Captain’s Log: After a tense mission preventing the Cardassians from a shoot out with a pre-warp civilization the USS Seattle is escorting a Nova Class ship on a planetary survey. Unless the USS Casanova has something go wrong, we won’t have much to do other than to idle next to them and look intimidating. While this is not the most exciting assignment that I could think of for the crew, it is an opportunity for some down time. 

 

I will be meeting with Counselor Kolem to get a handle on the senior team, and learn more about what the crew needs. Meanwhile I’ve given more of the rest of the senior team the time off, as they can quickly jump onto the bridge if needed. 

 

I understand there’s two fairly elaborate Holodeck programs going on currently.

[ Holodeck 1]

The large Andorian looked down at his clothing and shifted uncomfortably. It was clear that he was not used to suits, and jackets. Much less tuxedos. Kan Th’kaotross made a face that reflected his displeasure, “And we are sure we want to do this, set on earth in this time frame?”

”It’s perfect it’s late nineteenth century earth golf, before they added tackling,” said Lieutenant Eleanor Dorian in her Irish accent. 

“I don’t think they ever added tackling,” Lieutenant Claudia Jara said. The two Strategic Operations officers seemed, at least to Thakotross, to come as a packaged deal. Rarely there was one without the other Lieutenant close by. It was almost good to see them disagree about old Earth sports so that they could prove that they somehow were not sharing a Borg hive mind.

His Assistant Chief Security Officer Lieutenant Junior Grade William Hume swung a golf club made of wood, “Come on it’s going to be fun. Besides good bonding. Competing against Strat Ops.”

Kan Th’kaotross made a ‘hmmp’ sound, and then nodded, “Fine. Let us play. Though I will point out that as a Andorian I have a disadvantage, you people designed this sport.”

“I’ve never played,” Jara said, not saying what she did instead of golf in her youth.

[Captain’s Ready Room]

”May I raise a difficult subject with you sir,” Conscelor Kolem asked nervously.

Hawthorne looked up from his coffee setup, “Yes, and are you sure you don’t want a cup?”

”No, thank you,” Kolem said, “Umm, well and this is all just hypothetical. But if I were serving aboard a ship and I learned that a Captain and a First Officer were romantically involved, well sir I’d be obliged to report that they were. Hypothetically of course.”

Hawthorne paused and then carried on with grinding the coffee beans,  “Ah, I see. Hypnothetically.”

Kolem nodded, “And of course everyone on the ship is worthy of love and deserve companionship if that’s what they want. Which is why even Captains are allowed to date, as long as they fill out the forms, and make a note of it. Famously Riker and his wife obviously served together.”

“Troi,” Hawthorne said.

”Right,“ Kolem said, hating having to invoke the name during a conversation. She was compared enough to Troi without her bringing up the woman, who she’d never met. She paused and wished that this was not something she needed to bring up, “I just wanted to note that, sir, not as a threat or anything. Just as a hypothetical observation.”

Hawthorne nodded, and finished with the beans. He knew that Kolem would figure it out sooner or later, the rest of the crew had not noticed, he was pretty sure, but sooner or later having even half a Betazoid on, was trouble if you were going to be sleeping with your First Officer. They’d never intended to keep going, which was why they’d never filled out the forms. He doubted Cruz would want to, but then they’d be back to not filling them out and back sliding.

”I understand and appreciate the hypothetical note,” he said, “now more on topic how are the crew settling with a new senior staff, and a smaller crew?”

He poured the beans into the paper and put it into the pour over funnel.

”So far the crew seems good. Obviously a smaller ship like this, we’re forming closer bonds quicker. Since we’re not returning to starbase as often people are forming those bonds on the ship, as opposed to off it. Hence there’s a lot more inter-crew dating that there was on the Anaheim. I’m not an Engineer and don’t have numbers but I’d say roughly a third of the crew is dating amounts themselves,“ Kolem said, “Which is partially a result of many of them, us, being young and single.”

Hawthorne nodded, “Does it present a problem?”

”I don’t think so, not yet. This happens on a ship. We’re all professionals, we can work it out without it being an issue for you to tackle,” Kolem said.

Scratching his bead with one hand Hawthorne picked up the kettle, “Okay. Anything I should be worried about?”

[Holodeck 2]

”So am I a vampire of a werewolf?” Lieutenant Yi Zhang asked.

”Neither this is a mid-twentieth century spy novel. We’re British agents, not vampires,” Commander Adriana Cruz said, feeling like she had been explaining the scenario a lot and they had not even started yet.

”So do I sleep with the beautiful Russian spy?” Thomas Winfield asked, looking at the non-player character extras in the simulated casino.

“They are most illogical,” Doctor Va’Tok said shuffling about.

”Indeed,“ Lieutenant Pr’Nor agreed.

