<div dir="auto">Grazie mi piace.... </div><div class="gmail_extra"><br><div class="gmail_quote">Il 4 feb 2018 1:02 AM, "Com. Dewey Finn" <<a href="mailto:dewey_finn@crepuscolo.it">dewey_finn@crepuscolo.it</a>> ha scritto:<br type="attribution"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex">
  
    
  
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    <p>Ce l'ho piccolo, ma sportivo<br>
    </p>
    <br>
    <div class="m_-5429180100946464024moz-cite-prefix">Il 03/02/2018 18:48, illu ha scritto:<br>
    </div>
    <blockquote type="cite">
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          <div>io lo sapevo che doveva succedere...<br>
          </div>
          occhei, su. tute e barattoli alla mano che per dipingere una
          grande nave ci vuole un grande pennello (e non è escluso che
          Finn ce l'abbia... visto il successo...)<br>
          <br>
        </div>
        Massimiliano aka illu aka Carelli<br>
      </div>
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        <div class="gmail_quote">Il giorno 3 febbraio 2018 15:29, Cmdr.
          Arjian Kenar <span dir="ltr"><<a href="mailto:arjiankenar@gmail.com" target="_blank">arjiankenar@gmail.com</a>></span>
          ha scritto:<br>
          <blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex">
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              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Con imperdonabile ritardo,
                  ahimè, ma non mollo ...<br>
                  Ecco il mio contributo:</span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>=============================</span><br style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">
                <span style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">Titolo: </span><span style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">05.01 Rockstar,
                  soubrette e sommergibili rosa</span><br>
                <span style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">Precedente:
                  -<br>
                  <span style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">Autore:
                    Michele/Kenar</span><br style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">
                  <span style="font-variant-ligatures:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;text-align:start;text-decoration-style:initial;text-decoration-color:initial;word-spacing:0px">=============================</span><span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>***
                  USS Seatiger,
                  Infermeria<br>
                  12/01/2395, Ore 09:10 – D.S. 72031.19 ***<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Si
                  può rivestire.”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Quindi
                  sono abile e
                  arruolato?” Chiese ironicamente il trill riprendendo
                  l’uniforme appoggiata ai
                  piedi del biolettino.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Nutriva
                  ancora una
                  qualche speranza di essere riformato!?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Riformato
                  no, ma magari
                  un prepensionamento<span>  </span>… non mi
                  dispiacerebbe rilassarmi e viaggiare un po’, suppongo
                  che in questo universo ci
                  siano tante bellezze da scoprire …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Se
                  non sapessi che sono
                  stati i Profetti a decidere di ‘lasciarci a piedi’,
                  potrei quasi credere che
                  sia stato lei a implorarli di lasciarci qua…” <span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“E
                  lei che ne sa!? Mica
                  c’era … magari l’ho fatto veramente … ” Commentò Kenar
                  aggiustandosi la giubba
                  dell’uniforme.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span><span> </span>“Se
                  proprio ci tiene,” disse Bruce
                  distogliendo lo sguardo dal D-padd su cui stava
                  studiando i dati delle
                  scansioni biometriche del capitano “ci riporti il
                  prima possibile a casa … una
                  volta trovata la strada, può sempre tornare indietro
                  con un runabout e godersi
                  tutta l’inospitalità di questo mondo…”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Be’,
                  magari fino ad
                  adesso siamo solo stati sfortunati e il meglio deve
                  ancora venire …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Bruce
                  prese il tricorder
                  medico e scansionò il Trill.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Perché
                  mi sta nuovamente
                  analizzando? Non mi ha detto che era tutto apposto?!”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Considerando
                  che c’è ben
                  poco di cui essere allegri, preferisco sincerarmi che
                  la sua euforia non sia un
