TEST DRIVE #2 - The Holodeck/Ten Forward

[tenforward_m]

Where were you a minute ago? Well, you aren't there anymore. Instead, you're standing in a very large, dark room lined with yellow. There are doors at either end of it.

Here's where things get a little choose your own adventure-y. You could:



1: Approach a console filled with buttons, located a few feet away. Press one, and it'll let you out of the room. Travel down a long hallway and you'll be in Ten Forward, the Enterprises' entertainment lounge. Have a drink, mingle and try to figure out why you're here.

OR

2: Maybe you just muttered some vague request under your breath. Maybe you wished aloud you were somewhere else. Or for help? If you did, might be in a fire station. Muttered something about killing whoever dumped you here? Surprise - you're in a slasher movie!

Though they're confusing, these visions feel about as real as they can be. And guess what - other people can experience those fantasies with you, as if they too were really there. How ever will you escape? Or do you want to?

[OOC: Welcome to the Holodeck! If you choose this option, whatever your character chooses to say out loud will cause a virtual reality program to load and play. While your character feels as if what they're experiencing and seeing is quite real, they're purely living through the latest and best in what he Enterprise has to offer in entertainment. Make sure to detail what your character's fantasy is, so that those threading with them will know how to react.

Open til next month's test drive!]

Comments

[spacefaring]

He turns to face the screen himself, then glances toward Gaila, reading the familiar expression. Home, or it would be if the Captain's chair still rattled over warp four--that's mostly what he's sore about. It's the little things.

"It may look like home, but in the end it's just forcefields and light." But it is dangerous, she's right. Technology develops quickly, and what happens next? Photonic people? Photonic rights? Holodeck inspired psychoses? Photonic ships with photonic crews?

But this is a question he can answer. "The Oregon trail was the route taken by emigrants populating the west coast of North America. Two thousand two hundred miles, crossing mountains and rivers--wild country, and dangerous. A new and exciting frontier. Like space in the 22nd century."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Twenty-third century for me. Still really exciting. Wouldn't call it new exactly, but my people have been spacesailing a lot longer than you guys." Her smile is a tease, but a mild one. See how he reacts.

"And you're right. I mean not about the new thing because honestly, space is...ancient. Just with new things for us."

[spacefaring]

It's the first part that really catches his attention. Archer perks up visibly, his gaze no longer torn away by the blue marble in the viewscreen.

"So this isn't your time period either? The twenty-third century is a lot closer to home for me than the twenty-forth."

Maybe he's put it off for long enough.

"This--ah, this is home for me. Earth, yes, but also the Enterprise. She's my ship."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Oh no, I'm from 2258-"

Wait.

The original Enterprise.

That nagging sense of vague familiarity.

Captain's chair.

"Ohshit, Admiral Archer, sir! Um, sorry, I didn't...work that out."

[spacefaring]

It isn't the first time he's inspired this kind of response; he's still unsettled by it, nevermind that he's become used to it. He'd known he was making history, he'd just never expected he'd have to sign quite so many autographs.

"At ease. To tell the truth I didn't mind not being recognized for once. This is the first conversation that I've had that hasn't started with a teeth-rattling handshake." He smiles again. "It was nice."

"You grew up on Earth?" A very uncertain sounding observation, very gently trying to lift the focus away from himself.

[writes_with_digital_ink]

She looks dubious, and then nods. She understands a little of what's like to be not recognised, even if her case is a bit different.

"If you insist, sir. I'm Gaila betIlley, Cadet at Starfleet Academy. Or...I was. You know. Time-travel. Uh...Um. Kinda."

Right. Focus.

"I'm originally from the Orion system. But I got out nine years ago, and my Human foster-parents raised me after that. In New York."

[spacefaring]

"Nothing on San Francisco, but still a beautiful city."

He settles down in the pilot's seat, trying to make little effort to foster that feeling of ease. It isn't natural--talking to an Admiral rarely is, but it's worth a try.