”No he’s right, actually,” Cruz said, “Gratuitous sex was a part of spy thrillers of that era.”

”Ah,” Va’Tok said, looking suddenly awkward.

“So are we all the spy?” Winfield asked, the pilot stretching in his tuxedo as he looked around the simulated setting.

“We all have different jobs, or we’ll all pick a job. Tech person, spy,” Cruz explained, feeling that maybe for this group she had made things too complicated in her program. Suddenly her commbadge chirped.

”Commander Cruz to my ready room,” the Captain’s voice came from her badge which was hidden on her dress. 

Sighing she excused herself, “I’ll be back, you start. Divide up the tasks.”

”We do not even know what the tasks are,” Doctor Va’Tok said as the archway vanished and the Commander was gone.

[Bridge]

Washborn Dedub glanced at the main viewscreen and ran another scan. A Nova Class ship was way better at scanning, and there was likely nothing that he would pick up using the Seattle’s equipment that they had not picked up half an hour ago. Still it gave him something to do as the bridge watch officer, other than observe Commander Cruz enter the Captain’s Ready Room wearing a dress.

He ran another scan, suddenly he noticed something. A sudden surge of energy from the planet below. It shot up and engulfed both ships, and that’s when things started getting weird. Walking to his control panel he found that gone were the scientific instruments of the science station and instead it was replaced with a soft serve ice cream machine.

He quickly made his way to the Captain’s ready room to find that it was now a jungle, with the Captain and First Officer climbing over vines and tree roots. 

“What’s going on?” Hawthorne said.

”We were just hit with a burst of energy from the planet,” Dedub said.

The Captain climbed out of his office, “Hail the Casanova.”

A frantic looking science officer appeared on the screen, “Sir.”

”What’s going on?” Hawthorne asked the junior officer, “Where is Captain Thomas?”

”Umm she’s a balloon sir,” the science officer said.

”Sorry?”

”Our best guess right now is that our away team trigged something. We’re trying to re-establish contact with them now,” the man said. 

“Okay Dedub, work with the Casanova to find a solution. We’ll get the senior staff into the conference room for an update in an hour,” the Captain said.

[Conference Room 1]

”What do you mean gone?” Hawthorne was finding the day increasingly taxing. He was used to straight forward problems, not whatever this was. This was some kind of magic, or Q or something beyond his control. Heck his counterpart on the Casanova was now a balloon, and that was not something that he wanted to happen to him. 

James Young the Lieutenant and Chief Engineering Officer nodded, “There is no rooms where the Holodecks were. They’re just gone, along with the people inside.”

Doctor T’Rala who was there in place of her boss Doctor Va’Tok the Chief Medical Officer who had been in one of those Holodecks nodded, “This energy is enhancing beyond our comprehension our neocortex and thalamus. Whatever it’s done is supercharging our imaginations.”

This was the kind of thing that was not covered in any training session that Starfleet held, or any of the literature to prepare you for being a Captain. It was also not something that he’d encountered in his career so he had nothing to guide him.

Lieutenant Washbrone Dedub provided the science update, “Sir, the Casanova’s away team thinks that they may have something. A local ritual that will appease the gods, but they are working on it as we speak. Ideally we don’t have to do anything.”

”I don’t like just letting another ship save us, keep looking at solutions and Lieutenant Kolem do what you can to limit the crew from making anything else on this ship disappear or turn into an ice cream machine,” Hawthorne said.

”Will do sir,” Kolem said, not sure if that was within her power as a Counsellor. The human mind did not work that way. Tell someone not to think of pink elephants and that’s all that they’d think about.

”Dismissed,” Hawthorn said tiredly as the small crew left the room.

”Well, that went about as expected,” Commander Cruz, still in her dress from the holodeck said.

”At least you got out of the holodeck before it vanished,” Hawthorne said.

”Not that I’m much help,” Cruz said.

”Kolem knows. About us, by the way. She’s made it clear we need to end it or tell Starfleet,” Hawthrone said, “She’s going to keep quiet for now, but I don’t know how long she can do that.”

Cruz sighed, “We should end it then.”

Hawthorne nodded, “Okay.”

It was not what he’d have picked but he had to respect her right to make this choice for herself and protect her career. She stood moving to the door, there was nothing more to say he figured, it was not like she had moved stuff into his cabin or had any personal effects to deal with. They were just, people who worked together. It was, likely for the best.

As Cruz approached the door it vanished, gone as if no door had ever been built. When she turned around the Captain was sitting there in a tuxedo that would have belonged in her holodeck spy simulation and not his duty uniform. He seemed surprised and tried to find his comm badge. 

“Computer,” he said giving up with communicators, “contact Young and tell him to get us out of here.”

There was no answer. Cruz swore and banged loudly on the wall which itself seemed to dissolve beneath her fists into the opulence of a 20th century casino in Europe.  This was definitely not getting them on track.

