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

[dreams_dont_die]

Dylan, like any soldier, knew better than to pull a weapon he's not prepared to use. That didn't mean he was about to shoot.

It did mean that if Gaheris made just one move that made Dylan think he was in for a repeat performance, he would.

He'd shot Gaheris. They'd fought on the command deck of the Andromeda with Dawn's body still slumped in the pilot's chair. He'd held Gaheris while he died as a battle raged around them and as everything he knew and believed in started to fall apart. Somewhere, inside, where he almost never let it show, even to himself, he hated himself for that almost as much as he'd hated Gaheris, at times, for what he'd done.

Though Dylan's stare was harder than Gaheris had once been used to seeing and his hand was perfectly steady on his weapon, Gaheris was, of course, right.

Dylan was never a man who could shoot someone cold as he walked away, offering no immediate threat and with no weapon in his hand. Not even if it could change history. If he ever became that man, he'd have crossed a line he never wanted to cross.

Still, for almost nobody else would he, in that moment, have slid the force lance back into its holster. Gaheris had always had a way of speaking as if whatever he suggested was the only logical option and anyone else, including Dylan, was a fool for thinking otherwise.

This time, he was right. But it took a lot for a Nietzschean, especially one as paranoid as Gaheris, to deliberately turn his back on a man with a weapon drawn on him. It was a simple, potent move, and it called a bluff Dylan hadn't really meant to play.

"You know I can't," he said, one small concession to that fact.

[truth_is_cold]

He stalled toward the end of the corridor, and looked back to Dylan.

"No, I don't." Because if he knew that for sure, then why was Dylan standing there and looking at him that way. He didn't want to ask, because he knew that- even if he wished for his failure, hearing about it would set such a sick sense of disgust with himself it would be intolerable. And even that would be repulsive because no Neitzschean should hold themselves in contempt.

Gaheris didn't. He didn't want to, either.

Any sort of parting words, even temporary, seemed inappropriate for the moment. So he continued on after that, in search of some crew that could give him more information.