where he will no doubt join other Federation captives in their labor camp. Perhaps even Kelly and Marty are with him? Depending on the condition of the captives, we may be able to mount some sort of ground resistance, but we have no way of knowing what type of resources our foes have at their disposal. A fighter squadron could potentially be on it's way right now to retake this vessel. Or they could simply be waiting for their "surface to orbit" defenses to warm up. Soon we will loose the element of surprise. Trapped on board a crippled ship, we will soon become prey once again. The best we can hope for is to keep our opponents busy until Alces and Zukko can return with the Arcadia. If we keep the action confined to this planet, then they may have a chance of rescuing what survivors are left. That is providing the Arcadia comes at all ... Cptn Moose USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E

USS ARCADIA, NCC-1742-E Crew Information > > Authorized Personnel Only =============================== Name: Moose, Christopher T. Rank: Captain Race: Human Planet of Origin: Earth Sex: Male Age: 45 Height: 5' 9" Weight: 160 lbs. ===== ===== Moose is an only child who was born on Earth in 2336. He was raised single-handedly by his mother and never knew his father. He was born in Alaska where he lived with his aunt, her husband and their only child, Moose's cousin Bill. Moose's uncle was a civilian strategist who assisted Starfleet with various situations and spent a lot of time off planet. When Moose's aunt died in 2337, he and his mother moved to Midwest America. Moose graduated from North American University in 2357, where he studied Logistics and Computer Science. His mother wanted him to join Spacefleet immediately after graduation, just like his cousin Bill had done. Instead, Moose accepted a position with the Earth office of the Astral V Historical Society. He supervised the clerical staff in the development of their catalog of acquisitions, and developed a love of alien culture and archeology. For years, his mother continued to regale him with stories of his cousin's adventures in space. He was constantly subjected to "Bill rescued the colonists on Nervala IV," and "Bill got a free trip to Betazed," and "Bill was asked to be Captain of the USS Drake, but he turned them down." Finally, Moose had enough of Earth. He entered Starfleet Academy on Stardate 9409.11. At the academy, Moose became an apprentice of Professor T'Cher, who trained Moose in the Vulcan mental defense disciplines. A brief and painful affair with an empathic metamorph had left Moose with a vehement distrust of telepathic abilities. He was determined never to fall prey to them again. T'Cher did not normally take on non-Vulcan disciples, but thought Moose showed an amazing aptitude, "For a human." Moose graduated Starfleet Academy on Stardate 9410.02 with a major in Alien Psychology, and a minor in Military Strategy. He was posted immediately on board the USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-C, where he quickly rose to the position of Chief of Security. Early in his career, Moose was relieved of duty by a covert Starfleet Intelligence Operative, for organizing a mutiny against the Captain and First Officer. After breaking out of jail and seizing the bridge in an armed attack, Moose was able to obtain evidence that the Arcadia's command staff had been compromised by the same parasites that had previously infested Spacefleet Command. All charges were dropped. While assigned to dispose of the debris from the destruction of the USS Enterprise, Moose kept a damaged shuttle in orbit around Veridian III long enough for the rest of its crew to beam out. His attempt to then land the shuttle was not as successful. He sustained serious injuries from the crash and still has a scar near his left eyebrow. Moose was once called upon to give the order by which the entire planet Jania VII was destroyed. The Janians had developed into a telepathic collective whose influence could reach light years beyond their system. The essence of Ronan, the Janian chancellor, had infused itself in Moose's mind. Moose became one with the Jania and understood how easily they could assimilate the galaxy. Understanding that quarantine would be ineffective in containing the Jania to their home world, Moose did what was necessary to protect the Federation. On several occasions, the crew of the Arcadia encountered duplicate beings from a mirror universe. Moose led an intelligence mission to infiltrate the ISS Arcadia. While returning to the USS Arcadia, dimensional interference from the other ship caused the transporter to create a duplicate copy of Moose. One Moose seemed to retain the harsh paranoia that had developed through his career. The other Moose was more stable emotionally. Feeling caught up in the political / military regime of the fleet, he determined to renew his interest in alien cultures which had first brought him into space. He left his duties on board the Arcadia to his duplicate and returned to the Astral V Historical Society. The other Moose was promoted to First Officer, and ultimately became Captain of the Arcadia. A psionic amplifier from the ISS Arcadia had given him telepathic abilities, which almost drove him insane as he attempted to deal with them. Later, he was devolved to infancy in a biological experiment. When he was re-evolved to adulthood, his body returned to its normal state as determined by his DNA. He was in perfect physical shape and the scar from Veridian III was gone, but so were his psychic abilities. Captain Moose went on to thwart the testing of the "Revelation Device" in Federation space. This weapon destroyed all traces of life within it detonation wave, and was created by a governing body known as "The Coalition." Coalition space is three months past Romulan space, at maximum warp, in the far reaches of the Beta Quadrant. Believing the Coalition to be a greater threat than anyone imagined, Captain Moose accepted a position as the first Federation Ambassador to Paktar, capital planet of Coalition space. Coalition data is highly classified. Other than an encrypted request to be named legal guardian of Dana Quest's cousin David, who stowed away with him to Paktar, nothing has been heard from Ambassador Moose in months. After the commissioning of the Sovereign class Arcadia-E, Moose emerged from his retirement at the Astral V Historical Society to accept his own posting as Captain of the Arcadia. > >

