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

Noonien Soong: walking talking tng relaunch/pocket spoilers. sorry!

[postorganic]

Oh, the best laid plans...

It's an instant. One moment, Soong is speeding through space, his sense of urgency in saving his sons renewed, and at the next fraction of a second, he's here. Where is here? He recognizes it fairly quickly from all of the transmissions and logs he's hacked into over the past few years. Not that the hum of the ship itself, and the uniforms didn't give it away. He's on the Enterprise.

Before he can curse his luck, or feel his anxiety for B-4's state rise in his chest, he turns from the rest of the room, facing out one of the large windows. It doesn't seem as if they've noticed him yet. So as quickly and discreetly as he can, he alters his appearance. His skin takes on a darker hue, his brown hair turns a shade or two lighter. The structure of his face changes entirely. A square jaw, wide green eyes. He could be pass for a good-natured ensign, with the right clothes. But for now, the physiology and slight accent of a Centaurian will do. They're close enough to humans to register as one on simple bioscans, and he knows enough about life on Velestus (or Alpha Centauri IV, if you will) to craft a convincing story.

He finally turns from the window, looking nothing like the man who created this ship's second officer. It's time to find out the ship's heading... and plan his escape as soon as possible.

[abyssum_invocat]

"It's very pretty out there," says one small girl with dark hair, leaning against the glass looking out at the stars. It's a rather impressive, albeit terrifying, view for her.

The stars have never been so clear and seemed so close. "Isn't it?"

[postorganic]

If his alternate identities weren't second nature to him at this point, he'd probably be sighing and rolling his eyes. Of course people would want to engage him in small talk, even without knowing who he is. But he's grown accustomed to it. Even under immense stress, he's learned to act his part.

He smiles, regarding the young woman with a slight nod of his head. "Indeed. It's a sight that never gets old. Is this your first time on a star ship?"

He's noted her clothing and demeanor already of course, but engaging her this way is much more believable than asking whether or not she's a civilian.

[abyssum_invocat]

For Sinthia, knowing who he is is very simple; she hears thoughts, everyone's, all the time. She has only to be in listening distance to know, but his name means nothing to her, he's so far after her time. Everyone is that she's met, and it's incredibly offputting.

Small talk is, too, but not nearly so much as anything else, and so she merely glances up with an expression oddly devoid of most emotion. She's curious, she's assessing, she's nervous; one of those things is very rarely seen that way on an eight-year-old's face. "Yes," she replies. "They don't exist where I'm from. Not even theoretically, not yet."

[postorganic]

Lucky for her that he's an organic consciousness in a mechanical body. So there is something there for her glean from his mind.

Still, her answer is puzzling. Sure, he'd assumed she was a refugee they'd plucked up from some doomed planet, just as Starfleet had done with his own son... But a planet without interstellar travel? What of the Federation's precious Prime Directive? Was Picard really that much of "loose cannon"? Perhaps his son's sacrifice makes more sense in that light... Not that it would change the impact of it, or Soong's view of Starfleet in general.

But, he sighs, giving the view an almost wistful stare. "Remember it well. There's nothing quite like your first flight." Yes, remember it well, until they purge your memory and dump you off on some unnamed class M.

[abyssum_invocat]

Her brows crease at his line of thought, and without meaning to she answers him back verbally. "I'm not a refugee," she says, confused. "I'm...from Berlin." Well, technically she's more recently from somewhere near Innsbruck, but that doesn't go with what he meant.

Or what she thinks he meant. Sometimes it's still difficult for her to glean meaning from thoughts. "I don't know if I like it yet."

[postorganic]

A telepath? Wonderful.

That certainly puts a damper on his newly forming plans. He was nearly ready to play on Picard's heartstrings, or try to barter for a shuttle. If this little girl gave him up, it'd be unlikely that he'd be leaving on his own accord at all, let alone with some federation property.

There isn't much he can do about it now though. Other than keep talking, that is. If they find some common ground, she may just keep his name to herself.