“Well since we’re here,” Hawthorne said straightening his tuxedo as he stood, “Let’s go see what’s being offered.”

[Engineering]

Half of the ship no longer seemed to exist, which was a problem. Nothing vital yet, and the vanished rooms had not been replaced with space collapsing into them, which was nice Thus far, apart from apparently not existing, this event of whatever they might call it was more annoying than fatal. Lieutenant Young had tasked his officers with a bunch of nearly impossible things, like finding the senior staff in the holodecks and now the Captain and First Officer who had also vanished.

He had done the inventory and was now pretty sure he was the acting First Officer under Tashai who was in Operations. It was not how he wanted this day to go.

Nor did he like working with a Romulan leaning against the console in full Tal Sh’air gear. He looked again at T’Rala the Assistant Chief Medical Officer who shot him a ‘what I didn’t do this‘ look. It was not her fault, he knew, she had not dressed like a Romulan spy, someone had imagined something racist about her and then now she appeared as one. It was the way this worked.

”You know you could be doing medical stuff,” he said.

”I don’t know what to do,” she protested, “How do you cure imagination, turn everyone into the Borg?”

In Young’s mind it was not a bad option at this point. It was only a matter of time before someone imagined away the life support system or the gravity. Lieutenant Commander Tashai was on the bridge helping to coordinate this with the Casanova’s XO who was part of the away team and had thus far been unaffected. Unfortunately if they could not stop this, the Seattle would be out of officers very soon.

“Why do you hang out here,” he asked, doing another check on everything.

”I said we’re friends, besides medical is just clown shoes right now. There’s nothing I can do if you turn into a plant or something,” she said.

Young grumbled, “People are going to start thinking there’s something going on between us.”

T’Rala smirked, “Between the nerdy engineer and the lovely Romulan spy?”

”You’re not a Romulan spy,” Young said.

T’Rala teased, “That you know of.“

Young grabbed her by the arm and dragged her behind him roughly into his office. She went along with the forceful gesture even though she could have put a stop to it easily. He closed the door and pointed a finger at her, “This is why people think that. You joke about it, it’s not a joke. You have to be serious.”

”People see the ears and the rest of me and make up their mind,“ T’Rala said, ”It’s not about joking. People just suck. Humans, Vulcans, Andorians, even Romulans. They all suck.”

Young held a finger up, “Just knock off this spy nonsense.”

”Why do you care, we’re not even friends according to you,” T’Rala shot back.

“I do care,” Young said.

”Prove it,” T’Rala taunted him.

Young kissed her.

Counselor’s log supplemental. With large portions of the ship missing we’re assuming that they’re in pocket dimensions, or at least that is the hope. The USS Casanova and their away team are leading the efforts to restore out reality to normal but for now with the vanishing of the Captain and First Officer, and the Second Officer Lieutenant Commander Tashai is in charge with Lieutenant Washborn taking the First Officer role. 

Given that Lieutenant Junior Grade William Hume has been taken, along with the holodecks, I am not objective about this, but then so many crew have been taken that few of us are. At the very least this is a disaster if it’s not corrected, a fairly simple mission bungled through no fault of the Seattle’s own. The main desire at this point though is to get our people, and my boyfriend, back from nothingness. We’ll deal with the fall out later.

[? – Conference Room]

”So we’re spies,” Captain Hawthorne asked.

”Well if this is my holodeck program then yes,” Cruz said, “This is based on old twentieth century spy novels and movies that I used to enjoy.”

“But we were in the conference room, not the holodeck and well frankly I didn’t think you liked stuff like spy novels,” Hawthorne said.

”First I don’t know, all we know is that these aliens seem to appreciate immagination and play. Secondly I contain multitudes, I can like spy stuff it I want,” Cruz shot back, approaching a man she smiled, “I’m Cruz, Adriana Cruz. I’m here for the package.”

The man who acted just like a holodeck NPC eyed her and nodded, “Here. Don’t let the Russians have it.”

Commander Cruz took the envelope and nodded seriously.

”You can like spy stuff, you just never mentioned it,” Captain Hawthorne protested, “And also you look good in that dress.”

”I know. You look good in a tuxedo,” Cruz returned the compliment as she folded the envelope so she could stash it in her dress, “Look about the forms, and dating, we can try if we survive this. I think you’re right, we’re going to keep making the same dumb mistakes.”

”I’m not thrilled about being called a dumb mistake, but I’ll take the win,” Hawthorne said. 

“Chere,“ a man with an exaggerated French accent said, approaching. He also wore a tuxedo and reached down and kissed Cruz’s hand which made her giggle even though she designed both him and the interaction that was playing out just now, “You are as lovely as they say, but are you as cunning?”

Hawthorne clearned his throat, “This is really, umm, revealing. Look guy. I don’t think we need what you’re selling.”

