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Part of USS Seattle: Even Better Than The Real Thing

Give Me One Last Chance To Slide Off The Surface Of Things

USS Seattle
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[Bridge]

 

There had been no scenario gamed out about what happened if the USS Seattle lost the majority of its senior staff. Thus despite being the highest ranking the Chief Operations Officer Lieutenant Commander Tashai was willing to let the Chief Science Officer Lieutenant Wushborn Debud take charge for the moment. While she had feelings and senses about what was happening she was not willing to change that into anything actionable and this was a Science problem, as much as it was a problem that the USS Seattle’s crew could solve at all. When childlike god-type creatures got involved, whether it was the Q Continuum or whatever collective of power and privilege lay on the planet below it was often best to hold your own counsel and not make things worse. Thus she took a seat silently as Wushburn updated the rest of the crew about what was happening.

It did not take the empathic abilities of either Tashai or Chief Counselor Lieutenant Kolem to tell that the crew were tired and frustrated. There was nothing to be done, other than wait for the away team from the USS Casanova to complete their mission, and nothing that they could think of doing was helping in anyway. A counselor could not counsel missing patients, an engineer could not fix missing systems, and everything had happened largely without the Seattle’s involvement. As the remainder of the crew gave their assesments for their departments most everyone just shrugged. Nothing was broken exactly, just missing. Simply ‘not there’ left very little for Engineering or Operations to do.

”No vital systems have been taken,” Lieutenant Kolem said, “perhaps because the aliens value play. Each section has been a play area, a recreation area save for the main conference room though I will point out that Commander Cruz was in her holodeck costume when she was there.”

Wushburn nodded, “Similarly on the Casanova they had the same areas taken, save for their conference room. A Nova class ship is similar to ours, but it’s notable that not a single vital system has been removed. The aliens are at least not wanting to kill us, yet.”

”They probably could take a room with a vital system without killing us,“ Tashai said, “Young am I mistaken the rooms aren’t gone exactly just not there any longer?”

Chief Engineer Lieutenant Young nodded, “That’s correct, it’s not like there’s empty space there, we just can’t access them, or enter them, or get any readings from them. But you couldn’t stick something else in our former conference room, for example.”

”Meaning we no longer perceive the spaces, rather than they no longer exist?” Tashai asked.

Young shrugged, “It’s a possibility. Something advanced enough to fool the computer is possible. Violates a few fewer laws of physics too.”

Wushburn nodded, “Let’s hope the Casanova’s away team hurries up then. We’ll keep working on our own solution.”

 


 

[Conference Room 1 – ?]

 

Captain Nathanial Hawthorne adjusted his tie. Neither of them understood the specifics of how this simulation was playing out in a room with no holoemiters, or capacity the kind of technology that one found on the holodeck. Still he was willing to roll with it, given that they seemed to have no other way out and no choice in the matter. At least Commander Cruz his First Officer and the reason he was in this mess, seemed to be having a good time. This was her holoprogram come to life after all and while he was sure she would report being concerned with their inability to contact the rest of the ship, and the fact that this was all very much out of theit control she was having a blast. Given that she was one of the best and brightest in Starfleet, and a someone so focused on their work, it seemed unusual to see her having a good time. Not that she should be immune to fun, but Starfleet careers did not always lend themselves to robust personal lives, as his own single status could attest. There was not bowling league, no Vulcan chess, no Klingon opera for him, just the fleet.

He ducked behind the Aston Martin an old type of classic car that featured heavily in this adventure. It blocked the bullets from the spies trying to shoot them, and Hawthorne heard them clang against the metal. He realized that he did not know if this simulation had safety controls something the holodeck has but the conference room (being a conference room) did not. It would be pretty embarrassing to put on his record that he’d been shot by a Russian spy in a simulation. Cruz stood and fired off her revolver, getting to play the action hero while he played the role of the damsel in distress.

He had never shot a physical bullet from a gun, but assumed the was roughly similar to firing off a phaser. Which combined with the some what make believe nature of the simulation, setting everything in a factionalized version of the past, allowed the Commander to finish off their attackers with four well placed shots. 

No longer being shot at Captain Hawthorne stood up and brushed himself off, “We can get on the ship, get back to London now.”

That seemed to be their objective, a trip back to London and then the simulation was over, or was it? He was not sure how it was programmed, just as he was unsure of how it was even running.

Pointing to the ship which was down the dock about two hundred yards Cruz nodded pulling out the reel-to-reel tape that they were protecting and transporting to the British government. She smiled, “Let’s go.”

Finding out what happened next seemed less important to her than their fake mission, but then again she was the reason they’d managed to complete their simulated mission so quickly. Hawthorne, for all his talk of living a rough and tumble childhood in New York had grown accustomed to the modern conveniences aboard even a less Starfleet vessel like the USS Anaheim his old ship. 

The ship in question was not the Anaheim, or even the Seattle, but an old style twenthieth century steam ship with the pair booked into a single room. As it pulled out of Lisbon’s harbor and headed north they settled into their room, relieved that it seemed that no further attempt would be made on their lives.

”I can’t wait to get back to my ship,” Hawthorne said.

Cruz shrugged, “This was fun though.”

”I think you had more fun than I did, I just watched you kick a bunch of guys,” joked Hawthorne loosening his tie.

”Because apparently I can’t kick people in day to day settings,” Cruz laughed.

Hawthorne nodded, “The problems of command. Look it’s up to you if we tell people about us or stop it, but we can’t have our cake and eat it to.”

Cruz nodded, she seemingly understood that but was relcutant for various reasons to put her career on the line for a guy like him. Hawthorne knew he was likely more a port in the storm for her than anything serious. She was young, dynamic, and her career unlike his was going places. He had likely risen as high as he was going, she’d be an admiral one day if things played out right.

“Okay, I’ll think on it. Deal,” she said, it was as good an offer as he was going to get. His career had likely reached its high point, command of a moderately useful starship doing exciting work for Starfleet, hers was still on the rise.

Cruz still in her red dress, straddled his leg as he sat on the bed, bent down and kissed him. He kissed her and pulled her towards him, as they tumbled backwards and onto the bed.

 


 

[USS Seattle]

 

Lieutenant Young saw the ship schematic change. Something had turned, it was the conference room tapping his badge he called for the rest of the senior staff then headed there hoping to find the Captain and First Officer in one piece. This was the first bit of the ship that had ‘returned’ such as it was.

The small group assembled outside of the conference room hurriedly and opened the door to find their Captain and First Officer in a tuxedo and dress and more importantly kissing. Lieutenant Young scratched his head, glad that they were alive and not really caring about the other thing. 

“One back,“ he said as the two missing officers turned a look of surprise on their faces at their surroundings which where the ship’s conference room and not a steam liner in a bygone era. 

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