Why Zel, whatever do you mean? I think you have me confused with Ambassador Moose. ::o:

Thank you Randy. They should be very helpful.

Quest and Zukko crippled the Blue Note, so the crew effects their escape. One group has assembled in the ship's medical bay, where they try to learn all the can about their foes. Another group has taken control of the armory and a secondary Ops console. Meanwhile NPC's Zukko and Alces have stolen a shuttle in an attempt to return the warp core to the Arcadia, and Lassie is trying to rescue Timmy, who's fallen down the well.

What? You wanted him to stop having them? Happy Birthday GromVik, and many more. :wink:

The crew of the USS Arcadia has been taken captive by the crew of the pirate vessel 'Blue Note'. They are in orbit around an uncharted planet where Federation citizens are imprisoned and forced to perform manual labor. Due to the efforts of Marine Lt Col Quest and Engineer Marlene Zukko, the Blue Note has been sabotaged. There are hull breeches around the ship, artificial gravity has failed, power supplies are on minimum. Is this the Arcadia's chance to escape?

Congratulations GromVik. Welcome to the fold.

Captain's Log, Stardate 10304.28 The green woman's hands were velvety smooth as they gently kneaded the muscles on his back. "Poor thing," she murmured. "Poor, poor thing. Tell me your troubles." He opened his mouth to speak, but only a soft moan escaped. He tried to tell her. He tried to control the muscles of his mouth to form the words, but he couldn't speak. His back felt so good. His whole body felt good. Her hands began to vibrate, and this caused tingles up and down his spine. Of course she could vibrate, he thought. She was an Orion slave woman. Her talents were legendary. Moose had never felt so relaxed. He felt as if his body was floating. She was an Orion slave woman, he thought. That can't be right. Wasn't there something he had to do about slaves? He had to talk to her, but the more he tried the harder it actually was to move. He tried to call out to her, but the words choked in his throat. The harder he forced them out, the less sound escaped his lips. His eyes snapped open and Moose discovered that he actually was floating. He was on a strange ship. There was no gravity. His stomach suddenly cramped in a way he hadn't thought possible and he heaved violently, caught up in spasms of space sickness. He lay there floating while he waited for the pain to subside. He hadn't ever been this sick, not even during his first zero-g simulation. But the longer he floated, the more he began to remember. This wasn't space sickness. They had given him some injection. This was a narcotic withdrawal. The realization made him heave again, and he twisted, weightless in his agony. The pain seemed worse this time, and he knew it would continue to get worse. How much of that drug had they given him? Or was it designed to develop a quick addiction? He had underestimated his captors, but who ever expected anyone to be this sadistic? Slowly, between spasms, he took in his situation. He was unrestrained and no one was guarding him. There was no gravity and power seemed minimal. Something had happened to this ship. Perhaps the crew of the Arcadia was responsible. This may be their attempt at escape. Or, he may have been the only captive. He wasn't sure, but he knew that he couldn't waste this opportunity. Desperately, he tried to focus. He moved slowly at first, careful not to move too quickly lest he trigger another spasm. Ill as he was, he had an opportunity to escape. No matter how small the chance, it was one he had to exploit. Cptn Moose USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E

Well, I'll be ... You don't look any older than on the day I met you. :wink: Happy Birthday Fred. Moosethusela