                  effetto collaterale della cura a cui vi sto e mi sto
                  sottoponendo … però, no …
                  tutto sembra nella norma … anche i livelli delle
                  endorfine … quindi non capisco
                  …” <span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Doc,
                  cercavo solo di sdrammatizzare
                  …” Lo rassicurò Kenar “dov’è finito il suo senso dello
                  humor?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Mai
                  avuto! Sono un
                  medico, non un comico…e comunque, non trovo il lato
                  umoristico nell’essere
                  dispersi non si sa dove …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Ok,
                  ok” Il trill alzò le
                  mani in segno di arresa “vedo che non c’è verso di
                  sdrammatizzare … tornando a
                  noi, per quanto dovremo rimanere in osservazione?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“La
                  terapia antinaniti
                  deve essere seguita per almeno altre due settimane,
                  per sicurezza …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Quindi
                  ci potrebbe
                  essere il rischio che qualche nanita borg sopravviva e
                  magari rimanga dormiente
                  nei meandri del nostro organismo, magari pronto a
                  riprendere il programma di
                  assimilazione?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Tenderei
                  ad escluderlo,
                  ma il fatto di essere stati così dannatamente
                  fortunati a poterli riprogrammare
                  per invertire il processo di assimilazione non deve
                  farci abbassare la
                  guardia…sono pur sempre degli aggeggi fin troppo
                  letali… Preferisco continuare
                  a tenere l’equipaggio sotto osservazione, almeno fino
                  a quando non avrò
                  l’assoluta certezza che non ve ne siano più in giro. E
                  ora mi faccia andare che
                  ho gli altri ufficiali da visitare, e io non sono uno
                  e trino …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Uno
                  e trino!?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Dimenticavo,
                  lei è un
                  trill … è un modo di dire terrestre … è un po’ come
                  dire che non ho il dono
                  dell’ubiquità …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Allora
                  mi consenta un’ultima
                  domanda, dottor Bruce e poi la lascio ai suoi compiti
                  …</span><span lang="EN-GB">
                  Lawtoein … è pronto per prendere servizio?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Deve
                  sostenere gli esami
                  psicoattitudinali … e poi sarà tutto suo, sempre che
                  riesca a passarli …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Perché
                  non dovrebbe?!”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Mah,
                  prima è rimasto
                  intrappolato nel Nexus … ora in questa specie di uovo
                  borg, insomma sembra
                  proprio che non riesca a starsene lontano dai guai …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Be’,
                  io non penso che …”
                  Kenar provò invano ad obiettare qualcosa, ma fu subito
                  interrotto. Ormai
                  l’ufficiale medico era partito per la tangente ed era
                  inarrestabile …<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“E
                  poi … con tutte quelle
                  piume addosso … non ci bastava la rockstar, ora
                  abbiamo anche la soubrette …
                  che dice, vogliamo anche dipingere la Seatiger di
                  rosa?!”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Bruce,
                  resosi conto di
                  aver esagerato e vedendo che Kenar lo stava fissando
                  con sguardo severo,
                  estrasse nuovamente il tricorder medico e cominciò ad
                  analizzarsi.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Comincio
                  veramente a
                  pensare che questa cura abbia veramente degli effetti
                  collaterali...”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Tranquillo
                  dottore, neanche il sarcasmo non è una malattia …
                  magari è un po’ stanco…” E avviandosi verso
                  l’uscita, aggiunse prima di varcare la soglia
                  dell’infermeria “Si prenda anche
                  lei un po’ di riposo, Doc … ne ha bisogno ...” <span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span><span> </span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">*** USS Seatiger, Ufficio
                  del Capitano</span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">12/01/2395, Ore 10:55 – D.S.
