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Shindig on Deck 1

Posted on Sun Mar 20th, 2016 @ 3:25pm by Rear Admiral Oliver Lancaster & Captain Kahlaras Son of Mort'agh & Commander B'rur & Lieutenant Commander Halaylah & Lieutenant Commander Hunter Anders & Lieutenant Aikum M.D & Lieutenant Cherilyn Kaisian & Lieutenant JG Alexander Carson & Lieutenant JG Kairo Zerion & Lieutenant JG Erich Hartmann & Chief Petty Officer Liam O'Keefe

Mission: The Ghost of Deck 666
Location: Holodeck 6
Timeline: MD03 2100
Tags:

On

Hunter had been planning this party for a long time and now that the Borg attack was over. It seemed like the right time to throw it. As he walked up to holodeck 6 with some of his Marine and Security personnel he said " Computer begin Anders program theta 2."

The computer responded " The program is now active. "

As Hunter walked in he was greeted with the sight of the USS Asphodel's bridge. " I want the tables, food and drinks over there." Hunter told his people. After ten or so minutes once everything was set up Hunter tapped his combadge and said " All station senior personnel please report to holodeck 6."

Oliver walked in, wearing his red undershirt and black trousers. He paused as he looked around, before turning to Hunter with a smirk.

"Tactical drill, Major?" He asked, chuckling as he added "You got the memo that we transferred, right?"

" Yes Sir, I did. But this setting was necessary in order to go back to the beginning. " Hunter replied.

Kahlaras walked in and was taken back by the sight of their old bridge."What is this?" he asked in a confused manner.

"It appears to be a holodeck simulation depicting the bridge of an unknown to me starship, set up as some form of festive gala. Perhaps it is a surprise birthday party for you, Commander?" Cher said as she walked in behind the Klingon first officer, having received a strange and surprising summons to met here with the remainder of the senior staff. She took it in stride, if it were to be a personnel briefing, as things seemed to run differently on this ship.

Aikum heard the call while he was excreting waste in his lavatory when he finished and had cleaned himself and washed his hands, he put his uniform jacket on and placed his combadge onto his left breast before replacing his rank pips on the right of his collar. He wasn't fond of the uniforms on SB47, they were to reminiscent of previous eras, but with Starfleet allowing CO discretion on uniforms in recent years, he couldn't argue. He grabbed his tricorder on the table nearest the door and grabbed his mini-medkit and placed it on his belt next to his tricorder which was held in its holster. Checking his reflection in the mirror to the left of the door he attempted to smile at his reflection but felt there was no reason for it. He had since shaved his beard that had begun to grow in during the Borg invasion but had yet to trim his hair which was getting a bit longer. Soon he would need to decide what to do with his bangs. He left his quarters and made his way to the nearest turbolift and headed towards holodeck 6. He wasn't sure what was in store for him and why the senior staff were needed. His best guess was a drill of some sort. On the lift were a few NCOs that ceased speaking when he got on. After a awkwardly short ride, Aikum exited the lift as soon as the pneumatic doors hissed opened and made his way at his normal swift pace do to his long stride towards holodeck 6. As he approached he saw the entrance was open and just beyond the arch he could see the bridge of the USS Asphodel which appeared to be decorated in a festive fashion with various marines and security personal setting up tables. He saw his XO, a woman in blue uniform jacket jumpsuit that was form fitting with dark brown curls. He had noticed her before in sickbay but was too busy to introduce himself. From what he heard she was speaking to his Klingon XO. He stepped into the holodeck just behind the Klingon and the curly hair woman and cleared his throat.

"Apologies for the interruption," he said after nodding to his XO and the woman with black irises and wearing the rank of Lieutenant on her collar; "I was wonder Commander Kahlaras if you knew why were asked to be here?" asked the Vulcan straight to the point as he normal was.

"It would seem logical to deduce that someone desired some form of party," Cher answered the Vulcan. "I am at a loss regarding this particular setting, however."

"That makes two of us." Kahlaras responded.

