Holodeck Chats pt 3

Posted on Sunday April 2nd, 2023 @ 11:24am by Lieutenant Stan More & Gunnery Sergeant Maximilian Pfaffenheim
Edited on on Tuesday April 4th, 2023 @ 5:59am

1,886 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Shore Leave
Location: Holodeck

[ON]

-Holodeck-

"Fools!", the captain bellowed while fending off Stan and Max with a series of expert cutlass strikes. "You are merely delaying the inevitable! These seas will belong to King Louis of France, you Spaniard dogs!" With that, a shrill whistle sounded from the forecastle of the enemy ship, as most of the privateers (or what was left of them) had managed to clamber back aboard and were now busy cutting the rigging holding both vessels together. Evidently, they had had enough.

"Um, Lieutenant.", Max hazarded as he parried yet another flurry of strikes. "I don't think staying on this fine vessel is going to be good for our health!"

Stan ducked just in time as the space where his head had been. Was now occupied by a very sharp cutlass.

" You know I would never go the opposite way from a fight Maximillian. But in this wee instance I fully agree." Stan said as another swipe of that sharp weapon. Narrowly missed turning him into a female.

The sergeant simply nodded before inching back to the wooden railing, where they had previously jumped across, noting that another pair of ropes conveniently swung into view. Someone really had done a good job with that particular part of the code. He grabbed one, handing the other to Stan.

"Time to go, Lieutenant!" Before the pirate could make to swing at them, the sergeant drew his last remaining pistol, though didn't shoot. It served to keep their opponent at arm's length, out of the few meters of range where it would actually be accurate.

A rather nasty looking pirate with hardly any teeth that were not yellow. Began to move towards Stan as he grabbed the rope Maximilian offered. The young Officer did not like the murderous look in his one remaining eye.

“ You know my friend I think you might just be correct.” Stan said

Ignoring a very disconcerting creaking sound from the ropes, the two Starfleet men jumped off the railing just in the nick of time, as the privateer already began pulling away, its attack thwarted. The captain and several sailors drew their pistols while shouting curses, but within seconds, Stan and Max were out of their reach.

While their exit had been suitably elegant, the landing back on the Viento was another question. As the French ship began disappearing into the fog, and the Spanish crew cheered, Max tripped on a piece of rigging, nearly bowling over a nearby officer. Dusting himself off, the Sergeant looked over the railing, where only the shadow of their attacker was now visible, rapidly shrinking away, then over to Stan.

"Phew. That was new. I'll have to think about how to top that next time I have time to write something.", he quipped. "Write holoprograms too, Lieutenant?"

Stan shook his head.

“ I have always wanted to. But Starfleet medical kind of put a block on me doing so. Yer see I had this bad accident as a kid. I had a brain injury and my parents brought in this inexperienced Vulcan healer. They left this mental scar in my head. Oh was fine for years. Until My Fiance cheated on me before our wedding. The emotional shock set it off. I became very different from what I am now. Things came to a head on my first posting. I was kicked off the ship and sent to Starfleet medical. Where they discovered that it was this scar was the cause. After six months of therapy and mind exercises. I was fully healed and allowed back into service. However Starfleet medical are still wary I may have a relapse. So I am blocked from writing holodeck programs in case sets me off again.” Stan explained.

Max looked up, never having heard of an actual example, though he knew injury by mindmeld was quite possible. He supposed it spoke more to the high standard of controls placed upon the practice. "Oh... I'm sorry to hear that, sir." He scratched his head, not quite sure how to respond - he never had been good at that. "Though that explains the strict regulations on Vulcan marines in regards to this topic.", he added then, remembering humorously that most people were more surprised by a Marine grunt even being Vulcan. Their image tended to clash with the esprit-de-corps that every one of them was expected to display.

"Though I suppose, technically giving somebody else suggestions isn't the same as writing, eh?", he offered.

“ Yes. Although it’s been a wee while now. It may be possible to get round them. By perhaps writing a program with someone else. Theres a quit period coming up we could write one. Starfleet Medical can’t get hot under the collar if you’re there to make sure I don’t turn the safety off.” Stan suggested.

"Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant. I've been meaning to brush up on my skills anyway. Progging sanctioned combat simulations can only get one so far, what with all the regulations.", Max answered, sounding, uncharacteristically, a little annoyed at the mention of regulations. "Don't get me wrong, most of them are good to have - let me tell you, if you let a DI run a holosuite with a blank check, recruitment would go negative overnight - but some just don't make much sense at all. Did you know giving a character the wrong kind of handphaser is grounds for requesting a program modification?", he continued, recounting a particularly petty incident from times past.

"Either way, it'll be good getting some hands on again."

