TEST DRIVE #6 - The Bridge and Ten Forward

[ten_fwd_mods]

Option 01. Ten Forward: The first thing you see is a bar. A large, lively bar filled with many different faces and many different smells, sights and sounds. This is Ten Forward, the Enterprise's off-duty lounge; feel free to get acquainted with your fellow travelers and try to find somebody who's in charge: this is your new home now, after all...





Option 02. The Bridge: Well, aren't you a lucky duck? You've found yourself in hallowed quarters. Wherever you were before, you're not there anymore. Now you're in a room that could be some kind of command center or control room; there's a captain's chair flanked by seats for his chief officers, computer panels and stations at each interior wall, and before you a broad viewscreen that shows the wide expanse of space rushing towards you. Have you ever wanted to be a starship captain for a day? Well, here's your chance. Feel free to roam around, but try not to touch anything shiny.


[OOC: The Bridge isn't usually available for in-game posts, so if you've ever wanted to play there, here's your chance!]

Comments

Agent Shelan | Star Trek DTI Novels | Option Two

[agent_shelan]

Even decades into the future the Bridge of a Galaxy class ship is a distinctive place and a place of power.
Shelan looks terribly out of place in her heavy smart cloth and pseudoleather jumpsuit among the clean neutral colors of Federation design. She isn't where she was a moment ago, but that's not a problem. A long - almost infinitely long - moment ago she was being killed b a temporal disruptor. Pulled into non-existence by weapons that no one wants to be caught using under the threat of having them turned against them.
She straightens, PADD held neatly to one side and scans the room.

"Hell."

A temporal displacement was bad enough. The fact that she was on what was clearly an Enterprise? She'll be lucky to finish the paperwork in time to retire.

[notalwaysstrong]

"I'll drink to that." Comes the southern US-accented drawl of a human slumped in one of the nearby chairs at a table. He's not drunk... How can he be? All they serve on this heap is fake alcohol.

Still, the man is looking pretty laconic and, no doubt, out of place in his 21st Century Earth clothing; Jeans, a blue plaid shirt and a pair of roper-style cowboy boots. He purposfully learned how to use the Replicator to get these clothes, not being comfortable in Federation civilian garb.

And he seems completely non-plussed by seeing the Suliban in front of his table... at least, on the surface. Mack's pretty good at hiding his feelings.

If Shelan turns to face him, she'll get a lazy salute with a bottle of syntheholic beer.

[agent_shelan]

Twenty-first century Earth, probably right before the Eugenics Wars go hot. A favorite for Starfleet to end up in. Following tracks laid down by Kirk's Enterprise and reinforced by other ships since then is the Department's favorite explanation.
As much as there is one anyway.

"I don't suppose you know the current Stardate?" she asks with an apologetic smile.

[notalwaysstrong]

A decade or so after, actually. And, in Mack's reality, the Wars never even happened.

"I don't even know what a 'stardate' is." It's a lie. He's seen Star Trek. But, like hell, is he going to admit that. Playing dumb is usually the best course of action.

After all, he's still not 100% sure that this isn't some elaborate kidnapping. Even if he doesn't know anyone with this level of resources that would want to get him, and only him.

Regardless, his cover will be adhered to.

[agent_shelan]

And for humans, and even most of the Alpha Quadrant right now, that's a big change from ripple effects. In the long run though (the very long run) those all damp out and the universe comes out much the same on average.
Earlier than you might think, as long as humans get out and join a multi-species government if one is being honest.

"Fair enough," she acknowledges and taps at her PADD to let it sync with the local DTI systems.

It's going to take a while, she'd forgotten how slow the subspace networks could be before the post-Dominion War rebuilding and upgrades. Not that the amount of encryption required speeds things up at all.

"Has there been a lot of people popping into existence around here lately?"

Her body language is approachable, arms and legs uncrossed, face smiling but not showing her teeth. Deliberately open. It contrasts fairly sharply with the outfit, which is as unfriendly as you can make a jumpsuit and not involve spikes.

[notalwaysstrong]

He's dealt with worse.

In fact, her body language appears so open that he motions to the empty chair opposite him. Why not? If you've done ten impossible things this morning...

At the question, he shrugs. "I ain't been here that long. Folks sayin' so, though. Fault of some guy called Q."

A snort. "What sorta name's that?"

[agent_shelan]

Shelan stops and tries to figure out how to explain Q. Any Q, let alone the one that seemed to target Starfleet the most.

"Someone who could turn me into anything from a targ to a top hat, with less effort than it would take me to cross the room," she offers, "I'm pretty sure I was dead before I got here, or worse, so I'm not complaining too loudly."

[notalwaysstrong]

"Yeah, they told me all that." Mack comments, scratching his chin before taking another pull of the beer bottle. "Some all-powerful trickster god or somethin'." He shrugs. "And I had a big head injury, you guys stitched me up, good as new."

A pause, another drink.

"Your beer doesn't work, though."

[agent_shelan]

"The beer is fine," counters Shelan, "Wanting to run a starship while drunk? That's broken."

Starfleet is bad enough sober, after all.

[notalwaysstrong]

"Yeah, well, I ain't runnin' the ship." He says, shrugging. "Besides, what do you folks do for downtime if you can't have a few beers and get a bit rowdy?" He takes another sip. "That's even more broken."

[agent_shelan]

"Oh all the usual things. Music, theater, sports. Besides, you want to take the drink service up with Starfleet. They're the ones who picked poking the edges of known space as the thing they wanted to do with their lives more than having real beer. I'm with a different department."

The even less fun department, but details.

[in_the_wrong_q]

"Well."

This statement comes from a man to Shelan's right... A man who, very likely, wasn't there before.

"A Suliban. Not seen many of you around recently. Wonder why that is."

[agent_shelan]

"Oh, well, every race needs a few centuries of low profile now and again. It keep the novelty when you do something big."

Not everyone has to be a human, after all, getting their noes into everything in the quadrant.

Also, effect less transporters - not impossible - or perception editing - which is just a pain. Neither is local to this point in the space and time. And that means paperwork.