<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=""><span class="" style="font-family: Georgia;">Mission: Murder on the Exeter Express</span><br class="" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="" style="font-family: Georgia;">Day:03</span><br class="" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="" style="font-family: Georgia;">Stardate: 2554:12:03</span><br class="" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br class="" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="" style="font-family: Georgia;">(USS Exeter – Officer’s Quarters Bathroom – Medical Officer, Ensign JG Heinrich Kruse, M.D. – 0953)</span><div class=""><span class="" style="font-family: Georgia;"><br class=""></span></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">~One, two, three, four, five…~ Heinrich was brushing his teeth after a long night. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. As soon as he entered his quarters his adrenaline dropped and all that had gone on began to hit him. He saved a life. Didn’t have a chance on at least two others. No one told him he’d be thrown straight into an emergency his first week on the job. Maybe Starfleet life was a lot more like the stories than he thought.</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">~Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty…~ Just then his comlink went off. "Vespers to Dr Kruze.” ~Aw, great.~ Heinrich thought to himself as he spat out his toothpaste. He annoyingly smacked his badge. “Dr. Kruze here.”</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">"Ensign report to Sickbay at 1600, you're due your physical and it would be an idea to actually meet you.” Heinrich sighed, he would have preferred to have a little more time to rest. </font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">He tapped his badge. “Understood, I’ll see you promptly at 1600.”</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">(USS Exeter – Sickbay </font><span style="font-family: Georgia;" class="">–</span><font face="Georgia" class=""> CMO Office – Medical Officer, Ensign JG Heinrich Kruse, M.D. – 1603)</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">Heinrich rushed through Sickbay. After a horrible night’s sleep he had blown through his alarm. He told himself, as everyone does, that he would still have ample time to get ready. But on his fourth day on the Exeter he still had no sense of distance and time. Barreling his way through Sickbay he arrived at the CMO’s office, hoping Dr. Vespers was not the sort to be too particular about time. He stopped, straightened the top of his uniform, tried to style his hair in place, and walked into the office as if he wasn’t late.</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">“Doctor Vespers, I presume? I’m here for my physical.”</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">(Reply Vespers)</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class="">(Posted by Tim)</font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div><div class=""><font face="Georgia" class=""><br class=""></font></div></body></html>