-Halayah's quarters-

"How the hell did Aikum talk me into wearing this skirt and thigh boots again?" the one eyed chief stated aloud in her quarters and sighed as she recalled one of their breakfast chats that followed into a bet and she lose to him 'Damn Vulcan logic'

Over the time, both Aikum and Halayah had a quiet relationship. Even though, it was some what known that the two were an item, unless you were a poor Klingon warrior who had the fortune to have fought a rat in the garbage area of the ship and call it a honorable fight and victory for the Empire and paid no attention to what was taking place on the station. Halayah, smoothed out her dress coat, which soon followed with the pushing out a few raised areas on the skirt, before she added her pips to her collar, an new combage, and slipped daggers into either boot. Oh she knew they weren't needed, but, she felt better if they were there. Just in case.

Moment or two later, after making sure everything looked correct on her, the Bajoran Warrior, departed Holodeck that a party of sorts were being held at. Yes, she knew it was a party, because of the Engineering rumor mill and nothing get past Engineering, for they have eyes and ears everywhere. So when she arrived, she grinned as she walked up beside Aikum.

"These stockings are riding up my backside" saying only to him as her eye looked about as she grinned to all who happen to look her way "Ugh. I have such a wedgie going on."

"That is not the only thing that rides up your backside," he whispered his reply back into the Bajoran-Klingon hybrid's ear so that only she would hear his reply.

She chuckled as readjusted herself quickly and hopefully no one was looking. "You're horrible, Aikum" she replied in a tone of voice that was jokingly and lovingly at the same time as she squeezed his arm.

"If I may," Cher whispered to the eye-patched Engineer, "they seem so uncomfortable because you somehow put them on backwards. The seam should be on the backside of the legs."

The warrior engineer just growled returning the whisper "Like I noticed the difference, Cher"

"You would, had you put them on correctly," Cher said, with a smile. "It would chafe less. But if you excuse me."

Aikum arched an eyebrow. He did think Halayah looked nice in the altered dress uniform. He also knew donning such apparel was unfamiliar to the warrior woman.

Lieutenant Hartmann felt out of place at things like this: the festiveness, the laughter. Not that he did not enjoy such things, just that he felt far more comfortable among his own kind. He preferred to "party" with his fellow pilots, mostly becasue he had no idea what to talk about when he was with the senior staff, most of whom knew little about fighters or the life of pilots, and he in turn knew just as little about...whatever non-pilots talked about. Still, this shindig had been ordered, so he mingled as best he could, mostly listening to stories of those around him, and tried his best to be social.

Cher went to Hartmann and wrapped her arm inside of his. "Lieutenant, I've often wondered what it's like to fly those small fighter class vessels. They remind me of the idea of the small aircraft Betazoid used to use in defense of it's space. That was before warp flight, of course." Cher beamed at the pilot as she looked around at those gathered by her. "I'm sure we'd all be interested, won't we?" she asked the others.

Not being a part of Senior Staff, Chief Petty Officer Liam O'Keefe was enjoying a night of poker with fellow enlisted men. He was doing very well, bluffing with the best of them. No one could tell if he had bad or good hands. Liam always had a grin and twinkle in his eyes.

Alex had never been the type to go to a lot of parties, he was better in small groups most of the time. However, the Lieutenant recognised the value of getting to know his new colleagues a little better. He had come on board the station at a particularly difficult time and he hadn't really had a chance to speak with many of them. He had always found it useful to get a sense of a crew's strengths as well as how they interacted with each other.

Hartmann was taken aback by Cher's immediate request that he open up, but then he remembered that she was Betazoid, and probably sensed his unease.

"Well Cher, what most people don't realize is that the cockpit is actually quite cold most flights; although we do have atmosphereic controls to regulate the heat, most pilots simply dress warmly and dump the power from the heaters into their engines to gain better performance." the German said.

"Really?" Cher asked. She never knew that. Now, aside from her earlier conversation with the pilot, she realized she didn't know much about fighter pilots. "Isn't that dangerous? Space is very cold and very forgiving. What if you don't get the ratios correct? What if something happens to knock out your power source, you're already that much closer to the freezing zone. It sounds very dangerous to tempt fate in such a manner."

"Well, we do that for two reasons: one, we wear special zero-G suits that can seal in order to maximize our survivability rate if we have to eject. Two: by the time you've received enough damage to interfere with the environmental controls, you're probably dead." Hartmann replied.

