From The Slightly Off-Centered

Center Seat

Commodore Pam Michaud,

Commanding Officer

Each year since 2005, the USS Ronald E.

McNair extends an invitation to the SFI chapters

in North and South Carolina to join the McNair in

a miniature golf challenge. We hold this event at

Frankie’s Fun Park located in Columbia, South

Carolina.

Trophies are awarded for first and second

places scores; the lowest score is awarded First

Place. This year’s challenge was held Sunday,

15 April 2012.

Attending from the USS Star League were Jana

Sandarg and Carnell and Peggy Eubanks.

Representing the McNair was Maxwell Michaud

(our youngest member), Barbara Lariscy, DJ

Powers and Pam Michaud.

First Place went to Carnell Eubanks. There was

a tie for second place between Jana Sandarg

and Barbara Lariscy.

From left to right clockwise: Maxwell Michaud, Barbara

Lariscy, DJ Powers, Jana Sandarg, Carnell Eubanks and

Peggy Eubanks.

The Counselor’s Couch

Commodore Barbara Lariscy,

Chief Counselor, Region One

Thanks to everyone who has

sent thoughts and prayers my way. This has

been a most difficult time. I never expected to

lose a sibling already especially since all my

siblings are younger than me. This all happened

so fast, my brother was diagnosed with cancer

April 26 and died May 24. It was so quick and

fast that I barely had time to accept that he was

sick before he was gone.

I still find it hard to believe he is gone.

Luckily I had always have made a practice of

leaving nothing unsaid to those I love. I loved my

brother very much and miss him greatly. I am so

grateful to my McNair family for your love and

concern. You have been a wonderful support. I

appreciate Gary for doing this newsletter for me.

I have just been unable to focus on anything for

a while.

I guess my first nugget of wisdom to you all is to

cherish those you love and leave nothing

unspoken between you for you never know how

much time you have with them. My second

nugget of wisdom is that just being there for your

friends in difficult times is a wonderful gift. Even

if you don't know what to say just being there

brings more comfort than you know. Lastly,

never be afraid to reach out to give a kind word

or do a small thing, You have no idea how much

it means in a difficult time.

The official publication of the USS Ronald E. McNair, a chapter of STARFLEET,

The International Star Trek Fan Association which is a 501(c)(3) not-for-profit

charity, based in Columbia, South Carolina.

“Semper Fi!”

Marine Unit Introduction

First Lieutenant Kapact, 151st MSG

Officer in Charge

The USS McNair's Marine Strike Group (MSG),

the 151st "Wolves of the Stars", is a Maritime

Unit.

What does that mean? It is Maritime Operations

because when I joined the Starfleet Marine Corp

(Reserve), that was my chosen Branch. As

tactical officer, and as someone interested in

how starships work, especially in a combat-

oriented, tactical environment, a course of study

in the Maritime field was ideal for me. That

doesn't mean that any other marines in the unit

serve in that branch. They serve in whatever

branch suits their interest.

The "Wolves of the Stars" are officially the

151st, Fifth Battalion, First Brigade (151st

MSG/5BN/1BDE). Our motto is "The Arsenal of

Freedom" (not inspired the TNG episode) which

sums up our overall mission, which is to use

military force when necessary to safeguard

freedom for citizens of the Federation. Our

slogan is "The best defense..." which is not only

our aim, but also alludes to the concept that the

best defense is a strong offense.

There are many members of the

151st, but few actively

participating members. Those

include:

1LT Mark “Kapact” Tyler, Officer

in Charge (OIC) (Me), MGEN

Gary “Tiny” Hollifield, Jr., Deputy Officer in

Charge (DOIC), 2LT Jeffrey “Huggies” Hughes,

Master Gunnery Sergeant James “Fireball”

Maarsinghm, Non-Commissioned Officer in

Charge (NCOIC). If it sounds unusual to have a

1LT OIC in technical command over a MGEN

DOIC, it is. The position of OIC in this case is

mine because Gary joined us after the unit was

formed. It means that the 151st has the best

support team in the Corps.

The 151st "Wolves of the Stars" is first a

foremost a part of the McNair crew. Our duty is

to serve the Captain and crew.

If you want to know more about the

STARFLEET Marine Corps, always feel free to

visit their website at www.sfi-sfmc.org.

CompOps Checking In

Admiral Victor Swindell,

Chief of Computer Operations

Stardate 89526.11

Department size: 2 Department Activity 1) Worked on Web Site - Posting APS reviews on Site - Changing Front page when necessary - Enhancing site where necessary 2) Active in RDC Program - Posting Info in Facebook group 3) Work on creating New SFA Computer Science courses - I’m looking to add at least 30 new courses after I finish this round of Doctor Who courses. 4) Looking for ways keep department busy.

STARFLEET Special Operations

Commodore Pam Michaud,

ADU Team Leader

The McNair has a Special Operations Unit. It is

an Intelligence Unit, was formed October 2011,

and has six members. Our Unit designation

number is ADU 51. 51 was chosen since the

Challenger mission Ronald McNair was a part of

was STS-51L We are M7 (“Thundercats”).

