<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div class=""><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class="">NRPG: First post, let me know if I forgot something.</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><div class=""><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><br class=""></span></div>Mission: Murder on the Exeter Express</span><br style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><br style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class="">Day: 3</span><br style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><br style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class="">Stardate: 2445.12.o3</span><br style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><br style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class="">(USS Exeter – Sickbay – Medical Officer, Ensign JG Heinrich Kruse, M.D. – 0021)</span><div class=""><span style="font-family: georgia, serif;" class=""><br class=""></span></div><div class=""><font face="georgia, serif" class="">~I hate working nights,~ Heinrich thought to himself. ~The hours feel longer, and you need two times the sleep to recover.~ Heinrich was resting in his makeshift office doing record keeping. He had just joined the Exeter, and while his degree meant he couldn’t be made to change the bedpans, he could be made to do data entry. He took a swig of his lukewarm coffee as Nurse Drake approached.</font></div><div class=""><font face="georgia, serif" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">"Alright Bambi, I've got a job for you.” Heinrich turned to Nurse Drake. He hated being called Bambi. “I’m ready to serve ma’am.”</div></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br class=""></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">"Captain Called for a medical team. So you and me, lets go. Unless you aren't up to the challenge.” Heinrich smarted. Not up to the challenge? Why else join Starfleet? “Anything to put off this data entry,” he said with a smile.</div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br class=""></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><div class="gmail_default">"Saddle up then, and grab a med kit. Holodeck 3, I assume you know the way.” </div><div class="gmail_default"><br class=""></div><div class="gmail_default">“Alright!” Heinrich said as he stood up. He, of course, didn’t know the way. He’d only arrived on the Exeter three days ago. But he was a man with pride, and he wasn’t going to suggest he didn’t know where something is. If Nurse Drake wasn’t going to tell him he’d read the signs. And if that didn’t work he’d find a private place to ask the computer. </div><div class="gmail_default"><br class=""></div><div class="gmail_default">Heinrich walked to the wall where the medical kits were kept. He opened it up to check its contents. When he saw it was all in order he closed the lid. “Alright, let’s go.” He walked up to the door and stopped, motioning with his hand, “ladies first.”</div><div class="gmail_default"><br class=""></div><div class="gmail_default">(reply Drake)</div></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">(Posted by Tim)</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><br class=""></div></body></html>