TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward

[tenforward_m]

#1

Option 001. Alien planet, marketplace: So you're new to this whole space travel thing. The ship is cool and all, but there are hundreds of alien worlds out there. You want to explore. To see what the universe REALLY looks like.

Well, here's your chance! Your first stop is this lovely indoor marketplace, which looks kind of like a mall. There are stalls one after the other as far as the eye can see, and they sell all kinds of things: food, clothes, trinkets, animals, fabrics, jewelry, perfumes, books, etc etc. Some things look human, easy to recognize; other things look very alien. There are two levels, and constant chatter as people hawk their wares and discuss prices.

Do you want to explore? Poke at the weird shops? Buy a gift for a new friend? Flirt with someone at the food court? Maybe you see a pickpocket, and must run to the aid of the victim. Maybe there's some other villainy afoot. After all, a crowded marketplace is a good place for villains to lurk, causing trouble. Whether you're a hero or just an unassuming traveler, there proves to be some adventure for you on this planet.


2

Option 002. Aboard the Enterprise, Ten Forward: You have no idea what just happened. One minute you were home, and now you're on a spaceship, in the middle of a crowded room. It looks like a bar. There are people eating and drinking, some in uniform, others not. Some are clearly aliens.

You've managed to land in Ten Forward a long bar with barstools and a bartender, tables sprinkled throughout, and the far wall is nothing but windows out to space. It looks like a nice lounge, low conversation making the room hum.

Better ask some questions and find out where you are, or just tap the closest person on the shoulder and try to make friends. The bar is open.

Comments

[asklepian]

"That is what the bartender is for." Julian's eyebrow just raises, in his professional opinion you've had quite enough. He can smell the alcohol all over this newcomer that had just appeared in the seat across from him and his tea.

Really, he should just avoid Ten Forward altogether if this was to keep happening. He was just trying to enjoy some Cardassian literature in peace, thank you very much...

[not_gaheris]

He could probably use a bath too. There was a bit of a water shortage in the Seefra system. "Aren't you a helpful ray of sunshine," Telemachus scowled, slurring his words. Which was quite a feat for a Nietzschean. He was working hard at getting drunk and exploring his self hatred.

"So who the hell are you?" Looking around, it seemed that this ship was in the same dilemma as the Andromeda. She wasn't going anyway. Fabulous. "And why am I on a ship that's not moving?" For Andromeda, there was an easy explanation. There was no where to go, not that Dylan wasn't working on it. This? This was not his problem. And no one was going to make it his problem.

Of course, if Dylan were here, it would take all of 5 minutes before it became his problem. He needed a new captain. One that wasn't so....enthusiastic.

[asklepian]

Well, Julian wasn't going to comment, but now that you say something...anyway, he certainly tries. His cheer levels are a bit depleted at the moment.

"Doctor Julian Bashir, Starfleet. And it's not moving because the warp drive is currently offline."

Julian sips at his tea, noting the bone spurs on the man's wrists, and recalled what Trance had said, about Nietzschians. He had to wonder, was this man one of them, or was this just a stupendous coincidence?

[not_gaheris]

Well Rhade has no idea what a warp drive is, but he can figure it out. He's Nietzschean. If were stupid he probably would have been drowned as a child.

Well, it could certainly be that Julian's cheer levels were depleted, or it could be the dark cloud of angst that was Rhade sucking it all out of the room. He looked around. If it was a choice between this place and the hell that was Seefra? Fuck, he'd take Seefra. Even if there was no water, it was a hell of a lot more fun than this.

"Never seen a Nietzschean before, Doctor?" Telemachus scowled. Usually he's much more pleasant!

[asklepian]

"No, because you're in a different reality, and Nietzscheans don't exist here. Before now, obviously." You're currently sitting across from the closest thing to, Telemachus. "I've been told a bit about your people, by someone else pulled in from your universe."

The beige and tan colors of Ten Forward Julian actually finds quite relaxing--it's not as dark and shadowy and chaotic as Quark's can get, which is a welcome change.