The STARFLEET Special Operations is a

Department of STARFLEET International, the

International Star Trek Fan Association. We are

part of the STARFLEET Holodeck program,

which is under the command of the Vice

Commander of STARFLEET.

Our goal is to provide each member of

STARFLEET with a one on one experience by

allowing him to take on the persona of an elite

STARFLEET Special Operations soldier. He

can do this by taking STARFLEET Academy or

STARFLEET Marine Corp Academy tests that

allow him to follow one of five career tracks

within the SFSO. He can either be a Ranger,

SEAL, Recon Specialist, Intelligence Officer, or

a Support Services Officer.

STARFLEET Intelligence’s primary function is

collecting and analyzing information about

foreign governments, corporations, and

individuals which is used to advise Starfleet

policy makers. The agency conducts covert

operations, paramilitary actions, and exerts

foreign political influence through its special

activities division.

In addition to using covert agents to gather it's

information, Starfleet Intelligence also gets it

information from the SFSO Rangers, the

SEALS, and Force Recon teams. This

information is pored over and passed down to

the combat forces so they can plan their space

and ground battles. They have the secondary

functions of sabotage, anti-sabotage, demolition

and evacuation measures, subversion and

assistance to underground resistance

movements, guerrillas, and refugee liberation

movements.

It is recommended that anyone wishing to join

the Intelligence department take classes in the

following schools of the SFA and SFMCA:

School of Espionage, History, Insurgent Studies,

Intelligence Gathering, Intelligence Technology,

from the College of Intelligence Operations, and

the College of Cryptography. If the Intelligence

officer wishes further training, he can take the

following courses from the SFMCA: Support

Basic, Support Advanced, Combat Service

Information Command OIC Course, and Military

Intelligence OIC course from the Support Branch

and the Special Operations Branch.

Want to know more? Visit http://acad.sfi.org or

www.sfmca.sfi-sfmc.org today!

The Tactical Position

Lieutenant junior grade Mark Tyler,

Chief Tactical Officer

The end of June and the start of July marks the

seventh anniversary of Operation Red Wings. I

was going to give my own tactical analysis of the

events, but instead I will recommend the book

"Lone Survivor" by Marcus Luttrell (ISBN

9780316067591) and submit this summary from

the U.S. Navy Website. To my mind it speaks far

more eloquently than I could.

http://www.navy.mil/moh/

mpmurphy/soa.html

Operation Red Wings

June 28, 2005

On June 28, 2005, deep

behind enemy lines east

of Asadabad in the Hindu

Kush of Afghanistan, a

very committed four-man

Navy SEAL team was

conducting a

reconnaissance mission

at the unforgiving altitude

of approximately 10,000 feet. The SEALs, Lt.

Michael Murphy, Gunner’s Mate 2nd Class

(SEAL) Danny Dietz, Sonar Technician 2nd

Class (SEAL) Matthew Axelson and Hospital

Corpsman 2nd Class (SEAL) Marcus Luttrell

had a vital task. The four SEALs were scouting

Ahmad Shah – a terrorist in his mid-30s who

grew up in the adjacent mountains just to the

south.

Under the assumed name Muhammad Ismail,

Shah led a guerrilla group known to locals as the

"Mountain Tigers" that had aligned with the

Taliban and other militant groups close to the

Pakistani border. The SEAL mission was

compromised when the team was spotted by

local nationals, who presumably reported its

presence and location to the Taliban.

A fierce firefight erupted between the four

SEALs and a much larger enemy force of more

than 50 anti-coalition militia. The enemy had the

SEALs outnumbered. They also had terrain

advantage. They launched a well-organized,

three-sided attack on the SEALs. The firefight

continued relentlessly as the overwhelming

militia forced the team deeper into a ravine.

Trying to reach safety, the four men, now each

wounded, began bounding down the mountain's

steep sides, making leaps of 20 to 30 feet.

Approximately 45 minutes into the fight, pinned

down by overwhelming forces, Dietz, the

communications petty officer,

sought open air to place a

distress call back to the base.

But before he could, he was

shot in the hand, the blast

shattering his thumb.

Despite the intensity of the

firefight and suffering grave

gunshot wounds himself,

Murphy is credited with risking

his own life to save the lives of

his teammates. Murphy, intent

on making contact with

headquarters, but realizing this

would be impossible in the extreme terrain

where they were fighting, unhesitatingly and with

complete disregard for his own life moved into

the open, where he could gain a better position

to transmit a call to get help for his men.

Moving away from the protective mountain

rocks, he knowingly exposed himself to

increased enemy gunfire. This deliberate and

heroic act deprived him of cover and made him

a target for the enemy. While continuing to be

fired upon, Murphy made contact with the SOF

Quick Reaction Force at Bagram Air Base and

requested assistance. He calmly provided his

unit’s location and the size of the enemy force

while requesting immediate support for his team.