"You're still Cadet betIlley. I doubt even Captain Picard would argue with that." Archer didn't have a read on Picard yet, but his gut instinct grounded somewhere between cautious and argumentative. Still, with more than a thousand people on his ship, and Q's interference besides, a captain couldn't be expected to be on close terms with every one of them.

"What field are you studying in?"

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Gaila thinks, very briefly, about further clarifying that she's not just in the wrong time, but also the wrong universe all together. Very briefly. She does not feel like explaining the temporal havoc and carnage caused by a group of exceedingly pissed off Romulans, nor explaining what happened to her ship of all but a few hours.

So she just bobs her head in a non-argument, and carefully takes the nearest seat.

"Computer programming, with a minor in engineering. My interest is the more theoretical side, but I thought I'd gain some practical experience in operations first."

This time, she grins.

"I'll say this for the future, sir. Catching up on all advances in my field has been fascinating."

[spacefaring]

Well it's very fortunate she doesn't choose to go into it, really, because then Archer might have to voice his own understanding, and the understanding would require an explanation as to how he understood concepts like time travel, alternate universes and alternative timelines, and getting into the realms of temporal directives and time agents and getting stuck in World War II among other things would just give him a headache. It's easier this way.

"Ops is a very challenging station. Resourcing all the power we don't have to bolster the shields, finding new innovative ways to scan for alien ships in gas clouds on the spot--you have to be able to think on your feet." He's grinning too. "Is that what you'd like to do, in the end, or is your heart in some other project?"

[writes_with_digital_ink]

The universe (or multiverse) owes them at least one very stiff drink.

"I'm not sure yet, sir." This is what is known as 'a lie'. She knows exactly where her heart is set. There is just the tiny problem of cultural conditioning of being raised as an asset who had always had to have an eye on the easily applicable and financially viable i.e. not to bury herself in design and pushing the edges of theory. She's made progress; there's still a long way to go.

"But it's the best basis for understanding how things actually work before you start breaking all the rules. And it's a hell of an adrenaline kick."

[spacefaring]

One for each century seems fair.

"Well, just keep an eye on the prize, whatever it eventually is. Sooner or later when you prove you're good at something, someone will come along and suggest you sit behind a desk and watch other people do it instead."

There's a gleam of something teasing in his expression there. Admiral Archer. As certain as the promotion was, he can't be blamed for resenting it just a little bit. There's a desk with his name on it somewhere, looming like an oppressive specter on the horizon of his future.

"So tell me one fun thing you've found out about the future since you got here." Changing the subject.

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Her answering smile is small, and amused. Touché, Admiral. Then she pulls a face at him.

"One, sir? Fine. The music. There's been cultural revolutions, and it's brilliant.

But how about you, sir? What's one thing you've found to be fun?"

[spacefaring]

Music. It's a good suggestion. In his experiences on Enterprise, he'd come into contact with various kinds of alien music, some of it beautiful, some of it harder on his ears, all of it diverse as the universe itself--and this ship is diverse, advanced. Music and technology aren't so different in that respect, they borrow themes and amalgamate it all into the greater experience.

He dips his head slightly.

"Well, I don't know about fun, but I have to admit I'm partial to the replicator system. Hot tea on demand, chocolate fudge cake, banana cream pie. It's too bad that they seem to have done away with movie nights, though."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"The menu is a lot more diverse than it was in my time. And they seem to be a lot more common, too." She's not complaining, even if the amount of food from her own sector hasn't really increased in choice yet. Maybe she'll go and flirt with one of the techs to update.

"It was a dying experience when I was at the Academy. But hey," she adds, swiveling in the science officer's chair a little, "maybe you could talk them into starting it up again. I mean-" Now she's back on her feet, hands moving quickly.

"This. The holodeck. You could turn it into a theatre, so you have the big screen with the retro curtains where the window is at the moment. Put on all the classics."

[spacefaring]

Well, it's good to know technology is moving quickly. Space travel on freeze dried ration packs and whatever chef can rustle up is a hard way to get around the galaxy.