The man glanced at Hawthorne as if just seeing him, a behaviour that the two crew recognized from NPC characters on the holodeck, where the computer was not sure if someone was taking part in the play. His eyes focused on the Captain and he glowered.

”And who is this Chere? Miss Cruz wishes me jealous, and uses this Yankee brute to do it?” he scoffed, Hawthorne did not even really know what scoffing was but he was pretty sure that the French man had just done it.

”I started working on this program when I was a Lieutenant, it may be rough,” Cruz apologized or explained. Hawthorne doubted that casinos of the time looked too much like this. This was opulence at defined by from vantage point hundreds of years in the future. The 1950s were not, but nature a period of great wealth in Europe and most of the money had come from the United States and the Marshall Plan, but then again as a young woman from Mexico in the 2300s it had been hard for Cruz to know better.

Even if she wanted to be seen as a highly accomplished officer in Starfleet, who could handle anything, Hawthorne was actually glad to see a human side of her. Even when they’d enjoyed private time together she had been almost… Vulcan like in her efficiency. 

“Whzy is zee smiling?” the French man asked, puzzled.

”Ignore him Pierre, tell me what Blowhard wants,” Cruz said.

”Blowhard?” Hawthorne had not heard the evil big bad’s name before this, and was having trouble not laughing, it was just so… bad. Clearly this was not her forte, and it was actually endearing how bad this was. He ignored the Frenchman and went to the bar ordering a scotch. The drink was actually pretty good, perhaps even real and not synthahol. It was hard to say, but he was willing to enjoy it however he could.

Pierre, the French man who was so stereotypical he would have made Jean-Luc Picard spin around in his grave, if he weren’t still alive, looked at Cruz and nodded, “He wants something that the Russians are trying to get for him an envelope with the banking code.”

“The banking code,” Cruz said as if he knew what he was talking about, which Hawthorne realized she must have due to the fact that she had made it up in the first place. It was likely some MacGuffin that gave the bad guy control of the world’s money or something, all the money. It was actually kind of innocent and sweet that she’d share this with the crew.

Cruz went over to Hawthorne, “We need to find the Americans, they can help us. If this banking code gets in the hands of Blowhard, he’ll bring the world to its knees.”

Hawthorne finished his drink, deciding to play along, “Okay, let’s roll.”

That sounded properly old timey right?

[Engineering]

Lieutenant James Young was not a scientist. His engineers worked the way they were meant to, and unless someone took them like they had the holodecks, conference room, and now the Lounge, he was pretty sure that the Seattle’s were in perfect order. It was odd working on a ship that had as much in common with Swiss cheese (a bunch of holes in it) as standard Starfleet design. Thus far the missing areas had not affected the ship, a fact he conveyed to Lieutenant Washborn.

The science officer made a unsatisfied sound, as if that did not fit into his thinking, but there was nothing Young could do about it. Given that this was technically a ’science’ issue, Washborn had been in charge of the ship given how many of the senior staff was away. Tashai was also about but far less active, or commanding as the science officer even if Young felt this fell more within the ancient officer’s wheelhouse.

”Again I can’t suggest anything, it’s not like I have extra holodecks to swap in,” Young explained feeling that this issue was well beyond their ability to control. It was going to have to fall on the USS Casanova’s away team to negotiate something before either of the ships lost a part of the ship that they needed. Like life support.

Lieutenant Kolem stepped in playing the peace maker, “Look we’re all at wits end, anything you can suggest?”

Young sighed, “Nothing, I’m barely keeping the ship together as it is. Like we should be scattered into a thousand pieces, but we’re not, none of it makes sense. We’ve lost whole chunks but the ship’s structural integrity hasn’t gone down. It’s more like rooms are there, we just can’t see them.”

“What was Commander Cruz wearing?” T’Rala asked, the senior staff had gathered in the Engineering department, or what was left of the senior staff.

”I think it was her holodeck costume,” Kolem answered.

”So we lost two holodecks, and a room with a holodeck participant. The aliens seem to be targeting, imagination, play,” T’Rala said.

Young looked at the ship schematics skeptically, “Okay, so stop using recreation areas until we solve this. The good news is that none of the remaining areas would contain anything vital to the ship, but again I don’t think we can keep losing chunks of the ship normally.”

”I’ll contact the Casanova and see if their missing sections correspond,” Washborn Dedub said.

”Now we just need to figure our how to get them back,” Kolem said.

[? – Holodeck 2]

After waiting about ten minutes for Commander Cruz to return and resume the game, the crew in Holodeck 2 tried to call her only to discover that the computer no longer responded to their communications. Not arch could be summoned, no game play could be paused, and there was no communication with the outside world. They had no way to get out, and as far as they knew the rest of the crew had no way to get into the game. It was not even something that they could science their way out of, since no panels could be found that they could alter. Everything was as if they were in a twentieth century casino.

