From: JoGoodman2@aol.com
Sent: Friday, 11 June 2004 7:27 AM
To: spectre-nrpg@freedom-squadron.com
Cc: compiles@freedom-squadron.com
Subject: Spectre Compile May 24-31 (pt 2)
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(/USS Lion - ACEO Peabody- Bridge/-1040) 

/^Lion/, /Newton /-- Captain responding. I would think our purpose is 
obvious: someone is planning on altering the timeline. Fluctuations have 
already begun to propogate, Admiral, and we don't have much time. You 
are to make no mention of this ship whatsoever, Peabody. No logs, no 
nothing. Have I made myself understood?^ 

Peabody signaled to mute the channel, something he had been trained 
early on in his life in command. He turned to Kevel. "Suggestions?" 
The former Rear Admiral, then Commander shrugged his shoulders. "We 
have little options at this point. We need to the information they can 
supply, but it is clear they intend to stop whatever it is we plan to 
do. They're not from this Federation, that much I know. Otherwise we'd 
be clouds of dust and underground by now. I honestly don't know what to 
expect from them. We've managed to one up them with our detecting of 
thier tracker device, so we have a leg up there. We're going to have to 
deal with them, sooner or later." 

Walter nodded. There wasn't much choice. He nodded to communications. 
The channel was open. 

"Captain...you have my word and my crews word that there will be no 
mention of your timeship in logs or anything else." The 'Doc leaned 
back in his chair, considering his next few words. "What we have is a 
collision of ideas. I would like to suggest a meeting of us, the Apollo 
and the Galadrial to try and understand what is happening here. We do 
not wish to harm or destroy your timeline in any way and simply want to 
go home, where we belong. I would need assurances that a repeat of the 
earlier actions against the Apollo and the Lion would not be repeated, 
for us to even consider thinking about such an idea..." 

He motioned for the mute and Kevel gave him an approving look. "The art 
of diplomacy." Walter chuckeld. "Or the art of flying by the seat of 
your pants." 

(reply Newton Timeship, any) 
(posted by Adelay) 

(Reply Peabody) 
(Posted by Lenox) 

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(USS Spectre, Bridge, FO Octan, 18:00) 
Octan stood on the bridge, trying to make sense of his life. He knew that something was wrong. He seemed to have two sets of memories, similar, yet diverse. 
In one, he was on the Spectre as Science Officer, having been sent there by Ro Kaelyn, he now knew, to further her plans for Bajoran freedom. How he fit into her scheme, he wasn't exactly sure, his memories of that timeline still fuzzy and mostly 'borrowed' from what he knew now. 
In the other, he was First Officer of the Spectre, again through Ro Kaelyn's design, yet it was less sinister and more 'normal'. It even felt more 'right'. 
But Octan knew it wasn't. Even though his fate seemed inextricably linked with the Spectre, he knew only one of his recent experiences was meant to be. What's worse, he knew which one and he wasn't sure that it was the one he wanted it to be. 
He glanced around the bridge. It seemed so familiar to him, yet not. It seemed like he belonged there, but he knew he didn't. Not as First Officer, not yet. 
He needed to find out why he was 'here' and how to get back, because he knew that, no matter what, his old life needed to be restored. 
What bothered him was that he didn't know how he knew. Octan was uncertain and he didn't like it. One name stood out though - one name that came to prominence in both universes - Doenitz. 
Somehow, Doenitz was the key. The problem would be getting to him, but maybe being FO of the Spectre would help. 
"Computer, please display the location of Admiral Doenitz," Octan asked and looked down at the screen in front of him. 
Smiling, he turned to the CONN. "Set a course for these co-ordinates," he ordered, hoping the Ro wouldn't be too upset. 
"Warp 5". 
Time to get some answers. 
(Reply from none) 
(Posted by Arnaud Malherbe) 
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