At her suggestion he rubs his jaw briefly with the knuckle of his thumb, then gestures, points up into thin air.

"You know what, that isn't a half bad idea. I bet I could get Captain Picard to agree to something like that, maybe schedule it in properly. There's a whole lot of people around here it might help settle in--not that any of us should be settling in. Do you know anything about this Q guy?"

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Gaila regards him for a moment, linking her hands in front of her. Then she shrugs a little, her bright blue eyes glancing away briefly.

"Only what the crew have told me. He likes to play tricks on this ship. Sometimes it's a test, but mostly it's just because it amuses him.

But...unlike other here, I do have to settle. My ship was being destroyed when I was pulled her. So I owe this Q my life."

[spacefaring]

"That sounds intentional to me, like his intention may be to play us off each other. I'm sure the captain is bargaining for us to be sent back to where we belong as we speak."

He grimaces, though, ducks his head in the same gesture of apology as before.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your ship. Were you attacked by something? Someone?"

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Someone," she says, quietly. "It was a trap."

It's remarkable how interesting her thumbs are at this moment, really.

"And I think you'll excuse me for saying so, sir, but I have no intention of being sent back just to be actually blown up."

Then she smiles.

"I can see it being intentional. We're a very interesting collection of people."

[spacefaring]

He nods, choosing to stay quiet in sympathetic understanding of her words. She'd resist it the same way that anyone could be expected to. And besides, it wouldn't be like an Orion not to balk at the idea of not having control over her own destiny.

But she smiles, and he finds himself impressed by her internal strength. Her determination. His sadness emerges into a sad, thoughtful smile all his own.

"Anything to make the situation more explosive, I'm sure. But if that is the case, if chaos is his intention, then I'm admittedly surprised Q didn't bring half the crew of a Klingon cruiser on board."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Ha! But maybe that's too predictable a chaos? This way you have people from all kinds of places, bringing different weapons and wants. And then when people are sent back...

Oh, wow," she winces. "That spreads the ripple-effects across time and different dimensions."

[spacefaring]

"When people are sent back..."

Archer pales. People taking knowledge of this experience back to their worlds and realities would be more dangerous than anything that might transpire here. Is it possible that this being would be so reckless, so careless with the threads of the multi-universe? Multiverse?

The smile is gone. His worried eyes flick across the Enterprise's bridge, and his hand goes to his temple.

"From what I understand, information like that could destroy reality itself--everything we know about our worlds, the future."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Well.

"It might? Okay, like. From what people from my version of reality have said, that...happened to us. Someone came from the future and changed our timeline from, well. This one. Vulcan still exists in this reality. It doesn't any more where I came from.

So maybe that'll happen here? Not destruction, but timelines changing and alternate realities happening."

[spacefaring]

Okay, that's up there with being the most horrifying thing he's heard so far. Vulcan has been destroyed in her reality? Vulcan? But not this one. It's...confusing. In his experiences with the future, fixing a mistake in a timelines caused it to cease existing--or at least he had assumed that Earth's destruction no longer happened. Was she saying that in some reality, somewhere, that timelines was still running, Earth but a dusty graveyard?

"But--which one is my future? This one or yours? Or are both of them still the future?"

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Maybe both? Or neither? The events that changed my timeline had nothing to do with you."

A certain troubled Romulan, yes. Influential Human, no.

At least, not that Human.

(Dammit, Kirk.)

"So maybe in both of these, you went to the future and came back and proceeded anyway because that's your timeloop. Or maybe you'll go back and...cause a third future. Sometimes more than one timeline can exist, depending on the parameters."

[spacefaring]

"You'll have to forgive me. This sort of temporal science is such a new field in the 22nd century that I had trouble convincing my First Officer to buy any of it. To tell you the truth, the ins and outs of it just tend to make my head hurt. I'd much rather stick to a linear existence, but sometimes life just isn't that simple."

He surrenders, dropping his hand away from his face with a sigh.

"It is what it is. Maybe this is all a part of Q's game too. I can't believe I'm saying this but--I hope he knows what he's doing."