”It would seem only logical that we play along with the intended narrative,” Lieutenant Pr’Nor said.

Not everyone bought that, particularly her Assistant Chief Thomas Winfield, but given that none of them had a better idea. That is what they did, which is how they ended up playing poker, a game that apparently Doctor Va’Tok was exceptionally good at cheating at.

”I am counting the cards, please do not distract me,” he said to Lieutenant Junior Grade William Hume as the man watched the dealer shuffle. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that,” Hume pointed out.

”The simulation seems to ignore asides between us, but yes, you are correct. I would think that deception of a sort was appropriate here,” Va’Tok said. Like many Vulcans he did not encourage or approve of deceit but then this was a simulation.

”May I make a personal inquiery?” Va’Tok asked since it was just the two of them and the computer players at the table. The rest of the team had gone off to exchange a reel-to-reel tape with someone from Russia.

”I guess, yeah,” Hume said, unsure of what this was about.

”Do you and Lieutenant Kolem find your relationship to be both emotionally and physically satisfying?” he asked.

”Umm, that’s quite a question, but yeah we’re happy,” Hume said, not quite sure what the Vulcan was getting at. 

“Curious, while you are physically equal to Lieutenant Kolem you would seem to be her emotional inferior, and yet she seems to like you,” he said.

”Says the Vulcan,” Hume shot back annoyed.

”Case in point. I am not suggesting myself as a more suitable options, just pointing out that she has qualities that you do not. Yet she still seems to like you,” the Doctor said.

”You‘re fun,” Hume muttered.

”I am making an observation, and comparing your situation to mine. Logically I should romantically purse Pr’Nor, as she is also Vulcan, but she is with Lieutenant Commander Tashai and that is a vexing relationship. But then Tashai is vexing. Never the less, it leaves me unsure of how to conduct a romantic or social life.”

”Don’t Vulcans usually, you know, go back to Vulcan and have arranged marriages,” Hume asked.

”I had one set up, but we are both Starfleet Doctors, and it was too logistically difficult. We ended it via sub-space and mutual consent,” Doctor Va’Tok said.

”How about  T’Rala?” Hume asked.

”She is my direct report, such a relationship would be problematic. Also we do not get along, in that way,” was the diplomatic answer the Vulcan provided as he played three sixes and won the hand. Gathering up the chips into his growing pile.

A man with a thick Austrian accent stood up from the table, “I think you’re cheating.”

”I am only counting cards,” Va’Tok said.

”Cheat,“ another Austrian player said as he too stood up. Hume looked around nervously noticing that the other players were not standing and encircling them.

”Umm, Va’Tok, we should go,” he said.

”No, I believe this is the part of the story where we fight,” Va’Tok replied hitting one of the men with a left hook. 

Hume swore and tackled one of the men, wrapping his arms around his midsection and diving to the ground. Soon the fight was growing larger, and encompassing more tables in the casino. It was not historically accurate.

[? – Holodeck 2]

“This is illogical,” Pr’Nor observed, “studies have been conducted in the effectiveness of torture and have shown it to be a useless way of obtaining information.”

Tied back-to-back on a pair of chairs Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas Winfield was not sold. Whether or not this was a ‘logical‘ way of extracting information from the pair of Starfleet officers they seemed to be tied up and hung upside down, regardless of whether they were going to be particularly useful reporters on where their allies were. A tall and beefy Russian kicked the chair and barked at them in his native tongue, and the chairs went spinning making Winfield slightly dizzy.

”I don’t think he cares,” he noted to his Vulcan Commanding Officer the Chief Flight Control Officer Pr’Nor.

Pr’Nor seemed almost insulted by the laziness of such a thing, “If I was endeavoring to take over the world, I would put more care into my actions.”

“Well next time you do, I’ll be there to give notes,” Winfield said, as they continued to spin.

”Where is the tape?” the Russian man demanded in accented English.

”Given that we become useless to you as soon as we tell you, our longevity is enhanced by not telling you,” Pr’Nor replied, “Besides Vulcans are good at handling pain.”

”What about me?” Winfield asked, they were not sure if the safety protocols still worked given that the ship’s computer had stopped responding to them hours ago. 

“It is called bravado Mister Winfield,” Pr’Nor said, “I believe this situation calls for it as a convention of the genre.”

Being trapped in a second rate twentieth century spy thriller that he couldn’t get out of was bad enough but to be paired up with his boss and a Vulcan and there was nothing to fly. This was shaping up to be a bad day, and it had started out so well. He fumbled with the ropes, trying to loosen them to no avail.

