TEST DRIVE #1 - Ten Forward

[tenforward_m]

You know how you were standing there, back in your home world, just minding your own business?

Time to forget all about that.

Instead of doing whatever the heck you were just doing, you're standing in the middle of this very stylish, sedate barroom. Happily, you're not alone there - in fact you're surrounded by people who seem to be as confused as you are...and some of them look a little, well unusual

Now would be a great time to do....well, something. Ask some questions of the person nearest you, throw a fit, stage a coup....maybe do a little exploring? No matter what you do, you're going to be here for a very long time.

For others might call it the USS Enterprise, but for the foreseeable future, you'll be calling it home.

[OOC: this test drive's open until the next app period.]

Comments

[from_the_outside]

She's surprised enough by the way he asks the second question -- focused, with no shade of annoyed derision or mistrust -- that her eyes slide to study him, but it's brief, barely a flicker, or a blink, before she's regaining herself.

It's just a little like heaving on a line you think will have an anchor, only to find it's loose. "I count at least eight," she says, "maybe ten at a maximum. Look around; you'll see them, too."

It's not hard, once he gains his bearings. There are people here clumping in groups of two or three, casting wary or frightened or outright confused looks about the room, wide-eyed and lost. She and Steve are blending in better than they are, and they're not even wearing those strange, skintight jumpsuits that lack even a belt to hold a holster. "As for trapped..."

A short lift of her shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine. If none of us actually came through a door to get here, I have no idea how we get back out again."

One corner of her mouth presses in, slightly; the barest suggestion of a curve as she glances up, sidelong, at Rogers. "How's that baseline working out for you?"

[stark_spangled]

"I'll let you know when this is all over," he says, without missing a beat. He meets her eyes, but he'll make her work for a smile in return. It could be there, lurking under the disapproval and bruised feelings, but who's to say?

It doesn't matter right now, anyway. Regardless of what's happened between them in the past, or what might happen in the future, they aren't the only people on this boat. Before she ever answers his questions he picks out four souls that don't belong here, and soon after that spies the full eight. Nobody looks harmed or desperate, but they're in various states of shock. Steve recognizes that look.

"And if we're floating out in open space, as the view would suggest, there's no reason to stage a rescue until we know what we're dealing with," he mutters. It's delayed agreement with her remark on the door. Assess the situation, gather intel, and find the way back home. It makes more sense than twisting arms and breaking kneecaps. "Has anyone been in and out of these doors? I count one on the left and one on the right, and my guess is there's some kind of storage room or office behind the bar."

[from_the_outside]

"Fair enough."

She follows his quick assessment, and nods at his count. "I haven't seen anyone new leave yet. A few of the uniforms have gone through both main doors -- from here, I didn't see anything more than a lit-up hallway. No one's come in or out from behind the bar yet, but if you're right -- and I think you are -- we'll get more information outside than we will from a storage room or separate office."

This room is contained, curved along what must be the hull of the ship or station, and it doesn't make sense to go further in and risk being cornered. Nobody keeps their important intel in the bar unless they're deep undercover or working a front, and somehow -- she furrows her eyebrows at a uniform walking by -- she doesn't think this place is going for that kind of subtlety. "No security at the doors. We go out there, find an exit, and gather intel on wherever we are."

She crooks an eyebrow, turns to him. "What's your call, Captain?"

[stark_spangled]

She already made the call he would, but she gives him the chance to arrive there on his own terms. He casts a look at her down his nose, if only because he's a few inches taller, and flexes his jaw. After a few seconds, he nods.

"I say we find the captain of this ship," he says, coming alive as soon as he's got his mission. "And we make him talk."

[from_the_outside]

"There are those legendary leadership skills," she says, one corner of her mouth quirking up. It's not amusement, per se, just...appreciation, but it quickly gives way to an all-business set of her shoulders, eyes focused and tone clipped as she starts making her way towards the nearest door.

"These uniforms are obviously color-coded. I haven't seen enough yet to know how they're all split up, but if this is a ship, and we find the bridge, we'll find command."

[stark_spangled]

Steve's at her side without hesitation or complaint. He's even glad she's ready to move without him having to tell her.

The doors slide open for them like they do at the grocery store. Steve still isn't completely used to that, but he's glad nothing is standing in their way. "My guess is we're either at the stern or the bow, judging by the curve of the room. Most ships will have some directions painted overhead or along the walls. Which deck we're on, which level."

[from_the_outside]

She strides straight through before the doors have finished opening. The best cover in a place you don't know but don't want to be caught out in is to pretend you know exactly where you're going, and she walks with purpose, glancing at the walls to check for any sign of the directions Rogers thinks might be there.