"Berlin? Earth? We've been warp capable since before even I was born." He turns his full attention to her finally, intrigued. "How exactly did you get on board this ship?"

[abyssum_invocat]

"I don't know," she admits, shaking her head and focusing on the glass rather than the space beyond it. "I was supposed to be concentrating for a test with my father watching and then...I was here. I didn't teleport, I know I didn't," she whispers, fast and quiet under her breath.

"Even if I did I couldn't have ended up four hundred years in the future." She didn't--and still doesn't--have the faintest clue what she'd have been aiming for if she could time travel. "That's when everyone tells me this is. It's...it was 1942 for me."

[postorganic]

Okay, maybe she's insane. Probably wouldn't be the first time someone who had to listen to other people's thoughts all day ended up that way. Then again, that's how he had arrived on the Enterprise. Too far away to call his ship back for him... And now that he thinks about it, he can't be sure he's in the correct time either.

"Did they tell you what the current year is? Or anything specific about this vessel?"

[abyssum_invocat]

"Yes," she says, arms crossing and voice flat.

"I'm not insane."

[postorganic]

He shakes his head, waving a hand as if to simply brush away the insult. He can't control his thoughts, and aside from that, there are more important things to deal with currently... Like getting back to where they both belong with their minds and bodies intact.

To do that, he needs to know exactly what they're up against.

"Listen, if what you're telling me is true, you and I are in the same boat... So to speak. What did they tell you?"

[abyssum_invocat]

After regarding him thoughtfully, intensely for a long few moments, Sinthia relays the information she'd been told and had found out for herself.

"We're not in the same boat at all. You're not like me," she says, though there's only barely a hint of feeling to that, and whether it's a scoff or wistfulness is actually hard to tell. "I don't think anyone here is."

[postorganic]

If he were still totally human, he'd probably be struggling to get his words out, with all the thoughts swirling in his mind. But, despite this information, despite the fact that his son is alive and on this ship, he can process it all with ease, and speak freely.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, there's probably only one person on this ship like me." He's not sure how consoling that is, but at least it's true. "I'm not a telepath, and you're not an android. But, the fact remains that neither of us belong on this ship."

[abyssum_invocat]

"I'm not just a telepath," she says quietly, shaking her head before returning to looking out the window. "I can teleport, and walk through walls, and I'm telekinetic."

She's powerful for an eight-year-old, yeah, but she's also not the world's most willing to use these things. "What do you propose to do about being on this ship?"

[postorganic]

Not knowing too many species who could teleport (or any species actually), he raises a brow at that. As interesting as it might be, it would not likely be useful here.

"I do not yet know." He breathes quietly. As much as he wants to rush to Data's quarters, it would be difficult to explain that action. A couple of unintentional stowaways accessing the ship's computer would be equally suspicious.

"A ship such as this has ways of detecting people who don't belong on it. The crew must know we are here, and, for some reason, are not alarmed by it. If they plan to offer us quarters... Well, it's probably foolish to hope, but that would be the ideal way to learn more about our situation." Even without his ship, or his equipment, he should still be able to access, undetected, anything he pleases on the ship's computer. Assuming he has time to work in private.

[abyssum_invocat]

"What else would they plan to do? They can't keep us locked in here forever, can they?" she asks, eyes widening as if she's mildly horrified by the thought. She hates being locked into rooms. It never means anything good.

[postorganic]

"No. Though, as... Lenient as I know this Captain to be with Starfleet procedure, we will likely be left at the nearest Starbase. That is why I'd like to return us to where we belong as soon as possible. A fate decided by Starfleet is not entirely enticing to me." His complete disdain for the organization slips into his words. He doesn't trust them at all, or agree with their practices

[abyssum_invocat]

Her eyes go wide at the mention of a starbase, because this is not good information. Not at all. Sinthia doesn't even belong in this year, much less a place this far away from her own home, her country. Hell, her planet.

"Will they leave all of us there? Even the ones like me? I didn't do anything to them, we don't even have a Starfleet where I come from."