ten_fwd_ooc | TEST DRIVE #6 - The Bridge and Ten Forward

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test drives

TEST DRIVE #6 - The Bridge and Ten Forward

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!]

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"And if I choose neither option?" It'ss perhaps revealing too much, but short of being rendered unconscious - he like to see them try - and bodily dragged there, Khan is not going to Sickbay. The moment they scan him, the moment they take a blood sample, they'll know. His blood can cure disease. His mind can build warships. His body can survive the crash landing of a starship.

Khan is better. And in his experience? Humans have always sought to exploit that.

Tell that to Julian, who nearly got kicked out of Starfleet for being enhanced--granted, to a far lesser degree. He does look sympathetic at least. There's been multiple people who have been less than enthusiastic about the scans.

"I'm not sure. Everyone has opted for the exams thus far. I imagine you'd have to take that up with Captain Picard. But really, I doubt you'll be much more of a surprise than the physical embodiment of a sun, capability to remain standing after severe trauma or no."

Khan's able to not just remain standing, but hold a coherent conversation, for all that he looks like he's going to drop where he stands. The high of battle is wearing off, now, pain finally creeping - the augment hides it well, but there's tightening around his eyes that gives him away. His blood, his genes are feverishly fixing the damage, but it'll be a day or more before he's healed.

"My medical history is my own," he replies coolly, clasping his hands behind his back. He knows nothing about this Captain Picard, save that he's of Starfleet, and that is more than enough to damn him in Khan's eyes.

Stubborn. Damnably stubborn, as bad or worse than Garak, and that's saying something.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality is still alive and well, I assure you." Julian's head tilts slightly. He's sure of the fact that there is something about this man that isn't human, whether that be because of parentage or something else. He's still upright, able to speak, and able to be bull-headed about this. Any human--or ones like himself or Dylan--would be down for the count right now.

Considering this man's knowledge of Starfleet, Captain Kirk, his strength and reflexes, his Human appearance belying resilience that few could hope to ever match...Julian has a sinking feeling. He knows Khan and his people had encountered the Enterprise. He also knows that the man in front of him looks nothing like any of the people he knew about from the history books--even with his extensive reading on the subject, anything about the Eugenics Wars and subsequent history he could get his hands on.

It's inconclusive at best. Circumstantial. He has to remember that.

"It would not be divulged. To anyone. We're only here to help you, until all of us get back to where we belong."

For a brief moment, there's a darkly bitter smile on his face, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. "I've heard that before." And every time, it's been a lie.

Still, the doctor seems just as bull-headed about getting him there as he is about refusing. It would be enough to make him bristlingly suspicious, but it's clear that this man is a doctor in both profession and ethics.

A rare thing, in his experience.

He cocks his head. "You never gave me your name, doctor."

"You didn't either," Julian says, introductions had sort of fallen by the wayside during the whole choking crewmembers debacle.

He is a very stubborn doctor, it's true. He's never been one to give up on people.

"Julian Bashir."

The name is unfamiliar, but that is expected - everything about this situation is unfamiliar. A different ship, a different Starfleet... the only thing that has been a constant in his life has been himself, and his ability to adapt. To conquer. This is new territory, but Khan will do as he's always done: survive.

But first, he needs to rectify this situation.

"Khan." The augment is watching Julian's face closely, searching. It's a calculated risk - he could have resurrected John Harrison, Section 31's obedient pet, but that man was a known terrorist. He, on the other hand, was a guarded secret. The only question is to how well-guarded. How much had Starfleet let slip, how badly had Section 31 covered their tracks?

Here? They'd never had a thing to cover up. The Botany Bay, and Khan, had been found by the Enterprise. And they'd never been involved. Oh, Julian wouldn't be surprised if they had been, now that he knows--they've tried pulling him into their ranks now, too.

He'd suspected that the man was, somehow, one of the 72. What he hadn't expected was to hear that name in particular, and it shows. His eyes widen, he pales, before he can master his reaction. By then it's too late. He knows even that split second of visible reaction was enough to make it plainly obvious that he knew exactly how significant that name was.

But he's not bolting. He's not calling for Security. Yet. In reality, at this moment, he has no idea what to do. He should by all rights call for assistance--but he knows just how simple it would be for him to mow down everyone in this room before they could even get there.

And Khan catches that reaction, eyes immediately narrowing. It's subtle, but Khan tenses, strength and violence coiling beneath his skin. "You know me."

It's a statement, not a question. Doctor Bashir knows of him, of his reputation, which can only mean that security will soon be sweeping down upon him. The augment's face shutters, eyes hardening, and his gaze shifts from the man before him to the rest of the room. He's taking stock, clearly analyzing his surroundings and preparing for a fight.