"You're job is very dangerous," Cher said, in silent awe. She had intended to see if one of the pilots would be able to take her out for a flight, but now she wasn't so sure she wanted to be anywhere near one of the fighter jets.

"They are actually much safer than they seem. Maybe I'll take you out for a trip in the two-seater sometime if you'd like."

Is she gonna take that as a date invitation? the German pilot wondered.

Cher smiled at the self-consciousness of the pilot. Many considered pilots to be raving egos and, while she may not have much experience with them, so far that could not be said of this particular pilot. "I admit, I was curious about how different they were from a starship, but we Betazoid's don't take kindly to the cold. We prefer things warmer, more humid."

Do I WANT her to take it as a date invitation? Hartmann thought before answering.

"We only shunt the heat when expecting combat, other times we simply leave it alone; the cockpit can be quite cozy, even romantic, I suppose."

Hartmann internally facepalmed as he blurted that last part out.

"Most people usually prepare for engagements before they go into them," Cher said, working very hard not to laugh. She didn't want to hurt his ego by laughing at his clumsiness. "First, they figure out what mission objectives they need to accomplish, then they plan the best way to accomplish those mission objectives. In doing so they make sure of their targets and what is needed to acquire and take down their defenses. Then they go in for the coup de grace. In other words, slow down, flyboy. Make sure of your mission before you go jetting off."

Cher was able to bring herself under control. "Romantic?" she asked, now ready to make a joke. "I bet your copilot just loves the candlelight and flowers."

Hartmann flushed, mostly sure that was a straight rejection of the possible romantic overture. "Most of the time we fly solo, Cher."

Cher chuckled as she pulled her long, dark hair off her shoulder and behind her. "Well, perhaps if you wooed your copilots with better prospects than just a warm, cozy cockpit," she made sure to put the emphasis correctly on the syllable, "you'd not have to be so solo so much."

The German pilot flushed even deeper as he realized the unintentional innuendo he had created by his statement. He decided to take the initiative.

"Tell you what, how about tomorrow night, meet me on the hanger deck, and Ill take you out in one of them, and you can see what's it like inside one of the birds?" he offered, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible. Truth was, whether he tried to hide it or not, he was hoping she would accept the invitation, like an anxious youth hoping the cheerleader would accept his invite to the big dance.

Cher was caught in a dilemma at that point. On the one hand, there were ethics involved in dating patients, and since he'd come to her with a need for counseling, he was a patient. On the other hand, she sensed what a lonely, shy person he was and how he needed friends, and, truth be told, guidance in how to woo a woman successfully. She knew, from his thoughts, his own conflict in whether he wanted this to be a romantic overture or not.

The question became: was it more harmful to accept his offer, and her curiosity wanted her to do just that, and let him think it was a romantic interlude, or to disabuse him of that notion and possibly embarass him or cause him to further isolate himself?

"I would be interested to see the planes and how they operate," she said, as plainly as she could manage, and as directly as she could manage. It was up to him as to how he would take it.

"Tomorrow night then." Hartmann said, concentrating really hard on not being internally giddy about her acceptance of his invitation.

"Hey, did you every hear the one about the Orion slave girl and the Vulcan lawyer?" Hartmann asked his female companion, trying to break the ice.

Hunter looked around noticing that all senior staff had arrived. So he walked to the center of the room and spoke above the noise of the others" As you all probably are wondering about this setting for the party tonight. I'll go ahead and explain. A lot of us first met here on the USS Asphodel. And for those of you who didn't allow me to give a brief history at least since I joined her fine crew."

Hunter let out a deep breath before continuing with the story."For I first met this fine crew in a set of bizarre and highly unethical circumstances. Computer please initiate the rest of the program. " As Hunter said this Asphodel's bridge disappeared and in its place a holding cell appeared. " And now for the narrative I'm passing this off to my CO and friend Captain Lancaster. " Hunter said as he turned to face Oliver.

"Oh? Am I meant to give a speech?" Oliver said, making his way to the middle of the room "So, I kind of suck at speeches. It's why I turned down the offer to give opening address at this year's Starfleet Academy dedication ceremony. That and I couldn't get the time off!"