At one point he was shot in the back causing

him to drop the transmitter. Murphy picked it

back up, completed the call and continued firing

at the enemy who was closing in. Severely

Despite the intensity of

the firefight and suffering

grave gunshot wounds

himself, Murphy is

credited with risking his

own life to save the lives

of his teammates.

wounded, Lt. Murphy returned to his cover

position with his men and continued the battle.

An MH-47 Chinook helicopter, with eight

additional SEALs and eight Army Night Stalkers

aboard, was sent is as part of an extraction

mission to pull out the four embattled SEALs.

The MH-47 was escorted by heavily-armored,

Army attack helicopters. Entering a hot combat

zone, attack helicopters are used initially to

neutralize the enemy and make it safer for the

lightly-armored, personnel-transport helicopter to

insert.

The heavy weight of the attack helicopters

slowed the formation’s advance prompting the

MH-47 to outrun their armored escort. They

knew the tremendous risk going into an active

enemy area in

daylight, without their

attack support, and

without the cover of

night. Risk would, of

course, be minimized if

they put the helicopter

down in a safe zone.

But knowing that their warrior brothers were

shot, surrounded and severely wounded, the

rescue team opted to directly enter the

oncoming battle in hopes of landing on brutally

hazardous terrain.

As the Chinook raced to the battle, a rocket-

propelled grenade struck the helicopter, killing

all 16 men aboard.

On the ground and nearly out of ammunition, the

four SEALs, Murphy, Luttrell, Dietz and Axelson,

continued the fight. By the end of the two-hour

gunfight that careened through the hills and over

cliffs, Murphy, Axelson and Dietz had been

killed. An estimated 35 Taliban were also dead.

The fourth SEAL, Luttrell, was blasted over a

ridge by a rocket propelled grenade and was

knocked unconscious. Regaining consciousness

some time later, Luttrell managed to escape –

badly injured – and slowly crawl away down the

side of a cliff. Dehydrated, with a bullet wound to

one leg, shrapnel embedded in both legs, three

vertebrae cracked; the situation for Luttrell was

grim. Rescue helicopters were sent in, but he

was too weak and injured to make contact.

Traveling seven miles on foot he evaded the

enemy for nearly a day. Gratefully, local

nationals came to his aid, carrying him to a

nearby village where they kept him for three

days. The Taliban came to the village several

times demanding that Luttrell be turned over to

them. The villagers refused. One of the villagers

made his way to a Marine outpost with a note

from Luttrell, and U.S. forces launched a

massive operation that rescued him from enemy

territory on July 2.

By his undaunted courage, intrepid fighting spirit

and inspirational devotion to his men in the face

of certain death, Lt. Murphy was able to relay

the position of his unit, an act that ultimately led

to the rescue of Luttrell and the recovery of the

remains of the three who were killed in the

battle.

U.S. Navy SEALs are the maritime component

of U.S. Special Operations Command and the

Navy’s special operations force. The SEALs

take their name from the elements in which they

operate – sea, air and land. Experts in special

reconnaissance and direct action missions –

SEALs continue to successfully execute DoD’s

most important warfighting missions in the

GWOT.

For more information on Naval Special Warfare

visit: www.seal.navy.mil

Commissioning Ceremony of

the USS Potomac

Fleet Captain Stephen Stott,

Executive Officer

Stardate 201204.01: Fleet

Captain Stott reporting. I received a message

from my commander, Commodore Michaud, to

report to the USS Potomac to serve as the

region one representative and flag officer

presiding over the commissioning of the USS

Potomac, captained by Captain Hayden Segel. I

looked forward to the opportunity since I had

been serving as the liaison officer from the

McNair since I am currently assigned on duty in

that sector of space. After acknowledging the

orders I took my private runabout to the

Potomac’s coordinates.

Upon arriving at the ship I was greeted with a

warm welcome by Captain Segel and escorted

to their recreation lounge. The Potomac, even

though she is an Excelsior class vessel, has

been upgraded with the latest technology which

includes the most state of the art holodeck

technology. Captain Segel takes full advantage

of this capability. He ran an interesting holo

program that converted the recreation lounge to

look like a townhouse in the 21st century earth

period in an area known as Alexandria, Virginia.

The townhome looked wonderful and added to a

very comfortable atmosphere for the event. As I

entered the home I was introduced to the other

senior members of the ship present. These

personnel included Lieutenant Colonel Derek

Brockheimer, Lieutenant Commander Tamara

Metz, Lieutenant Tiffany Segel (the Captain’s

lady), Lieutenant Junior Grade David Maxwell,

Lieutenant Junior Grade Annette Bleecker,

Ensign LaRae Littleton, Mr. Ken Bleecker, and

Ms. Olivia Maxwell. The ship’s mascot, Eggie,

was also present. Hey everyone needs a

mascot. Picard had his fish.