                  72031.39 ***</span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Kenar
                  stava visionando i
                  ruolini di servizio di alcuni membri dell’equipaggio,
                  seduto sulla sua
                  scrivania, quando il segnale acustico risuonò
                  all’interno del suo ufficio.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Prese
                  ancora un veloce
                  sorso dalla sua tazza di caffè ancora fumante e la
                  ripoggiò, quindi rispose.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Avanti.”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Le
                  porte si aprirono con
                  un leggero sibilo e due ufficiali varcarono la soglia
                  dirigendosi verso il trill.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Ci
                  voleva vedere,
                  signore?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Sì,
                  Tkar …” Rispose
                  Kenar facendo cenno a lui e ad Anari di accomodarsi
                  sulle due sedie posizionate
                  davanti alla sua scrivania “vorrei esporvi un’idea
                  prima di presentarla
                  ufficialmente al prossimo brifieng degli ufficiali
                  superiori…”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“C’è
                  qualche problema col
                  Signor Finn?” Chiese preoccupata Anari.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Il
                  Signor Finn?! Be’
                  ammetto che ha una dote innata per generarli, però no
                  … stavolta non c’entra
                  nulla. Il motivo per cui vi ho chiamati è che stavo
                  pensando ad una riorganizzazione
                  della squadra di comando e mi occorrerebbe una vostra
                  opinione …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Qualcosa
                  non va?” <span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“No,
                  Tkar … sono molto
                  soddisfatto del vostro operato, quindi no, non sto
                  pensando di sostituire
                  nessuno … pensavo piuttosto ad un ampliamento della
                  squadra di comando che
                  possa alleggerirvi di alcuni compiti e permettervi di
                  focalizzarvi su altri più
                  strategici per la situazione particolare in cui ci
                  troviamo … continuando a
                  supportare Finn nell’espletamento delle sue funzioni.
                  Ad esempio, lei Anari …
                  preferirei che mettesse su una squadra e si
                  concentrasse sullo studio dei dati
                  che abbiamo raccolto dalla USS Indefatigable per
                  trovare una strada che ci
                  permetta di tornare nel nostro universo, per questo
                  affiderei le mansioni – per
                  così dire – di routine ad un’ufficiale di sua fiducia
                  … magari al suo vice …
                  che ne pensa?” <span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Con
                  tutto il rispetto,
                  signore, in quanto denobulana sa che ho bisogno di
                  poco riposo per notte,
                  quindi penso di poter gestire anche dell’altro, ma se
                  ritiene sia meglio per la
                  nave ridistribuire gli incarichi, non si sono
                  problemi. Continuerò a fare il
                  mio lavoro con la stessa passione ed entusiasmo e …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Non
                  ho dubbi a riguardo…”
                  La interruppe Kenar, cercando di contenere la
                  prolissità di Anari “Ma che mi
                  dice del suo vice? Condivide la mia scelta?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Assolutamente
                  si. Mi
                  permetta invece di aggiungere un bit per quanto
                  riguarda Finn, penso che se la
                  stia cavand … Certo, affronta le problematiche a modo
                  suo, ma ha più volte
                  dimostrato di essere all’altezza della situazione…”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Si,
                  concordo … ma la
                  strada per farne un ottimo primo ufficiale è ancora
                  lunga…” Precisò Kenar,
                  sorridendole.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Vedrà
                  che la stupirà…” <span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Be’,
                  mi lasci dire che è
                  da quando è salito a bordo che mi stupisce ... però
                  si, ha ragione … ce la sta
                  mettendo tutta per essere all’altezza della
                  situazione, a modo suo … ma lo sta
                  facendo. Tornando a noi, per quanto riguarda lei, Tkar
                  vorrei alleggerirla
                  dell’interim della Sicurezza, magari affidandone la
                  responsabilità al suo vice,
                  il Tenente Yamada… in questo modo lei potrebbe
                  concentrarsi sulle questioni
                  tattiche della nave e lavorare in sinergia con il
                  Tenente Comandante Anari …”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Lo
                  trovo logico. Si
                  ricorderà certamente che sono stato io stesso a
                  segnalarle il Tenente Yamada
                  per il ruolo di vice capo SEC/TAC, quindi non posso
                  che condividere la sua
                  scelta …”<span>  </span><span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Bene.