He snickered at his own joke, before pausing to compose himself.

"Sorry, awful joke. Anyway, as Hunter said, he met this crew under strange circumstances, many of you did." Oliver continued "Over the last 20 months, this crew has seen a lot of new faces added to it, old faces leaving. However, we have always persevered. We've faced insurmountable odds. There've been mad scientists, days of being criminals, dealings with the Romulans and the Borg, not to mention a whiney Q! But we've pulled through it. "

He picked up a wine glass from beside him, raising it slightly.

"Here's to you. All of you." He said, looking round the crew as he necked half his drink "Okay, speech over, get back to your drinks."

The ship's newest Trill walked through the doors, giving a puzzled look to what appeared to be a strange prison setting. It wouldn't have been his first choice in a crew party location, but to each their own. It was strongly suggested to Lieutenant Zerion that he would want to look his best for what promised to be a mighty fine shindig. Not being able to take a trip to the station's tailor, he wore his dress uniform with marked with the grays of Intel.

Alex took the opportunity to introduce himself to the intelligence officer. "Lieutenant Zerion? I'm Alex Carson, the strategic operations officer. Sorry I haven't had a chance to say hi yet, it's been a busy few weeks."

"Tell me about it," replied Zerion to the strategic operations officer. He then extended his hand and said, "Glad to meet you."

Kahlaras decided a drink was in order and grabbed one sitting quietly observing the party.

B'rur loved a party. She made sure whomever was throwing one. When she found out about this party the resident Caitian and second officer, quickly set up an program to add a bit of her own style. She had changed into an sparkling skin tight dress. She would have worn the purple high heels, but, heels and paws don't go well together. The lights dimmed low, as if on queue. The band soon changed the number as a slender fur covered leg came out between the curtains. Of course, the idea came out of the play book of Q. When the lights dimmed, the holodeck shifted from the old bridge to an modified version of the bridge and an old 1920's speakeasy. A stage replaced the forward viewscreen and an 1920s band soon appeared on the side of the stage and began to play music for the singer.

B'rur's voice came over the overhead speakers in a very pleasant voice as she began to sing...

You had plenty of money, 2322.
You let other women make a fool of you.


She strolled from person to person as she sang. Her legs let her body sway as she spun around her friends that stood as she dance and sang.

Why don't you do right,
like some other men do?


She moved with an elegant grace. She sang her song without a problem as she danced with the music of the band as she made her way to Executive officer.

Get out of here,
Get me some money too.


She got up to the XO and threw her legs over his lap and placed both hands onto his warrior's shoulders and looked at him as she sang her song. She swayed her hips to the band music while on top of his lap.

You're sittin' down wondering what it's all about.
If you ain't got no money they will, put you out.
Why don't you do right,
like some other men do?


She pushed herself up and off the Exec's lap and spun around and she strutted herself away from him. No doubt, leaving the XO wondering.

Get out of here,
Get me some money too.


She made her way to host, the Marine Major and the captain and danced between the two officers. The caitian's years of dancing, far before her years in Starfleet, was always there and never missed a beat. Even though, the body had changed in recent times.

Now if you had purrred 20 years ago,
You wouldn't be a wandering now from door to door.
Why don't you do right,
like some other men do?


The caitian soon left the two officers and danced around Cher, the Doctor, pilot and the master engineer.

Get out of here,
get me some money too.

Get out of here,
get me some money too.

Why don't you do right,
like some other men do?


Once she was done, she sat in a chair, which, from what she gathered was the Captain's old chair. The light returned to normal and she heard the clapping and she rose from the chair and bowed.

"Thank you," she returned to everyone "Now If I heard correctly, isn't it someone birthday today?"

"Maybe a certain Klingons?" Cher said, with a smile and cheer.

"Oh really the XO?" B'rur giggled and pointed to the Klingon and grinned at him "You got to fight...."

Easily plucking the lyrics and melody from the Caitian spectacle, Cher's singing was nowhere near as good as her namesake, but she belted out anyway..."for your right!"