Following the introductions we engaged in

conversation in everything ranging from the

current situations in the Federation to future

endeavors for the crew of the Potomac.

Lieutenant Segel was a wonderful hostess. She

arranged for the event to be something called a

“pot-luck dinner” where members and invited

guest bought various foods and delicacies from

their native home worlds. There was even some

blood wine on hand. A very good vintage if I do

say so myself. After much eating and socializing

we waited for the arrival of the ship’s security

officer who served as our master of ceremonies

for the main event. We then changed into our

uniforms since the dinner and social period

called for 21st century style clothing. After

changing into our uniforms I, along with Captain

Segel and his first officer, were piped into the

main area by the security officer. We then read

the orders of commissioned and I instructed

Captain Segel to take charge of his ship. I then

made a few comments wishing the crew well on

their journey and assured them that they would

represent Region One and Starfleet International

with honor and dignity commensurate with the

expectations of the fleet. Upon acknowledging

command and commission of the vessel we took

photos and ended the session. I then returned

in my shuttle back to my quarters. As I am

temporarily assigned in this sector of space I let

Captain Segel know that I will be visiting his ship

and offering assistance from time to time. I look

forward to observing the adventures and

accomplishments of the crew of the Potomac

and wish them God’s speed on their journey.

End of log.

Green Girls Just Got It!

Convention After Action Report

Ensign Elise Mason,

Associate Chief of Computer

Operations

Ensign Mason here! I've been asked to report on

my recent journey to Atlanta TrekTrax, a fairly

new convention in Atlanta.

It was, in a word, awesome.

Though I couldn't travel with XO Stott again this

year (who's experience I sorely missed), I was

able to con, ahem, convince my three sisters to

come along and together we took first place in

the Trekkies Got Talent Show and second in just

about everything else.

*bragging much?*

I was also lucky enough to be allowed to work

the registration table this year, an experience I

hope to repeat.

We had the honor of witnessing the Klingon

wedding of Mort'xx tai jol'neS (Christopher

Jones) and J'Tar tai jol'neS (Tina Kubala)

Saturday night at TrekTrax Atlanta and being

present when they announced the formation of

House jol'neS within the Klingon Assault Group.

Also while I'm at it…congratulations to Keela

sutai-Septaric (Leila McMichael), Legate of the

Imperial Xeno-Legion of the Klingon Assault

Group (KAG) on her victory as Miss Klingon

Empire 2012! (if you couldn't tell this con was

officially endorsed by KAG and therefore VERY

dangerous for a young officer like myself! Have

you ever ridden in an elevator full of Klingons??)

Once again Captain Eric Watts and the USS

Republic put together a really great con, with a

little bit of something for everyone :-)

Also in attendance was XO Donna Smith Parker

from the USS Maquis and a representative of

STI had a fanbooth there as well (though I'm

sorry to say, I didn't catch his name so I can't

credit him here).

Training and Doctrine

Command Sends Their Best

Regards

Major General Gary Hollifield, Jr.,

Commanding Officer, TRACOM

“Semper Eruditio, Semper Docens”

Kinda neat, huh? Its Latin and it means “Always

Learning, Always Teaching” which, in my short

time as COTRACOM (both acting and official)

has become my personal motto for Training and

Doctrine Command. I am always learning

something new pretty much every day, and to an

extent, I teach something to my shipmates or

fellow Marines on a daily basis too. I am sure if

you sat back and thought about it for a second,

you would realize you do as well. It doesn’t need

to be some fundamental, life-changing thing like

teaching physics or quantitative theory to

someone; it can be as simple as telling a friend

where to click the mouse on a software program

to get to a shortcut or learning a word in a

different language (curse words don’t count!).

I really don’t have any numbers to report since

my last “by the numbers” was only two weeks

ago, but I do have something I wish to cover in-

depth: course request and grading turn-around

times. Please keep in mind as you read the next

few paragraphs (and please read them) that we

are all volunteers who all thoroughly enjoy what

we do. However, and I have come to have a

stigma about this myself from certain corners,

real life can jump up and slap us in the face.

Have a little patience when dealing with

directors and directors need to have the same

patience when dealing with students. We give

you ten weeks to complete an exam; allow us at

least 48 hours to grade the exam.

Now, on to the official verbiage (as taken from

the 2010 TRACOM Policies and Procedures

Manual):

To request a course from the SFMCA, go to the

TRACOM website at sfmca.sfi-sfmc.org and

follow the links to the Academy and the

“Academy Schools” page to request the desired

course. If a Marine does not have access to a

computer with Internet access, they can request

the courses directly from the School/Branch

Director at their snail mail address above. A

hard copy of the Manual for that course can also

be requested from the Director and the Student

will be required to pay the cost of

printing/copying and mailing the Manual to the

Marine as requested. In order to take a course,

the student must complete the prerequisites for

that course prior to submitting the course

request. PD-10 (Marine Basic Training) is

required before any student can request any

other course from the SFMCA.