He won't be captured again.

Julian holds up a hand, imploring him to wait--his mind scrambling to catch up, to do something to defuse this situation before it escalates further. He can read that promise of violence in tensed muscles, narrowed eyes.

"Wait," he says, followed by a breathy utterance of 'bloody hell', because what else can he really say in this situation. Very little else comes to mind. "Just...wait."

Shit.

But aside from general concern over the doctor approaching this man, the tension in the room hasn't ratcheted up with the admission of his name. No one else heard. No one else seems to recognize him.

"Come to Sickbay. I can explain." He can do something, get him away from these people before they're unknowingly attacked by someone who can lay all of them low without even exerting himself.

And there it is. Khan can read the doctor's concern, his fear. He knows what Khan is capable of, and want to spare his crew it. Noble, if futile. Khan could, and would, tear through this entire room in less time than it would take security to even get close.

It's fortunate, then, that the augment finds himself pausing, with eerie stillness, at Julian's plea. The rest of the bar seems not to have picked up on the tension between the two of them, indicating that they had either not heard, or didn't recognize, who he was. Curious, that this man should, then. Just how much had Starfleet made public?

Come to Sickbay. It was almost certainly a trap, a desperate attempt to lure him away from the crew around them - then, the man had been attempting to get him to the medical wing before Khan had ever revealed himself.

"Very well." The words came with a quiet growl - surprising even himself, though he hid it well. He'll give the doctor a chance - one chance.

Truly speaking, this wasn't even his crew--not aside from the connection he felt to all Starfleet officers, as comrades. Jadzia wasn't here. Neither was Ezri, and despite having just met her, he also knew her well. He didn't want to see her hurt either.

Thank God, though, that he was listening. A switch seems to flip almost instantly, Julian smiling for the edification of the crowd. He's having to play it up far too much lately.

"What a terrible misunderstanding. Off we go, then." And he turns his back, not fearlessly, but because there's really no other option he has at the moment, and walks out the door.

Khan spares no glance for the other patrons - let them assume that the good doctor talked him down, that everything was some sort of accident brought on by the panic of being suddenly translocated. There's no false smile on his part, but he does follow.

Although 'follow' may be too loose a word for the way Khan moves - it's much more of a prowl. He keeps Julian firmly in his sights, but isn't shy about mapping what he can see of the ship, noting the corridors and rooms, deck maps and Jefferies tubes. With each additional scrap of data, his escape options grow.

It's not far to the turbolift, and once it closes, Julian gives the command for it to go to Deck 10.

But he doesn't let it go for long before his long fingers fly over the controls, inputting a command he learned from Miles that shuts the lift down. He's noticed your evaluation, and he doesn't intend to let it continue all the way to Sickbay.

Not that he can fight Khan off--though he might give a better reckoning of himself than the other man expects, his strength was slightly enhanced but his reflexes and speed are far and away better than a normal person's. He'd never been really eager to see how they compared before. The turbolift would be simple for him to get going again, too--Julian would just have to talk his way out of this.

"I suggest you not tell anyone else your name," Julian says bluntly. This isn't really the sort of thing he knows how to approach tactfully.

And Khan just keeps watching, even as Julian leads him into the turbolift. His brain, never particularly still to begin with, is busy cataloging the differences a hundred years has made. When the lift simply halts partway to their destination, he turns an inquiring eye to the doctor.

He's not concerned. Here, the advantage is his. That the good doctor has chanced being alone with him is either a gesture of goodwill, or a sign of incredible foolishness. Or both.

"How much is known to the public?" Khan asks, lacing his hands behind his back. History hasn't remembered him kindly, he's certain, but he chafes under the name of John Harrison. Harrison was a tool, a weapon, built and broken by Marcus and Section 31. He doesn't want to be that man again.

Probably both, to be honest. But Julian has something in his back pocket that he thinks might possibly help him, should this come to blows.

"Of you? Enough. I'm not sure who else would put it together--you don't look at all like you do in the history books." Julian narrows his eyes, because why that is is completely beyond him. Unless...perhaps he's from the other reality, the one Doctor McCoy is from. He's not about to ask. That would be revealing his presence, and if he was so adamant that the Enterprise had been severely damaged, if not destroyed...Julian had to make sure that didn't happen for as long as possible.

He lifts his chin, looks straight at him--the spectre of history that everyone says is the darker side of toying with genetics, the reason there are laws in place against those like him that came after. Like himself.

"I'm sure if I belonged to this timeline, I'd be court-martialed for what I'm about to say. I will not report to Captain Picard so long as you give me your word that you will not harm anyone on this ship."