Suddenly as if on que the side door exploded inwards and in rushed Lieutenant Yi Zhang and Lieutenant Commander Kan Th’kaotross. They both had old style projectile fire arms and opened fire, killing many of the guards who had just appeared seemingly out of nowhere as if the Holodeck had to pay for extras. The large Andorian’s gun jammed so he went one-on-one with their Russian torturer, which Winfield assumed was part of the script. Yi Zhang was holding his own against two and sometimes three men who had not been given names, a way of identifying them as extras.

Pr’Nor and Winfield continued to spin helplessly Still tied upside down to their wooden chairs. It was humiliating, especially when he realized that they were the damsel in distress and Kan Th’kaotross was the one now cast as the heroic spy now that Commander Cruz had left. Great, the Andorian would never live that down.

It was pretty obvious who was going to win, and eventually the horde of guards pulled back and Th’kaotross was able to deal with the singular Russian torturer. When he and Yi Zhang surveyed the area they were beaming, flush with adrenaline as an exciting Holodeck adventure had just played out. 

Yi Zhang worked to untie the ropes that held his fellow Star Fleet Officers.

”Come on,” Th’kaotross said, “we have to hurry to London.”

”Aren’t we in Lisbon?” Winfield asked rubbing his wrists as he got up from the ground where he’d fallen in a pile once Yi Zhang had undone the ropes that bound him and Pr’Nor.

”I think so yeah,” Yi Zhang said.

”Well then we’ll need a plane,” flying a plane, that would make all this worthwhile. Expecting a cut to a plane or a cockpit or something Winfield remained motionless for a second, and then sighed, looks like they’d have to find one.

”We should get Doctor Va’Tok and Lieutenant Hume first,” Th’kaotross said, ”we need to stick together.”

”Next time I pick the program,” Winfield grumbled, as the four of them went to find a car to take them to the casino where they had left the pair gambling.

[Engineering]

Chief Engineering Officer James Young replaced an isolinear chip. It was difficult doing this sort of upkeep on the engines when large chunks of his new ship were missing. Yet he’d approached the problem from every way that he could, and now the best was to go about solving it was to take his mind off it and let it work on it as a kind of background process. This was not an engineering problem, exactly, it was a strange godlike aliens had taken his stuff problem, and he had to trust that the away team from the USS Casanova knew what they were going.

“Don’t you have sick people,” he asked Lieutenant T’Rala who was leaning against a console watching him work. Kissing her had been impulsive, and had apparently been taken as an invitation to his engineering room more than just being on the ship seemed to be an invitation to her about anything.

The Assistant Chief Medical Officer shrugged, “A third of the crew has vanished without a trace, we’re not dealing with an illness. I have time, besides watching you fret is soothing, your face crinkles up.”

Young sighed, he was worried. He did not like having the people he was in charge of keeping alive vanish on him, and he did not like having his ship anything less than pristine. Although he’d only been in charge of the USS Seattle for a short period of time, it mattered to him what kind of condition it was in. He could hardly return to Starbase 72 with no conference room, holodecks, lounge, and now gymnasium. Yet getting them back was out of his control, at least for now.

”I’m not mocking you,“ T’Rala said, the Romulan watching almost Vulcan like, “I find it endearing. You’re good at your job, it’s interesting when you run up against a problem you can’t engineer your way out of.“

Young ignored her but wondered if she meant herself as well. He was not sure what to do with her, and her clear fascination with him. From declaring the two of them friends to hanging around all the time, it was awkward. Not unpleasant though, he wouldn’t say that. It was just not the sort of attention he was used to, and sometimes it felt like he was more like a science project for the doctor than anything else.

His Commbadge, along with T’Rala’s chimed, and Wushborn Dedub’s voice came out of it, “Senior Staff to the bridge.”

Placing the new chip in its place he glanced at the dark haired Assistant Medical Chief, “I guess we’re needed.”

”Hopefully we still have a bridge,” T’Rala laughed.

”Don’t say things like that,” Young said as they headed for the turbolift. 

[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. 

[Captain’s Ready Room] 

Captain Nathanial Hawthorne felt better after a shower and change into a uniform. He figured that he would likely feel even better after a cup of coffee and so was hand grinding some beans in his fussy method that was a lot more involved than simply demanding one via the replicator which was instant. Lieutenants Debub and Young sat in his guest chairs watching him, not saying anything about the involved coffee preparation. It was not as if haste was going to save them at this point anyway.

”So we assume the conference room returned because Commander Cruz and I finished the simulation,” Hawthorne said.

”That’s our assumption sir,” Washburn Debub said.

The Captain nodded, putting the now ground beans into a paper filter. He then looked at the kettle, checking to see if the water was boiling at the right temperature, and then pouring it over the beans in a swirling pattern. Making the coffee the old fashioned way was his only real vice, the only thing that he did to deviate from the norm, his only vice really, at least when the ship was not in spaceport. That meant that the rest might return when it was done the simulations that they were partaking in, though he had not idea what that meant for the lounge of the gym.