                  Non voglio
                  trattenervi oltre… buon lavoro. In libertà!”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>I
                  due si alzarono, ma
                  mentre Tkar si stava dirigendo verso l’uscita, Anari
                  indugiò davanti a Kenar.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Vuole
                  aggiungere
                  qualcosa, comandante.” Chiese il trill notando che il
                  volto della
                  denobulava<span>  </span>si era leggermente gonfiato.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Finn
                  è un ottimo
                  ufficiale, signore!”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Lo
                  credo anche io …” la
                  rassicurò Kenar “lo credo anche io, ora può andare.”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Anari
                  si diresse quindi
                  verso l’uscita raggiungendo Tkar e insieme lasciarono
                  l’ufficio del Capitano.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Finn,
                  Finn … “pensò tra
                  se il trill “ma cosa le fa lei <span> </span>alle
                  denobulane?!?”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Quindi
                  attivò il
                  comunicatore.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Kenar
                  a Finn.”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Nessuna
                  risposta.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Kenar
                  a Finn.”<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Dopo
                  qualche secondo
                  finalmente la comunicazione si aprì.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>=^=
                  Ehm, ehm … qui Dewey.
                  =^=<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“La
                  disturbo, Dewey?”
                  Chiese ironicamente Kenar.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>=^=
                  Sì, ehm … no, certo
                  che no signore… =^=<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>“Convochi
                  gli ufficiali
                  superiori per un briefing in sala tattica subito dopo
                  pranzo …convochi anche i
                  vice responsabili della sezione scientifica e della
                  sezione sicurezza… e …” ma
                  non riuscì a completare la sua richiesta.<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>=^=
                  Procedo. Dewey,
                  chiudo. =^=<span></span></span></p>
              <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:105%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span>Finn
                  lo aveva appena
                  lasciato con un palmo di naso, ma Kenar decise che non
                  voleva sapere in quali
                  faccende fosse affaccendato il suo primo ufficiale,
                  così prese nuovamente la
                  sua tazza di caffè e il D-padd che stava consultando e
                  si andò ad accomodare
                  sulla sua poltrona cercando di non pensarci.<span></span></span></p>
              ==========================
              <div>END OF TRANSMISSION</div>
              <div>==========================<span class="m_-5429180100946464024HOEnZb"><font color="#888888"><br clear="all">
                    <div><br>
                    </div>
                    -- <br>
                    <div class="m_-5429180100946464024m_-1548585667459179060gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature">==============================<wbr>===========<br>
                      OOOO<br>
                      Capt. Arjan Kenar<br>
                      Commanding Officer  USS Seatiger NCC-72733<br>
                      ICQ Combadge: 126295405<br>
                      Private comunicator: <a href="mailto:arjiankenar@gmail.com" target="_blank">arjiankenar@gmail.com</a><br>
                      <a href="http://starfleetitaly.it/seatiger" target="_blank">http://starfleetitaly.it/seati<wbr>ger</a><br>
                      ==============================<wbr>===========</div>
                  </font></span></div>
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            <br>
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        <br>
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      <br>
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</pre>
    </blockquote>
    <br>
    <pre class="m_-5429180100946464024moz-signature" cols="72">-- 

==============================<wbr>======
Comandante Dewey Finn
Primo Ufficiale
USS Redoutable NCC-35783
Skype Combadge: Silente69
Private comunicator: <a class="m_-5429180100946464024moz-txt-link-abbreviated" href="mailto:francocarretti@mail.com" target="_blank">francocarretti@mail.com</a>
[CV]: <a class="m_-5429180100946464024moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://gioco.net/startrek/starfleetitaly/academy/ruolino.php?id=31" target="_blank">http://gioco.net/startrek/<wbr>starfleetitaly/academy/<wbr>ruolino.php?id=31</a>
==============================<wbr>=====
Non importa quanto una cosa possa sembrare improvvisata, c'è ancora un piano. (Col. John 'Hannibal' Smith)</pre>
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