Khan would argue that he is exactly as he was made to be - not just a product of humanity, but above it. He and his kind were bred to be leaders, conquerors, and it was only once humanity had realized that they couldn't stand Augments in power over them that things had turned ugly.

Khan didn't start the Eugenics Wars. But he did his best to end them.

"And why would you do that, doctor?" He cocks his head, words enunciated with slow, careful precision. "You know who I am. You know what I can do. I've already injured one of the crew here. By all right, you should be running to your Captain this very instant."

Because Khan will not make a promise he doesn't intend to keep.

Now see, this is exactly why people don't like you very much.

"Where, exactly, would that get me?" Julian points out mildly. He's currently trapped in a turbolift with you. Captain Picard is a good number of decks away, Security wouldn't be able to get to them before Khan killed him. "I know what you can do, you're quite right about that. Therefore I know that if I called for him now, I might get the first syllable of what I tried to say out before you incapacitated me, if I was lucky and spoke very quickly."

"You could have called the moment you heard my name," he points out. "It would likely have gotten many in that room killed, but the ship would have been alerted."

And in this state, Khan's not certain he could take on an entire ship. From what he's seen, this new Enterprise rivals, or perhaps even exceeds, the Vengeance for sheer size. More importantly, it seemed as though it had a full complement of crew.

"So instead, you're gambling on me being reasonable enough to listen. Considering what your history texts have likely written about me, that is incredibly naive on your part."

"Oh, I know, I've read them all. And you'd be surprised, a good number of them are very fair. That's why I'm sure you have the capacity to be reasonable enough to listen."

Julian is something of an armchair historian, when it comes to this particular subject. He's read literally every text he could get his hands on, about the Eugenics Wars, about genetic engineering, about anything and everything that might even be tangentially related. It was the first subject he'd studied while being well and truly aware of what he was capable of--not exactly light reading, and it had made him an even more difficult teenager to deal with than normal, he was sure.

Anyway, he's sure that it will come out sooner rather than later. And maybe he'll be exposed as well, when Doctor McCoy inevitably finds out who precisely had just arrived.

Planning on the fly had never truly been his strong suit. Lord. What was he thinking?

Very fair. He doubts it. But the idea that this doctor has read a number of texts about his wars, himself, and his family is... intriguing. Khan steps closer, suddenly seeming to take up much more space than he really does.

"And I am certain that you, doctor, have the capacity to understand that I don't make guarantees without knowing all of the facts."

He won't promise not to harm anyone. It's not in his nature. He wasn't born in peace - though he craved it, once, even succeeded for a few scant years. But all of that is out of his reach, now. His family is dead. He is the last of his kind, and by all rights, he should have joined them.

Even positive. Those were some of the harder ones to find, and most had been...less than academic, to say the least. A few had been downright poisonous. But he'd been desperate to know everything he could possibly find.

It was...well, a way to deal with what he'd found out had been done to him. Perhaps not the best one, but it wasn't as if he could talk to a therapist about it.

He doesn't back down when Khan steps closer, even though every instinct in his body is screaming at him to.

First, he thought...he had to confirm something. He wasn't exactly sure how--he hadn't had much of a chance to speak with Doctor McCoy about the changes to their timelines.

"Alright then. But first, I have to know something--who was it that found you, in the Botany Bay?"

Any answer but Kirk and the Enterprise crew would tell him what he needed to know.

That draws him up short, and he raises an eyebrow. Surely that had been covered in the histories?

"Admiral Alexander Marcus." There's a ill-restrained snarl in his tone, in the curl of his lip, and it's clear that this, this is a man who Khan despises. "Of Starfleet's Section 31."

His former commanding officer. Or, more accurately, his former keeper, jailer, and torturer. Khan almost, almost wished the man was here now, just so he could have the pleasure of killing him again.

Well, he was sure it had. But history here was, obviously, different.

Julian's not sure what part of Khan's answer surprises him more--Section 31, or an Admiral being involved in it. Surely that damn organization didn't go that deep into Starfleet. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth--bad enough that it existed. Worse still was that obviously, at some point, it had gotten into the upper echelons of Starfleet Command.

"Section 31." He says it as if it is a curse--it really might as well have been. A dark shadow of the organization Julian loves so dearly, perverting the Federation's ideals.

"That's different than what happened here."

Julian's recognition draws Khan's attention, but the clear disgust in his voice mirrors Khan's own, and he finds his suspicion soothed. Still, that it still exists in this time - or rather, this timeline, as is becoming apparent - is both infuriating and, strangely, elating.

He can still destroy them.

That savagery in his blood wasn't satisfied by the Archives, by Marcus, or even by San Francisco. But here, perhaps, he can do more.

"How fortunate for my counterpart," he replies, but his eyes are fixed, with single-minded intensity, on Julian. "You know of them?"

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