[? – 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.