"...to PURRTY!" B'rur yelled and the music started up again in a lively pace and the cait went over to the XO and dragged the old warrior out onto the middle of the modified bridge and began dancing with him "Come on, you all. Cut a rug get down and dance." she was happy, thanks to Cher words, let alone knowing that she had a awesome friends who she called family.

Zerion grabbed a drink from the nearest table and downed it in one gulp. That had to be a first in Starfleet. The Trill was happy that he remembered to take his alcohol inhibitors before he arrived.

"I am a Klingon, I do not dance!" he shouted trying to return to his seat and drink

Halayah watched the dancing of B'rur and shook her head. her old Caitian friend always seemed to have all sorts of energy to spear and at times, Halayah always joked about tapping into every ready energy to power a shuttle craft, maybe even a starship. She let an chuckled escape upon hearing the XO shout he doesn't dance.

"That's a lie, commander" the one eyed engineer returned the Shout as she turned to looked at Aikum and smiled as she extended her hand to her friend and dearest "Shall we, doctor?"

"I am not learned in the art of dancing, were I to accompany you I would only serve to embarrass myself as well as you. If you wish I will not experience jealousy if you decided to dance with someone else." replied the Vulcan making sure not to display is unease at being asked to dance.

"No just you, Doctor" she stated "besides I'm not a good enough dancer either"

Aikum thought for a moment and decided that he would dance with his woman and he grasped her hand and led her to the dancing area.

Kahlaras walked over to the refreshment table and grabbed a glass of something orange, it smelled sweet but when he drank from it it tingled his tongue. "What is this drink?" he asked the attendant behind the makeshift bar."Its called a Mimosa, Commander. It has orange juice mixed with Champagne."

Kahlaras smiled then downed the drink."Another, it is rather refreshing." he said handing his glass back for a refill.

"Of course Commander." The attendant responded, figuring it was going to be a while before he left satisfied.

"Watch yourself, Commander." Oliver said with a smirk as he walked over, clapping his XO on the shoulder "I'm pretty sure you're on Alpha shift tomorrow, don't want a hangover."

"Seems to me this party is not going to get going officially until the birthday boy does his birthday dance!" Cher called out. "So are we going to let the celebrations die?"

"So long as it's not in his birthday suit!" Hartmann jested.

"I am Klingon Captain, I do not hang over." Kahlaras said as he downed his 5th mimosa.

"It's 'do not hang' or 'do not get hang overs.'" Oliver corrected with a wry grin "Now, let's see this dance! I can make it an order, if you prefer?"

Kahlaras grunted with displeasure, he was going to have to do this whether he wanted to or not. He cracked his neck with a horrifying crunch and his knuckles as well, things were about to get jiggy."Hold this." he said giving his mimosa to the attendant who looked on in utter shock at what he was about to witness.

Kahlaras ventured out onto the makeshift dance floor and slowly began to sway back and forth, gaining momentum with each sway. Then he stopped and began to dance a choreography that looked like it had emerged from the early 1970's of Earth's 20th century. His hips were moving, his legs were jamming, his hands full of spirit, and his head on a swivel moving as if he did this every day. Even the music was authentic, a tune commonly referred to as 'I will Survive'.

Hunter had been in a corner watching the party while he was drinking some non synthehol white lightning. As the song came on he instantly recognized it from his father's old Earth record collection. Hunter knew what he had to do, so he downed his drink in one gulp and walked to the dance floor.

" Computer one disco ball complete with multi colored spotlights. " As Hunter said this the lights dimmed, a spinning disco ball appeared on the ceiling and multiple lights began reflecting off of it. Then Hunter said " I once saw some this dancing in an old movie called Saturday Night Fever."

Cher whistled as she clapped, then, with the waves of emotion running through the room catching her up, she started chanting "take it off! take it off!"

Though she didn't know the music played it was lively and with a good beat, the lyrics were odd - "there you stand with that sad look upon your face, back from outer space" - she liked the overall tone, the enthusiastic refrain of mental health. She might even call it 'toe tapping fun' had she known that phrase. "Take it off! Take it off!"

Grabbing Hartmann, she decided that she, too, wanted to move to the groove of the song.