”The Casanova reports one of their two Holodecks has returned, the same situation,” Debub said.

There was no way to communicate with the lost crew members, so they was no way to hurry the process. Currently the working theory was that the aliens on the planet below had wanted to see some examples of humans (and other races) at play. For now they were operating under the assumption that none of this was malicious, as the away team from the Casanova tried to reason with them. Waiting on another ship’s team seemed annoying but he could hardly send Cruz and a handful of officers down there to break into the negotiations and take them over.

”Good work while we were gone,” Hawthorne said, “dismissed. Let me know if anything changes.”

He wanted a good old fashioned Romulan Bird of Prey as an enemy, or maybe a rogue Klingon ship. This kind of trickster gods act was too cerebral and uncontrollable for him. He was a bread and butter kind of guy, he liked everything but his coffee preparation simple.

The two stood nodded and left the Ready Room and Commander Cruz, now in her uniform and not a red dress entered nodding at the two lieutenants as she passed.

“I hate not being able to do anything,” Cruz said, she’d come up through Starfleet as a Strategic Operations Officer and doing something was her trademark. Hawthorne had spent the last few years as the Captain of a medical ship where mostly he just moved the ship into place and let the doctors handle the rest.

”You’ll get used to it. The higher up you get the less you actually do,” Hawthorne said, “you could be signing the paper work.”

”This isn’t the time for our personal life,” she snapped at him, though she knew he was right. It was one thing when they thought they were keeping it under wraps but now a good chunk of the remaining senior staff has seen them kissing and by the end of the shift it would be all over the ship. As much as they had seemingly moved beyond gossip, they had definitely not moved beyond gossip.

”You don’t have anything else actionable to do,” Hawthorne said, stirring his coffee that he had now poured from the Chemex into a cup.

”I could very slowly make coffee,” Cruz said back still annoyed that he was right.

”You should, it’s delightful,” he said.

She crossed her arms defensively, as if he was going to attack her though she knew he wasn’t. Still the risk to her career by being associated with his, and tying herself to him in anyway was not a risk she was eager to take. The examples of successful couples as Captains and First Officer were dwarfed by the people for whom it did not work out and those that did tended to have already been married or coupled long before.

Walking to his deck she picked up a PADD, skimmed through the text then signed it with a theatrical flourish.

”There, that’s retroactive, I could still dump you tomorrow,” she said.

”Fair,” he sipped the coffee, “Want come coffee?”

”I have access to replicators again,” she said.

”It’s too bad we didn’t get to try any coffee in the simulation. I wonder if it would be different than our replicators since it wasn’t running on our technology,” he said.

Commander Cruz shook her head, “Are you trying to drive me crazy sir.”

”Yes Commander I am,” he said grinning as he sipped his coffee.

[Nine Forward Lounge]

Lieutenant Young ushered everyone out of the lounge as his team entered. The gym had also returned, a sign that perhaps this was nearing its end. He doubted his engineering team would uncover anything of note, but it was best to grab some readings anyway. He had spent the past couple of hours in the now returned conference room doing the same, and now only the two Holodecks remained missing. So far all crew had been returned unhurt, though the people in the gym had to live through a realistic recreation of a Tellarite sporting tournament that had been on the screens at the time of the room vanishing. 

Lieutenant Yuhiro Kolem was there in case her empathetic abilities could detect something that the sensor readings that the engineering team was collecting could not. Not that she wa sof much help, but then again she seemed to already know that she wouldn’t be.

”So how is it going?” Kolem asked him casually, perhaps trying to glean some information out of him that would help her in her role as Chief Counselor and perhaps just being friendly.

”Things keep vanishing, and a whole bunch of the crew is still missing,” he said. He knew that this was not what she meant, and that Lieutenant Junior Grade Hume was among those missing, so he should go easy on her. 

“Other than that obviously,” Kolem said back, “We made a big transition in ships, even if this is a smaller crew. There’s obviously some differences.”

Young shrugged, “It’s in good shape, not a lot of maintenance thus far despite the class’ reputation. Smaller crew is good.”

Kolem seemed to know that something else was up, but decided not to press, instead she nodded and gave Young a pat on the shoulder and then took a seat in one of the booths. A few minutes later Lieutenant Commander Tashai came by and did inventory on the physical equipment to see that it had all returned (or been returned) from where ever the heck it had been 

After completing the operations checklist she took a seat with Kolem and they talked, and even laughed as Young was scanning. When his team had verified that this was indeed their lounge and returned properly he had the report taken on PADD to the bridge for confirmation. 

He walked over to Kolem and slid into the lounge booth next to her. Tashai was sliding out the other side and waved a hell/good-bye at him as she left. Taking a seat he apologized, “I’m sorry, for being short earlier. This has just been a frustrating experience.”