“ Perhaps some kind of fushion. My ancestors versus yours. The Scot’s were good builders and engineers. Although our navy was part of the English Royal Navy. Most of the below deck crew whose hands got covered in grease were Scot’s. Even a the original Enterprise had a Scotsman as chief engineer. But we would have to check first anyway. Just incase Starfleet Medical still had a bee in its furry bonnet about me. So do you wanna go on or should we call this a day. For now?” Stan Asked.

"It would probably make the most sense historically. There was nary a time where the two weren't at each others' throats, as far as I've read. Typical pre-WW3 Earth stuff.", Max reponded, stretching a little as the holosuite returned to its default state. Suddenly, he snorted as if having just thought of something amusing. "Oh lord, now you've put the image of Captain Scott wearing a tricorn in my mind."

"As for the latter, I think I could still use a little exercise if you catch my drift. Do you have anything in mind? I need to brush up my library because... well. Computer, list program folders in directory Pfaffenheim dash Holo?"

'Directory contains: Training dash Adjustable. Scenarios dash Adjustable. Scenarios dash Default dash Regulation. Naval. Miscellaneous.', came the prompt response. "It's all a little... unidirectional right now.", he shrugged apologetically.

Stan rubbed his chin in thought.

“ What about stealth combat? I have a program where we have to rescue the Gorn Ambassadors youngest son from a rival. They are holed up in an old castle not far from Loch Ness. They have orders to kill the wee beast if a rescue team arrives. It set not to long ago so it’s all modern weapons. Unless you want something older?” Stan asked.

"Well, you seem to be a bit of a library for historical programs, Lieutenant... I think I could do with something a bit older, if I'm honest.", Max answered. "Are a lot of these set in Scotland, by the way? Not that I'm complaining, just got to watch out for swords twice my size!", he added, jokingly.

“ Yes. To be honest most of these came from my Grandfather. He was a Starfleet officer Commander Butch McTaggard. Sadly he never took notice of his holodeck program and learned from them. He was killed in battle with the Jem H’dar during dominion war. Do you have anything?” Stan asked.

"Oh... my condolences, Lieutenant.", Max replied at the sudden revelation of family history. "Well, we can take a look in the rest of my libraries... let's see here... uh, computer. List top-rated program in folder Miscellaneous Programs?"

The computer's voice replied without delay. 'Top rated program in Miscellaneous Programs folder: *Sasaki Two Oh Seven Echo.* Description as follows:' Suddenly, a recording was played, with Max's voice clearly audible, yet lacking his usually measured tone, sounding decidedly drunk.

|"So, uh, Akari says we should try doing this one with some Romulan ale but Batty got busted because it's 'against regulation' or some dumb shit so I'm just gonna save this here before the sarge gets back from getting grilled for that one- oh oh, speak of the devi-"|

As it cut out, the gunnery sergeant cleared his throat loudly. "Well, um, guess that one's from... a while back.", he muttered, quietly resolving to check the other program descriptions later. "Let's just pretend you never heard that.", he told Stan in a part humorous, but also part serious tone. The last thing he needed was to have his marines find out about the days when he had just been Lance Corporal. "Anyway... computer, let's see it. Load program."

'Loading program Sasaki Two Oh Seven Echo.'

“ This sounds mighty intriguing indeed. Japan. They had quite a blood thirsty history some of it makes the Klingons look like fluffy wee bunnies. The Japanese sword masters were very skilled considering the tools they had then. Never really developed a taste for Romulan ale now give me a good whisky. That’s more my pace but only for medicinal purposes of course.” Stan said

"Well, I suppose it has its place, but looking back I don't even know what my tastebuds were back then. I suppose it's more of an enlisted phenomenon in the Corps.", Max responded, ruminating on past experiences. "On the Ford, smuggling even a drop of it in was a challenge reserved only for the bravest of the brave in each squad, on account of our lovely Klingon Sergeant Major having the nose of a bloodhound when it came to anything Romulan."

Soon, however, their conversation was interrupted as the holodeck began constructing the new environment. The black confines of the chamber faded away, to be replaced by an amalgamation of earthy colors, which themselves quickly made way for a scene not too dissimilar from the holoprogram Stan had run earlier in the day.

The two men suddenly found themselves standing in what could be adequately described as a pasture. Green grass, covered in morning dew, stretched for some distance in all directions before meeting several treelines, obscuring whatever was beyond. Just above their lush, green tops, though, the dark sides of mountains became visible. Covered sparsely in vegetation, snow and fog, their appearance fell into an odd grey area between 'ominous' and 'relaxing', Max opined silently.

Looking around More could see the mountains. He recognised them immediately.Then he realised he still had the same weapon that was used against the pirates.

“ Excellent. But we are going to need proper weapons and attire.” Stan said.

[OFF ]

Gunnery Sergeant Maximilian Pfaffenheim
First Sergeant
Marine Detachment
USS Poseidon

&

Lieutenant Stan More
Security
USS Poseidon

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