A Marine will have ten (10) weeks to

complete the course and return it as

instructed for grading. Failure to meet

this ten (10) week deadline will

require the student to re-request the

course and begin the process

anew. If a time extension is

required, the Student should

make contact with the Branch

Director concerned.

***Each Marine may

request only one test

from each of the various

Branches/Academies/Schools within

TRACOM at any one time, and the practice of

requesting/taking more than one test at a

time, regardless of Branch, is strongly

discouraged by TRACOM.*** The reasoning

behind this is that a Marine may not be able to

devote the proper time and effort required by

each course to pass it in a timely fashion and

with a strong score due to unforeseen problems;

for instance, the test may be more difficult than

originally thought by the Marine and would

require his full attention.

When a Marine returns tests, the appropriate

staff member scores them. The grading scale is:

70%-95% Passing

96%-99% Honors

100%+ Distinction

The pertinent Branch Director, except in cases

where the exam has been proctored by another

TRACOM staff member, in the case of all –10/-

20 level courses, will grade tests for their

particular Branch. The only person(s) authorized

to score a particular –10/-20 level course is the

Branch Director for that Branch or a person who

is proctoring the course as explained below.

COTRACOM and DCOTRACOM are authorized

to score the exams of any Branch if the Branch

Director is going to be away for extended

periods or has other difficulties that prevent

them from fulfilling their role in this manner.

The –30 level tests will be graded by the

pertinent Branch Director if they have also

passed their Branches –30 course; if the

Branch Director has not passed their

particular -30 level courses, the topic

will be approved (and the paper will

be scored) by COTRACOM or

DCOTRACOM, depending upon

availability.

A Marine who does not

pass a course will be

permitted to retake the

course, but must wait a

minimum of six (6)

months before requesting

a retake of the course. The Branch Director will

make every effort to help the student as much

as possible without giving the answers; there will

not be a FAIL entered into the database. The

student and director must keep accurate records

as to when the six month timeframe has passed.

Whenever possible, Branch and Course Directors are charged with honoring course requests and grading returned courses within 48-72 hours of receipt. This is what is considered an acceptable service and is the goal for all TRACOM directors. Naturally this is not always possible however, particularly when personnel attend regional/Fleet events or are away on vacation. If a school needs to be closed or will be slow in responding for a time, this will be announced on the Corps-l mailing list. If a Marine has a question regarding a long delay in a course request being honored or results being entered into the database, it is expected that the Marine will contact the course director first to determine if it is simply that the person has been

unexpectedly unable to perform these duties (computer problem, family emergency, illness, etc.). If the course director does not answer, or is not able to solve the problem quickly, their next point of contact is the DCOTRACOM. If there is still no resolution, they should then contact the COTRACOM. Every effort will be made by TRACOM staff to get the test out to the requesting Marine at a maximum of within one week of the request– but ideally, within the time frame listed previously should apply (48 to 72 hours from receipt). In this same vein, every effort is made to get the scores to the Marine within a maximum of one week of their submission. It is recognized however, that all TRACOM staff members are volunteers and may have other problems or commitments in their personal lives that prevent them from meeting this goal. End passage. So now, you have hopefully learned something you mayn’t have known before. Please remember the Academy is here for your enjoyment, a possibility of learning something new about real life (PD and LD come to mind), or maybe even something about this show we’ve all seen parts and pieces of called…what is the name?...oh yeah, Star Trek. Next month’s State of Address will have July’s graduates and more by the numbers. If you ever have any questions, my door, like those of all of your General Staff, is always open. Our individual email addresses can be located on the main SFMC website. Until next time… “Semper Eruditio, Semper Docens!” The Chaplain’s Chat Lieutenant junior grade Mark Tyler, Ship’s Chaplain The current contentious (and sure to get worse) political debate is a stark reminder of just how divided we can become in this country. It isn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. As intelligent, caring and informed citizens, we all have ideas and opinions as to what is best for ourselves, our families and our country. All of these are equally valid, but sometimes they are

going to clash. I'd just like to say that I am very impressed (and grateful :) ) that we allow our friendship and strong sense of family to see past the differences that some of us have. It is natural for intelligent people to sometimes disagree, but just as Star Trek celebrates Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, we as a family and crew tolerate and celebrate the unique perspectives that combine to form the best crew in the fleet. By the way, I am learning this job as I go along. I strive to pass along messages of inspiration and motivation without imposing any specific faith or belief, because that is simply far too personal a thing to push on others, and it is also not part of my job. I will be happy to privately discuss my beliefs with anyone who wants to, and I am eager to learn others' beliefs, should you care to share them. I am also here if you would like to share any problems or concerns. You can of course count on my complete discretion. Please feel free to email me at abukoff@gmail.com.

Foubar vs. the Dust Bunnies

Senior Chief Petty Officer Larry

Kirby,

Chief of Engineering

“I will kill him,” Master

Chief Petty Officer Paul Blake said, fire in his

eyes and the sound of planets exploding in his

voice. “I will rip his head off and stuff tribbles

down his neck!” He missed the slight shudder

from Klingon Ambassador Kapac. “I will stuff

anti-matter up his arse and let the Good Doctor

give him a colonoscopy…by remote…with a fire

hose…”

“Ooof’ said the Doctor Munib, grinning.