”You’re one of the best balanced people aboard, I’m not worried about you breaking under the pressure and I understand it getting to you a bit,” Kolem said, ”I’m just being friendly.”

”I know. T’Rala made me her project, and that went badly,” he said.

”Ah, how did it go badly,” Kolem asked.

”I kissed her,” Young said.

”Ah, wait that’s not bad is it? She’s a bit older but you’re both single,“ Kolem said.

Shrugging Young was not sure, “I don’t know. I get engines, I don’t get people so well sometimes. Especially not T’Rala.”

”She is, complex,“ Kolem admitted, “but she is someone who had to get used to fighting for what she wanted, because of who she is. So there’s not a lot of artifice there even if she’s a Romulan.”

Young realized that he had not thought of it that way. Her being a Romulan made her less trustworthy in his eyes not more. And yet what Kolem was saying seemed true, she’d have had to be very clear about what she wanted to do in life and would have had to tight for most of it. That would have lead he to be far more outgoing and clear in her needs and wants than perhaps he found comfortable.

“Thanks,” he said, “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Kolem nodded, “We’ll I can’t tell you must more, but it’s good to think about where someone is coming from. I’m not perfect at it myself, but I find it helps.“

”Maybe it does,” Young said, as he rose, his team already filtering out of the lounge and returnging to duty. They’d keep it closed for a few days, to ensure it did not vanish again,, but it seemed normal enough upon inspection. 

Now just for two more holodecks.

[USS Seattle – Holodeck 1]

In holodeck 1 they had also realized that they could no longer raised the computer but given that they were in nineteenth century earth they did not feel any rush other than the pair of them made up the strategic operations department (the full department) they were given to worry. It was hard for them not to imagine some disaster was not befalling the ship, but there was nothing they could do about it. Other than play golf, which they did.

”Why did we pick golf if none of us had played it before?” Lieutenant Eleanor Dorian asked, wacking the ball down the eighteenth fairway.

Lieutenant Claudia Jara replied, “You saw a picture of it and thought it looked fun.”

“Too bad Kan switched Holodecks and went to play the spy game,” Eleanor said. The security chief had started out with them but after one hole, and before they had gotten locked in had switched rooms. 

“Too bad there’s no single girls on this ship who wanted to join us for golf,” Jara said.

”Or anyone,” Dorian agreed. 

“It’s a dumb sport.”

They fell silent and finished off the hole, and then as if by magic the archway appeared, indicating that they were no longer lost. As they stepped out into the USS Seattle’s hallway Lieutenant James Young and a team of engineers ran up out of breath.

”I think something is wrong with the computer,” Jara said, “It wasn’t working when we were golfing.”

Out of breath Young nodded, “It’s… an… alien god thing….”

”Ah,” Dorian said, “We’d better go catch up on what’s happening.”

[Captain’s Ready Room]

As the two women, still clad in nineteenth century clothing sat in the Ready Room the Captain brought them up to speed on what had been going on. It was a lot, and some of it was still unknown thanks to the fact that the USS Casanova was still in negotiations with the powerful alien entity down on the planet who had clearly been behind all of this. Again it seemed that what they had done was impossible, and if it was some kind of technology that was beyond the Federation at this point then it had been used to accomplish something that was fundamentally useless. Or at least by their understanding.

As they were talking Lieutenant Young communicated, letting them know that the second holodeck had returned and now all of the crew was accounted for. The ship was whole again, and more importantly nobody seemed to be hurt or worse. Captain Nathanial Hawthorne breathed a sigh of relief as he sank into his chair.

Addressing his two Strategic Operations crew members he nodded, “There’s not much for you to do, I understand that the Casanova’s captain is back to being an Andorian and not a balloon. So that leaves them to finish up their survey though given what’s happened I think Starfleet is just going to put a big ‘Don’t Go Here” sign up and leave the system alone.”

Looking from his desk through the window at the planet below the Captain was quiet for a moment, then he spoke again. 

”Not much else for you, but we’ll be going to Deep Space 17 to pick up new science teams and transfer some personnel off, so not a lot to do until we receive out next assignment,” he said, “Until then we’ll continue offering the protection we can to the Casanova.”

The two women nodded. Had they known what was going on on the ship while they were golfing they would have been more worried, not that there would have been anything they could do. Like the Captain and First Officer they’d have been helpless and at the mercy of the mysterious and powerful aliens on the planet’s surface that the Casanova’s away team was dealing with. The Seattle was just for protection, making the Nova Class ship less appealing to potential attackers. 

Lieutenant Dorian looked at Lieutenant Jara as they arrived at their small office, “I’ll start on the mapping our way to Deep Space 17, you do a risk assessment of the way there.”

Jara nodded, “Well this was a weird mission. Hopefully we get to be more useful next time.”