She doesn't see any. The corridors are lined on one gently curving side with glossy screens that remind her of the helicarrier's computer banks, and on the other with what look like brushed metal storage compartments -- like the ones on commercial airliners, above the seats. The floor is carpeted, the lighting is pleasant and soothing, and the door closes behind them with a smooth shooosh that she wouldn't even notice if she weren't so keyed up. "So much for signage."

She looks one direction, and the other, steps to the edge of the carpet to study one of the screens more carefully. It's quiet, black, and she can see her reflection in it as she reaches to touch the pad of a finger to the glass.

[stark_spangled]

Something about the way she moves calls back working with Natasha -- but it would, wouldn't it? She's not his neighbor, not a nurse (like his mom); she's a spy, like Natasha. She's graceful movements to Steve's coiled power, smooth confidence to his analytical caution.

He frowns at the hallway like it's just done him a personal insult. It's clean, definitely modern, and a little too-white for his tastes. He squints at the overhead lighting, catching Sharon's divergence from the corner of his eye. "Is that some kind of computer?"

The terminal chirps to life, solid black screens giving way to LCD commands.

[from_the_outside]

"Looks like it --"

Her finger lifts slightly in surprise, but she doesn't back away, just studies the screen with narrowing eyes. "Well, that's handy. Maybe we can find some directions here." Her mouth purses, twists thoughtfully. "Schematics would be handy."

[stark_spangled]

"Can you figure out how to bring them up?" he asks, looming over her shoulder.

It isn't intended as a barb this time. Steve knows when he's outclassed, and the facts are he may be decent with a smartphone and able to pluck his way through on a laptop, but this is more Sharon's area of expertise. It all looks Greek to him.

[from_the_outside]

She glances back at him, squared shoulders relaxing slightly when there's no antagonism in the comment. "Can't be that hard."

It's only partially bravado. SHIELD has cutting-edge tech, and it might be light-years behind whatever this is, but she'd learned to use it, and she can learn to use this. Turning back to the computer screen, she peers at the lit options. "It's got to be easy enough for everyone else onboard to use, otherwise what's the point of having them in the halls? Especially if you're looking for schematics of the ship or directions..."

The last word trails a little, because the screen chirps and the images swoop and blink to form a lit sketch of what must be this ship. Text types itself next to the image, and she reads it out loud: "Galaxy-class starship, USS Enterprise...?"

Okay, that name, she does know.

[stark_spangled]

"Neat trick," Steve says, watching the display change. He doesn't know what she did, but whatever it was obviously worked.

He frowns. He also recognizes the name, but maybe not for the same reasons. "United States Navy? Or whatever constitutes the Navy way out here. It's not an aircraft carrier, that's for sure, but if it answers to our government that's at least some comfort."

It doesn't make Steve any less inclined to wrest some answers out of the people in charge, but at least he has some footing.

[from_the_outside]

"It's not a trick."

She's frowning at the screen, head tipped slightly to the side, studying the schematics. "It must respond to vocal commands. Computer?"

It's a shot in the dark, but it pays off -- the console chirps and the lights flash. Sharon's eyebrows lift, and there's a faint press of triumph in the corner of her mouth. "Direct us to the bridge."

[stark_spangled]

Steve frowns at her, but before he has the opportunity to wise off the Computer is actually answering Sharon's question.

"The bridge is located on Deck One, accessible by the main turbolift."

A light pinpoints the deck on the sketch Sharon pulled up, and running lights flash down the hall in the direction they need to move in. "OK." It isn't an apology. "That's definitely a good start. Ladies first."

[from_the_outside]

She half-turns, tucking fallen hair behind her ear, the corner of her mouth quirking at the look on his face. It might even be called a smile, were someone generous enough to consider such a word. "I'm guessing you haven't had a chance to catch up on science fiction, yet."

Not that she necessarily approves of the idea. It's risky as hell in the event of an enemy boarding party -- the bigmouthed computer could just direct a team of unfriendly operatives straight to the captain's quarters. It's a liability.

But a handy one, and she doesn't hesitate to take Rogers' invitation, just follows the running lights with a quick, firm step.

[stark_spangled]

The look he gives her in response to her smile is flat at best. It's cute, she wears it well, and maybe if things had been different between them he'd find it every bit as attractive as it is, but he's still licking his wounded pride.

"Uh, no," he says, the question dragging a smirk out of him as he falls in line beside her. "Natasha seems to think I'm only half a man until I watch something called 'Star Wars', but they've been keeping me busy." And he doesn't own a DVD player. "Journey to the Center of the Earth was pretty good, though. I remember that story from when I was a kid."

He, of course, means the Henry Levin version, not the remake from a few years back.