“What has Foubar done now?” sighed

Captain Michaud.

“His mere presence on this plane of

existence is an affront to everyone who has ever

worn a uniform,” the Chief stated, visibly trying

to control his temper.

“That does not seem logical,” First

Officer Stott replied. The Vulcan had never

gotten used to the Chief’s hyperbole.

“Sir,” Blake replied, “somewhere the

bones of a Phoenician sailor are spinning in his

watery grave at the mere notion that someone

such as Foubar exists.”

The Captain had ordered Blake to

attend the morning staff meeting to explain why

the transfer of the residual Genesis planet

material recently collected and bound for the

Vulcan Science Academy had caused a hazmat

alert in the transporter room. The gray haired

CPO (who rumor had it once served under

Christopher Pike on the original Enterprise) had

reported that the hapless crewman had

misprogramned the transporter co-ordinates

(again!) and had reassembled the material’s

container three millimeters into the deck,

causing a rather violent explosion and violating

the material’s containment field.

“Unfortunately,” Blake returned to his

report, “Foubar, as usual, came out of the fiasco

without a scratch. The containment field

ruptured, there was dust from the Genesis

material everywhere. I think we got everything

decontaminated.” He shook his head. “We

irradiated the transporter room and shoved

Foubar in a sonic wash. Instruments didn’t pick

up anything, but…please, Captain, just a short

EVA skyclad?”

“:Sorry, Chief”, the Captain replied,

suppressing a smile with some effort. The Chief

did not handle stupidity very well and Foubar’s

stupidity was legendary throughout human

space and in parts of the Romulan and Klingon

empires. “His father is still a captain and his

grandfather is still an admiral. Assign him to

something nice and safe.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the Chief sighed. “I wish

he were Klingon.”

“How would that make a difference?” the

Vulcan asked.

“We would have killed him long ago,”

the Klingon Ambassador muttered. Blake

grinned and nodded at the Klingon.

“There is something to be said for being

allowed to pound some sense into certain

people,” the Chief said, looking at the Captain

hopefully, who shook her head, not without

some reluctance. “Alright,” the Chief muttered.

“I guess I can assign him to count the dust

bunnies in cargo hold three. We haven’t had

anything there in several months. Even Foubar

shouldn’t be able to mess up an empty cargo

hold.”

“Don’t bet on it,” the Klingon replied.

Horatio Nelson Foubar IV was not a

happy camper. The Chief, who blamed him for

everything that had gone wrong all the way back

to the Romulan War, had assigned him to

research the effect of warp drive movement on

dust bunnies. With a straight face, the Chief had

informed him that even a nanoscopic shift in

internal ship’s mass could be dangerous during

emergency maneuvers at high warp unless said

movements could be calculated by the ship’s

computer. Foubar’s assignment was to choose

several respectable sized collections of dust and

record their movements over a ten hour period.

He had started to protest, but had not wanted to

incur the wrath of Blake, which he considered far

worse that any wrath Kahn had ever managed to

come up with.

Selecting a suitable ball of dust, Foubar

kneeled down to take his first readings. Dust

particles in the air made his eyes water. He felt

a sneeze coming on..He tried to stifle it, but

failed, the force of the sneeze knocking him

backwards to the floor.

A microscopic particle of the late,

unlamented Genesis planet, lodged in the nose

of the crewman, exploded

outward with the force of the

sneeze, squarely impacting

the dust bunny. Processes

much to small to be seen

went into motion. Needing

more material to work with,

the dust ball rolled slowly

around the room, merging

with other balls and being

dutifully recorded by the

crewman until his shift was

over. It took another twenty

hours before the first signs of life were

detectable.

The Klingon Ambassador was returning

from a fine workout in the holosuite where he

had used his favorite bat’lev to dismember the

simulations of five Romulans, three Orions, an

earth grizzly bear and his mother-in-law, the last

of whom, he had to admit, had put up quite a

fight. He was due in Chief Blake’s quarters in 30

minutes where, for the 7th time, he and the Chief

were planning on watching “The Alamo,” a film

of an old Earth battle where the badly

outnumbered defenders had died fighting to the

last man. Very Klingonish.

“Intruder alert!” the voice of Security

Chief Nickerson came over the intercom.

“Intruder alert! Cargo Bay Three! Security to

cargo bay three!” Realizing he was on the same

level as the Cargo Bay, the Klingon set off at a

dead run, swinging the bat’lev to a right shoulder

stance.

The Ambassador was almost at the

cargo bay door when it blew outward and the

strangest thing he ever saw came boiling out of

the bay. Dirty brown, eight feet tall, with long

fangs and talons, glowing red eyes, huge back

feet…and floppy ears?