[not_gaheris]

"Fabulous. I get pulled from Andromeda to the Seefra system, some sort of inescapable pocket dimension, and now I'm here. This is Dylan's fault. Or Trance. It's one of them, they did this."

He looked at his empty cup, wanting more but really to lazy and drunk to go get it.He hated to admit it but maybe Harper was right. And just because he was drunk didn't mean Rhade had lost all his manners, he gave Julian a mock salute. "Lt. Commander Telemachus Rhade of the New Systems Commonwealth starship Andromeda Ascendant." Telemachus narrowed his eyes, staring at the young doctor. "You've never really seen a Nietzschean." And on that thought he felt a little guilty. Rhade was not exactly in the best spot to be an ambassador of his kind. Until normal circumstances he'd be perfect. Unfortunately at the moment he was an unwashed drunk drowning in self pity.

[asklepian]

"Q, actually. Trance has been nothing but helpful--unless you ask the security officers." Julian rather likes her, actually. "Though I suppose that answers the question as to whether you know her or not."

Julian tilts his head toward Telemachus' cup. "What's your pleasure, Commander?" His tea's gone that unpleasant sort of lukewarm and he's feeling magnanimous. And curious, though indulging in the middle of Ten Forward might not be the smartest thing he's ever done. Safe enough, though, if he couches his questions in the trappings of an interested scholar and not the personal one of being an Augment himself, post-Eugenics or no.

[not_gaheris]

"Trance? Naturally, of course Trance is here. Figures. There are only 5 people on our ship with a crew complement of 4000. Yeah. I know her."

Telemachus forced himself to look around, and then back at himself. What a disgrace. It really was his luck. He meets this guy who has never seen Nietzscheans before. He couldn't have met him a year ago? Before his world went and died on him.

"Something alcoholic, if you would. No doubt I'm going to regret this in the morning." Rhade smiled at the man ruefully. "I"m afraid I don't think I can get up."

Rhade really did want to talk to the man. But he also really wanted his head to stop spinning and the opportunity to tell his stomach contents to stay where they were.

[asklepian]

"Well, the universe is a big place, and I didn't want to presume." Julian gets up from the chair easily, going back to the bar and returning after a few moments with something bright orange that he sets in front of Telemachus, as well as a glass of water, and a hot toddy for himself, because when in Rome. Yes, he can juggle all of those. He's a surgeon, dammit.

"Drink some water first, it'll help you stop looking so green around the gills." He sets back with his drink. "I can call a medical emergency if you pass out," he continues, a joking tone in his voice.

"Though on the scale of things that deserve a stiff drink, being shifted between realities ranks well up there." Cheers, buddy.

[not_gaheris]

Rhade chucked at that suggestion, and took a large sip of water. "Thanks. You might have to. I've already passed out once today."

Talk about embarrassing though. First Harper hits him with a chair to wake him up out of his drunken stupor, and then he might pass out in a bar on a strange ship while drinking with a doctor. Harper was right. He chose a crappy day to explore self hatred.

"That's a good reason, but not while I'm drinking. My family's dead. My children. My wife. My lover. The entire known worlds have probably gone to shit and I was stuck in some hell hole I couldn't get out of. And now, it turns out I'm stuck in a different hell hole." Of course that had been his excuse nine months ago too. It was such a good excuse he couldn't help but keep using it.

[asklepian]

Julian frowns into his drink. "I'm sorry." What else can he really say to that? Honestly?

He looks up, and his eyes are not quite as bright as they could be. He's lost people too, been unable to save patients and saw the names of friends on the lists of war casualties. "I wouldn't call this a hell hole. You're a few years too early for that, yet."

He can't tell the other Starfleet officers, but Rhade is not a Starfleet officer.

[not_gaheris]

"Oh well that sounds like a swell idea, why don't I just stick around for that." Rhade took his drink and raised his glass, "To hell. Looks like you've been through it too. Cheers."

He looked down, remembering his three children, his wife Jillian. Louisa. None of them deserved to die like that. At the hands of Magog. He tried to protect her. So damn hard, but protecting a nation of pacifists with only a few people was down right impossible. And here? Now he was stuck here, with no Nietzschean female in sight. His genes were going to die with him. Fabulous. Just fabulous.

