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]

"You passed out," Julian says simply and obviously, coming back into Telemachus' line of sight with a tricorder. "When you do so while talking to a doctor, you generally end up in sickbay."

He looks over the results of the scan, satisfied now with Telemachus' low blood alcohol level--it had been dangerously high for humans, but with his different genetics, Julian wasn't sure what he could put away before alcohol poisoning set in.

"This should help with your headache." Julian has another hypo in his hand, Telemachus has approximately 2 seconds to stop him before he sticks him with it.

[dreams_dont_die]

"The doctor and your captain had to haul you down here," Dylan says. He's pulling rank, a little, but that's one of the perks of being a captain and having someone around who apparently answers to the same military as he will in his future.

He's glad Doctor Bashir was there; sobering up a guy who's so drunk he keeps passing out is far from Dylan's expertise as a starship captain. That's what Trance is for, though he'd hope he'd never wind up having to haul one of his crew into Andromeda's medbay to sober them up.

"Time to narrow your horizons again, Commander."

[not_gaheris]

Telemachus was a Nietzschean, and thus he had no problem getting medical treatment for something. Headaches and hangovers were generally bad. They made you weak, slow, and your reaction time dulled. Not very good for survival. So, Rhade just let Julian do what he needed to do.

"Thank you, Doctor."

Telemachus took a deep breath, and put his hands to his face, trying to clear the fuzz from his brain and remember exactly what he'd done. "It's been a long day. A very long day. Cut me some slack." From what happened back home to being winked into another universe? There was only so much a boy could take. But Rhade supposed he should just be thankful Dylan doesn't want to take him up on charges.

"Yes, sir." Rhade answered, falling back into old routine until he could clear the cobwebs from his head, flipping between a good Commonwealth solider and wanting to just flip the world off.

[asklepian]

"My pleasure. Now I suggest you take it easy before I have to culture replacement liver cells for you, alright?" Julian puts down his hypospray and picks up a tricorder, scanning to make sure the alcohol is being cleared from his system satisfactorily.

It wasn't like he was unused to seeing people dealing with intra- and extra-personal conflict at the bottom of a bottle--Quark's bar served genuine alcohol, unlike most starships, and in forms that were certainly less than legal in Federation space proper. He'd treated his share of people suffering from the consequences of their overindulgence.

"I can leave you two alone to talk if you like."

[dreams_dont_die]

"And before my future self kicks your butt for conduct unbecoming a High Guard officer," Dylan adds, crossing his arms.

Rhade's at least not giving the doctor any of the attitude he was giving Dylan earlier, but Dylan's had just about enough of looking after his future self's Nietzschean mess.

"I don't know, Rhade, is there anything else you need to say to me?"

Now that he's more sober.

Some of what he'd drunkenly said had been not the sort of thing a man should say to his captain, but ... since he's not Rhade's captain yet (there's a mind-bending thought), he'll let it slide.