The creature roared at him and charged.

The Klingon did a forward roll under slashing

paws, then leapt into the air and went for a

beheading slash as the monster spun around.

The blade sliced the thing’s neck with ease, but

the detached head promptly rejoined the body.

A huge paw swiped at

the Klingon, catching

him a glancing blow as

he back rolled away to

regroup. Three shallow

slashes ruined the gi his

father had given him

right before his current

assignment. He

became perturbed.

He began a

fighting retreat down the

corridor as the monster continued to attack.

Repeatedly he disarmed (and dispawed) the

creature with his blade, only to see them

instantaneously reattach. It seemed hopeless.

He grinned ferociously. Just the type of fight he

liked.

Nickerson came stampeding down the

corridor behind him with a full complement of

security personnel. Barked orders set up a

double staggered skirmish line and the fire order

was given. The smell of burning…dust?...filled

the air but the thing keep coming, albeit

somewhat slower.

“What the hell is that?” Nickerson

shouted over the whine of phasers. A couple of

well-aimed shots put out the creature’s eyes, but

they began glowing again almost immediately.

“It looks like Bun-Bun on a bender!”

“Now THAT’S new,” the Science Officer

Rust said calmly, having come up behind the

group. She aimed a scanner at the creature. “It

seems to be made up of dust.” She studied a

readout. “There is a miniscule particle of the

Genesis planet imbedded within the creature.”

“Well, that’s just ducky,” Nickerson

retorted, then shouted out a fire and fall back by

line order. “How do we kill it?”

“Perhaps we could

communicate with it,” the

Science Officer responded

doubtfully. “This would be

a great scientific

opportunity.

“’Communicate with it?’” the Klingon

retorted. “Let’s kill it then talk about it behind its

back.”

Foubar had not gotten into trouble for

almost a full day now and was beginning to feel

a little cocky. Then he heard the Intruder Alert

call for Cargo Bay Three.

“Great” he groaned to himself. “I bet the

Chief will figure out some way to blame that on

me.” His duty station for an Intruder Alert was

the engine room so he ran for the door to his

room, not realizing the sensor had tripped out

when he had sent a power surge through his

room’s circuitry while playing with his electronic

dinosaurs. He slammed into the unresponsive

door and knocked himself unconscious. His

temporary serenity was gone.

“Status!” the Captain demanded over

her communicator. She had been monitoring

the slowly retreating crewmembers battling

the…whatever it was…over the ship’s internal

sensors and was not thrilled with what she was

seeing. Though there were no reported

casualties or ship damage yet, the creature was

forcing it’s tormentors back towards the

hydroponic gardens where dozens of

irreplaceable exotic plants were housed,

including a bonsai tree Admiral Sulu had given

her when she had assumed her first command.

“Things have been better,” Nickerson

replied. “We have hit this thing with everything

but a bucket of spit and nothing has had any

effect.”

“Captain,” the Science Officer

interjected. “There is another problem.”

“Besides the monster trying to eat my

crew?” the Captain grimaced.

“Affirmative,” the Science Officer replied.

“This thing has apparently been brought to life

by a minute particle of the Genesis planet.”

“Captain,” First Officer Stott stated, from his

position at her side. “You will recall the ultimate

fate of the planet.”

“Lovely,” the Captain muttered to

herself. “Ideas, people, I need ideas.” She

wanted to go down there and see the situation

for herself, but her place was on the bridge. She

was no James T. Kirk, she trusted her crew.

“Ideas, people, I need ideas.” The

Science Officer heard the Captain as she

thought furiously. “We have to get the thing off

the ship,’ she muttered to herself. She retreated

another few steps as the phaser grunts kept up

a furious fire and fall back barrage against the

thing. “out of the ship, out of the ship, out of

the…” Brainstorm!. She pulled up a ship

schematic on her corder. “Oh, this is nuts,” she

thought. “Completely nuts.” She slapped at her

com badge.

“Blake!” she yelled for the Chief.

“Yeah,” came the reply. The Chief was

not always a modal of military courtesy.

“Can you McGyver us up something that

will kill the inertial dampening field on a ten foot

square section of the ship’s interior?” A split

second of silence.. She could almost hear the

wheels turning.

‘What in the name of General Hampton,”

the Chief thought to himself. “Uh, yeah,” he

replied thoughtfully. “I guess I could bastardize

a medical stasis field, trigger it remotely…but

ma’am if I did that and the ship changed course

even slightly anything in the affected area would

shoot through the ship’s hull like sh…” he

stopped. He thought. Then he grinned. “Lee!”

He yelled at his most reliable greenstick

mechanic. The blond woman looked up from

her screen. “Grab your purse and meet me in

medical!” The Chief took off on a dead run, Lee,

pausing only to grab her favorite tool pouch,

right behind him.

“Our Science Officer has lost her mind,”

the Captain stated, quite reasonably, she

thought. She was studying a schematic of the

ship on the main screen, the firefight, thankfully

near the top of the ship, indicated in red.