[asklepian]

"It was well and enough the first time around, I'd rather just continue with the back half of it." Julian raises his glass as well, then takes a drink.

"Captain Picard is going to find a way to get us all back where we belong, if that's any consolation."

[not_gaheris]

"I'm sure he is." Rhade replied, in a wobbly, drunken slur, indicated that he really didn't think he was ever going anywhere again. But not one to waste good alcohol, he tossed the rest of his drink back. And for the third time today, the world became a little too unstable to hold him. Telemachus' eyes rolled back and he slid off his chair, which seemed suddenly to unsteady, and to the ground. Good solid floor.

[asklepian]

...he really wasn't kidding when he said he didn't think he could stand up. Julian's up again in a flash, checking pulse and breathing before rolling him on his side so he doesn't vomit and aspirate it, because that really would be awful.

"Bashir to sickbay, I'm on my way down with a patient." He could call for a medical emergency, but sickbay is rather close by and he'd like to give Telemachus some time to wake up.

...except he's a massive man compared to Julian, whip-thin as he is. He's got a bit of enhanced strength--the physicians of Adigeon Prime are nothing less than thorough and exacting in their work--but not enough to haul a man around who had to weigh a good 25 kilos more than him, completely deadweight.

"Could I get a hand from someone, please?"

[dreams_dont_die]

Dylan turns at the voice, partly because it's familiar, and partly because it's asking for help, and for a moment, he stares.

Oh, for ...

This is just great. What did he say to Rhade? That expanding his horizons into unconsciousness wasn't a smart move, and there he is, passed out on the floor.

What is his future self thinking letting a member of his crew get into a state like that? Rhade had seemed annoyed with Dylan's future self, but right now, that's nothing on how Dylan feels about him.

"I've got it," he says, striding over and bending down by Julian and Rhade. "Let me guess, he passed out again?"

[asklepian]

"He did. I'm guessing because of the alcohol already in his system, I handed him a virgin drink."

Julian also has a PhD in being a little shit.

"I'm stronger than I look, but he has to have a good 25 kilos on me at least. I can't drag him down by myself."

Once he got Telemachus down there, it would be a simple enough matter to administer a hypospray to clear the alcohol from his system and put in a referral to Counselor Troi for some suggestions on healthier coping mechanisms before he needed a liver transplant.

[dreams_dont_die]

"He's heavier than he looks, too, he's a Nietzschean."

Dylan sort of knows that from experience. Not from Telemachus Rhade, but from Gaheris.

Because sometimes a captain winds up having to help his wounded first officer to medical treatment.

(He has to force himself not to see Gaheris' still, dead face when he looks down at the unconscious Telemachus. He'd bent over Gaheris' body, crouched by him as he'd died.)

Not that Gaheris, proud Nietzschean that he was, would ever have been in a situation like this.

"Lucky for him, I'm stronger than I look, too." And that means a lot more coming from Dylan, tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, than it does from Julian.

Thanks, mom, for the heavy grav strength.

"I can take most of the weight, you just tell me where to go."

[asklepian]

There's quite a large difference, Julian feels, between someone with the slack face of unconsciousness and the expression of a dead person. He's seen both, many times, and there's no way he'd mistake Telemachus for dead.

"Right, then, just follow me. Once we get to the turbolift, it'll be easy enough going."

Julian swings one of Telemachus' arms across his bony shoulders, indicating for Dylan to take the other. Between the two of them, they should be able to manage well enough.

"He said he was from the Andromeda Ascendant as well, he's one of your crew?"

[dreams_dont_die]

It's just the memories. Memories it's really hard to shake when the best friend who betrayed him, who he killed, is genetically reincarnated and here, now, in front of him.

The beard helps, a little, but he'd had that face at his right hand for years and he still looks at an old photograph of it in his quarters most mornings.

"Apparently. Some time in my future." As if the whole genetic reincarnation of Gaheris Rhade thing wasn't enough to put Dylan on the back foot, Telemachus knows Dylan and Dylan doesn't know him.

