From: 96906700afk@nene.ac.uk
Date: Wed, 26 Mar 1997 18:06:57 +0000 (GMT)
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: O'Graeach comes on board
SD 90326.1500
The Vice Admirals door closed behind him and Oz allowed himself to lean
agains the wall.  His legs felt like something made of jelly, and his
hands were shaking so badly that he had to put his leathery bag down and
take a few deep breaths.
	20 minutes later he had finally calmed down enought to make his
way to the docking bay.  The distance, easily crossed in ten minutes, took
him the better part of half an hour.  There was no need to be too eager.
Eagerness had landed him in the brig right after reporting to Jokinen, so
he wouldn't make that mistake twice.
	The CHESAPEAKE was docked, and there were three modes of access.
The transporter room, by shuttle, and by using the access tubes.  The
transporter was out, instantly.  He hated to think what might happen.  How
was he to know that all his parts would be re-assembled ?  In the right
place ?  He had spent far too much time keeping his bits and pieces
together to risk losing them by being disassembled into tiny particles and
spread across the universe.
	So he decided to go for the shuttle.  He liked flying, although it
was not his favourite past-time.  But flying was something he enjoyed.  He
was not afraid of hights, which helped.  He knew it wasn't hights that
killed you.  It was grounds.
	"Please fill out these forms and show me your piloting license.",
the woman in charge of the shuttle pool said.
	"Excuse me ?", Oz said perplexed.  "I'm the Helmsman of the USS
CHESAPEAKE.  I'm going to fly that big thing out there.  Of course I can
fly a little thing like that shuttle."
	"I am sorry, but rules are rules.  I can't let you have that
shuttle without proof of ID, piloting license, and those filled out
forms.", she said apologetically.
	O'Graeach glanced through the forms on the PADD she'd given him.
"You can't be serious.  Do I have any heart problems - I can understand
that.  Sight problems - yes, fair enough, you'd want to know that before
you rent out a shuttle.  But PILES ???"
	"Standard Starfleet regulations.", she replied.
	"Oh, Sod it !", he sighted and handed the PADD back.  "I'll just
walk.  It's gonna be faster than filling out that form.  38 pages, hah !"
********************************************************************
Time: 4.43 hours later
Place: Somewhere in a Jeffreys tube
	This tube looked familiar.  Ozwald was sure he had been here
before.  Then again, everything looked the same from where he was
standing.  Whoever had designed those Jeffrey tubes had probably been a
lab rat, obsessed with mazes.
	He came across another two exits.  Maybe if he took the left now -
no, he had definitly been here.  He could tell.  It was the empty paper of
his sandwich which, rolled into a tiny ball, was lying on the ground.  He
really wished he had spent more time revising the plans of important
starships.
	Theoretically he should have found an exit ages ago.  He ducked
and crawled through another narrow passageway.  He squeezed his way
through a tight, greasy slot and stood in front of a ventilation shaft.
At least, that was what it looked like.  It was a big silver pipe, about
150 cm high, and it lead somewhere.  He could hear something from the far
end.  So he followed it.  It was dark in here.  Very dark.  Edging his
forwards he began to doubt his decision.  Maybe he should go back...It was
dark in here...There were probably big rats and nasty things just waiting
for him round the next corner...And the Bogey Man...And a ho
							    o
							     o
							      o
							       o
								l
								 e.
	One moment he had been walking, the next the pipe made an
unexpected turn downwards, and he was freefalling.  Not for long, just a
few seconds, then the pipe twisted again, bouncing him around until he
landed in something soft, squishy, and very bad smelling.
	*Don't tell me I've ended up in the bowels of the ship.*, he
thought while going through his bag, looking for matches.  He lit one and
surveyed the area.  The floor was covered by some disgusting looking
things.  He did not even want to know what they were.
	A strange, rumbling sound appeared behind him.  He turned and
cursed as the flame reached his fingers.  Needlessly to say, he dropped
the match.  Fumbling he relit another one, only to face a tunnel opening
filled halfway with water.  Which, incidentially, was rushing towards him.
	Years of practice in not-dying had led to amazing reflexes.
Before his brain could think *Oh Shit !* his legs had taken control, spun
him around and send him scuttering away from the water.  His run lasted
for two seconds, then the water had reached him and, together with a lot
of solid things, washed him away.
	It ended in some kind of basin.  Oz dimly remembered that every
ship had a recycling centre where the water was recycled and all those
solid wasteproducts such as the half-eaten bowl of wriggly Klingon worms
or the mouldy strawberries were used for other purposes.  If he remembered
correctly, the bio lab, plant division, made fertilizer out of stuff like
this.
	He shook his head, wiped a piece of lettuce from his eyebrow and
began to climb the nearest ladder.  There was a door.  A proper door !  He
tried it, and lo and behold, it worked !
	He raised an eyebrow.  "Well, I made it.  And I'm still alive.
Amazing.", he said to no-one in particular and headed off, following the
yellow lines on the wall.  He had no idea what the color coding meant, so
he just followed the yellow brick road.  Or the equivalent to a road.  Or
brick, come to that.
	Spotting two crewmembers he approached them.  "'xcuse, me,", he
said, dripping water, his uniform covered in garbage, and exuding a bad
stench.  "I'm looking for the Officer of the Watch.  Where'd I find him ?
Or her.  Or it ?"
	The two crewmembers exchanged glances, then pointed towards the
turbo-lift.  "Try the bridge.", one of them said.
	"Thanks.", Oz nodded and trotted off.
****************************************************************
Scene: Bridge
	The doors slid aside and Oz, still wet and smelly, stepped on the
bridge.  "Hi.  Ens. Ozwald O'Graeach, reporting for duty.  Sorry it took 
so long, I got lost somewhere on the way. Oh - permission to come on board
?"
NRPG:
Amy:  One (semi)fresh helmsman reporting for duty :)
Michael: Glad to see you again.
All: Hiya everybody !!!  Glad to be on board
PS: What's a Chesapeake ?
Yours,
Fabian Alexander
96906700afk@nene.ac.uk
Ens. Ozwald O'Graeach, USS CHESAPEAKE, Helm/Nav
"Fate always wins.  At least when people stick to the rules."

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