“Navigator,” she said, “prepare to drop five klicks

Galactic South on my command.” Punching the

ship wide com button on her chair she ordered,

“evacuate sections 23, 47 and 81.

Damage control, prepare for hull

breach upper aft over section 81.”

“Gimme the magratch,” the

Chief muttered; Lee had it in her

hand before he had finished asking.

A disemboweled bio stasis bed lay

scattered around them. “Hey, Doc,

you got any coffee?”

“You don’t drink coffee,

Chief,” the Doctor replied.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

The Chief handed his assistant a

sonic screwdriver. “Get the…good.

Love working with mind readers”

“Light reading” Lee grinned, ignoring the

dark look from the Chief. The Doctor sighed.

Different people relieved stress in different ways.

A crewman had been slashed by the

monster. Blood seeped from his shirt and

spattered the floor. “Sick bay,” the Security

Chief ordered.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” the crewman

grimaced. Wiping a bloody hand on his pants he

gripped his phaser. “I can fight.”

“Yes, you can,” Nickerson stated. “But it

isn’t necessary. We have sufficient forces to

contain the monster.”

“But, ma’am,” the crewman said

miserably…

“Sickbay! Now!” the Security Chief

bellowed. “Starfleet has too much money

invested in you to have you bleed to death in a

corridor. Move!” The crewman left reluctantly,

handing his phaser to the outstretched hand of

the Klingon.

‘We really must fight these people

someday,’ the Ambassador thought admiringly.

‘They will make excellent opponents.’ He

inserted himself in the line and began blasting

the creature joyfully.

Foubar came to

consciousness slowly, groaning.

He stood up, wavered, took a step

backwards, tripped over one of his

dinosaurs, cracked his head on a

bedside table and was out again

before he hit the floor.

“Ready!” yelled Blake over

the comm..

“Transporter,” the Science

Officer tapped her own badge.

“Lock on to the device in sick bay

and prepare intraship transport to

these co-ordinates on my order. Captain…”

“Ready,” the Captain replied. “When we

get the indication the creature is in the stasis

field we’ll duck the ship.”

“Alrighty then,” Rust said. She took a

deep breath.

“Fire team, fall back! Transporter, now!”

A whine filled the corridor above that of the

phasers. The two components of the jury rigged

stasis field materialized on either side of the

monster. There was an imperceptible

movement of the ship and the creature shot up

through the ceiling like a bat out of hell. A triple

bang was followed by the howling of escaping

air, then it stopped.

Dead silence.

“Sum it up,” Captain Michaud said two hours

later in her ready room.

“Hull breach under repair, damage control says

four hours,” the Security Chief said. “Damage to

the three sections will be fixed within 12 hours.”

“Doctor?” the Captain glanced at the Medical

Officer.

“One casualty,” the Doctor replied. “Moderate

blood loss, no serious danger. I’ll keep him

overnight just to keep him quiet.”

“We dodged a bullet,” the Captain said. “Good

work, Science, you too Chief.” Both nodded.

“Now,” the Captain sighed. “I guess we know

who is responsible for this cluster…this mess.

Chief?”

“EVA?” the Chief asked hopefully. The Captain

shook her head, with even more reluctance than

before.

“Isn’t there anything on the ship he can do that

won’t cause a major catastrophe?”

“I have an idea,’ the

Ambassador Kapac said. He

grinned. A Klingon grin was

not a pleasant sight.

Foubar was back in Cargo Bay Three. He had

swept the entire bay of dust. Now, in the

interests of interstellar diplomacy, he was

constructing a gift for the Klingon Emperor: a

scale model of the Battle of the Alamo. The

Chief had thoughtfully replicated him the needed

parts of the fort and the assorted troops

involved. Foubar estimated there were about

12,000 parts. All of which the Chief wanted

individually painted.

He calculated he might be through in time for the

heat death of the universe.

Who ya gonna call?

Official Points of Contact for Chapter Officers

Commodore Pamela Michaud

Commanding Officer

pan_gia@hotmail.com

Fleet Captain Stephen Stott

Executive Officer

sgmstott@yahoo.com

Admiral Victor Swindell

Second Officer/Chief of CompOps

vswindell@gmail.com

Major General Gary Hollifield, Jr.

Chief of Operations

startrek.gary@gmail.com

Commodore Barbara Lariscy

Chief of Communications/Counselor

shadowkeeper56@aol.com

Lieutenant (jg) Mark Tyler

Chief of Tactical/MSG OIC/The Padre

abukoff@gmail.com

Captain DJ Powers

Chief of Medical Operations

theroadmage@comcast.net

Lieutenant Sandi Rust

Chief Science Officer

feo2mouse@yahoo.com

Rear Admiral Debbie Butcher

Chapter Historian

justmedebbieb2006@yahoo.com

Second Lieutenant Jeffrey Hughes

Chief of Security

j2huggies@yahoo.com

Senior Chief Petty Officer Larry Kirby

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