He's had more than enough of these temporal twists to last several lifetimes.

"I've never met him before today, but he sure seems to know me."

Julian's got one of Rhade's arms slung across him, and Dylan gets the other, wrapping one arm around the Nietszchean's back to take the bulk of his weight when they lift him.

"You ready?"

[asklepian]

"Well, you'll just have to get to know each other again." Though inwardly Julian's cringing at the potential ramifications on space-time. Q is really buggering everything up. "He's probably not too thrilled about the difference either."

"Ready." Julian straightens properly, from the knees. Between the two of them, he's only very slightly shorter, so at least there isn't disparate heights to be worrying about.

They just have to drag him out and down the hall to the turbolift, with a small apologetic glance at Guinan for the commotion.

[dreams_dont_die]

"I can't wait." Which is probably unfair. Telemachus seemed nice enough in the conversation they'd had. But it's been a hell of a day, and hauling Nietzschean is not on the top of his list of favorite things to do. Though he'd probably have to admit if anyone asked that he's curious just how in hell he managed to wind up with Rhade serving on his ship.

He must have won his trust somehow.

"I get the feeling he's not. Apparently he's annoyed with me in the future."

Dylan and Julian straighten up together, Dylan's arm across Rhade's strong body taking most of the strain, and it is a strain, carrying a dead weight like that, or would be, if it weren't for his mom.

Besides, Dylan's a soldier and he's hauled plenty of wounded comrades back to safety on ops when there wasn't the advantage of a readily available stretcher and medical androids from his ship's med deck.

"Let's go."

[asklepian]

"Wonder why that is?" He honestly does, Dylan seems like a good Captain.

Out the door takes a little maneuvering, Dylan and Rhade both are large and powerful men, and the door was only built for one. Julian trying to push through it at the same time doesn't help matters, despite him being far more slender.

Once they get into the nearby turbolift, Julian calls for deck 12 sickbay. It doesn't take long for the turbolift to cross the distance between the two areas, then they just need to angle themselves through the doorway again.

"Over to the biobed with him," Julian says cheerfully enough, turning them in that direction.

[dreams_dont_die]

"Apparently he's sick of saving my life," Dylan says, shifting his grip on Rhade's arm because even passed out, a Nietzschean's bone blades aren't something he particularly wants to tangle with. He's had enough of them used to attack him to be complacent about them.

To be fair, Rhade would be far from the first person on his crew to say something like that about him, and Tyr is usually the first to point out when he thinks he's being cavalier with his life. A lot of Nietzscheans have trouble with understanding the importance of sometimes needing to make that gamble in order to win big.

But Dylan's still here. It's working so far for him.

They have to squeeze through the door, and Dylan's going to ask how far it is when Julian stops and leads them into ...

What turns out to be a lift.

"Your ship has lifts."

That is ... really impressive. He's not sure what level they were on to begin with, but ... as reluctant as he is to entertain any criticism of his ship, a lift would make getting around a a hell of a lot easier.

With the lift, it's really not far to the med bay, large, light, and with far more people in it than he's seen in Andromeda's for a very long time. Given that his med deck is run by Trance and Trance alone, that's not hard.

They maneuver Rhade across to one of the beds that Julian indicates, and when they get him there, Dylan bends to let the weight he's carrying down onto the bed.

Heavy worlder or not, that was easier with two than one.

"I guess I should say thanks for my future self."

[asklepian]

"Bloody hell, if we had to use the Jeffries tubes to get everywhere we'd never get anything done."

Julian is merely fascinated by the natural weapons, their own Augments has nothing of the like--just brute strength and dangerous cunning. Not that he's ever seen one of those in person either, the closest he gets is looking at himself in the mirror, and he doesn't have anywhere near the physical power of one of them.

"Well we'll get him sorted out, then you can thank me."

He picks up a tricorder, running a quick scan to get the proper dosage of medicine, calculating the amount needed in an instant in his head.

Then he loads a hypospray with the required dose of antitoxin and presses it to Telemachus' neck deftly and presses the trigger to release the drug that will clear the alcohol from his system. He'll sober up right quick that way.