Alex regarded his drink with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. It tasted fine and it had been replicated on the holodeck but he was fairly certain that it must have been drugged with some kind of psychoactive compound. That or this gathering had taken a definite turn for the surreal.

Hartmann was not very good at dancing. His father had taught him the basics of ballroom and waltzing, but his guilty pleasure was that he could disco. Someone once told him that part of good dancing is simply having fun and not worrying about the technical aspects. So he joined Cher with enthusiasm, twirling her occasionally and trying to keep his grove to the beat, trying hard not to think about how nice she looked when she was having fun.

Cher was not familiar with Earth style dances, especially a style that was more than four hundred years old, even if it did enjoy an odd resurgence every so often. This is where being a telepath came in hand - allowing her to 'understand' and 'read' what the expected movements of the dance were. It was certainly energetic and required a lot of movements, which caused her normally kept hair to start falling out of the pins holding it. Eventually she just let it all fall down, in long, dark, lazy curls. She had to admit, however, that she could only be as good at the dance as her partners, since it was their expectations she was following.

"This is certainly turning out much more interesting than I expected," she said, her breathing slightly elevated, as the song came to a close.

"Too right." Erich said, his own breathing having increased as his body reminded him that he was no longer 18 and couldn't dance with abandon anymore.

"What is a waltz?" Cher asked, picking up the term out of his thoughts as she directed him toward the beverage counter. "A Starduster," she ordered, waiting for Hartmann to explain.

"Screwdriver." Erich asked the barkeep. "A Waltz is a rotary dance where the dancers are constantly turning either toward the leader's right or left, interspersed with non-rotating change steps to switch between the direction of rotation." Sensing that he may have been too technical, Erich tried more laconic descriptions.

"It involves much twirling, rotation, and the partners usually have to be very close together for it to work."

"I can see your interest in it, then," Cher said as she scanned the crowd, looking to make sure everyone was mingling and having a merry time. Especially watching the Klingon gyrate as if he were having a seizure and a stroke at once.

The song ended and Kahlaras straightened up from his display. He looked around cleared his throat and walked towards the drink table once more."Another."he said, panting, his hair slightly disheveled
.

Meanwhile, back at the NCO card game, the others, tired of losing hand after hand to Chief Petty Officer O'Keefe caused one to accuse him of cheating. Liam took objection, causing him to threaten to immediately cash in his chips. The accuser, angry at not having the chance to gain his losings back jumped across the table at O'Keefe. The ensuing conflict brought station security rushing to the location. Both combatants ended up in the brig, pending command's decision.

-Party-

Oliver's comm. badge chirped as he took his whiskey from the bartender. He sighed as he tapped the badge.

"Lancaster here." He said "What's up?"

"There's been an altercation sir. Came the voice of the duty security officer "Two crew members are in the brig."

"I'm on my way." Oliver said, rolling his eyes as he necked the scotch "Lancaster out."

He moved over to Kahlaras, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"Nice moves out there, but I've got to run. Something's come up. Enjoy your party." He said, grinning to Hunter and adding a second before leaving "Great party, Major."

"Sir, as the acting head of Security mind if I tag along?" Hunter replied.

"I think we're past acting, Major." Oliver grinned "I can deal with this. You organized this party, it's only fitting you stick around to enjoy it. It's probably just a couple of boys been squabbling on the promenade."

B'rur was having a great time, dancing with whomever. She was enjoying the sight of seeing the Xo dancing and she laughed aloud with the other and stated the same of 'take it off' she did her best to whistle, but, the point got across. once the disco ball came down B'rur danced over to Cher and began dancing with her.

Kahlaras tumbled over to the Captain, the Mimosas clearly having an affect."Go sir, I'll handle things here." he said slurring a bit

"And who's going to handle you?" Oliver muttered, before adding with a grin "I mean, you seem to be handling that stuff so well, you're going to be babysitting by the end of the night."

Aikum was doing a two step next to his woman when he heard a call. Although it was faint from where he was but, his anatomy allowed him to hear and his mental conditioning as a child taught him to isolate sounds so he stopped for a moment and listened in. He quickly walked over to where his XO and CO were forgetting that he was dancing with Halaylah.
"Anything the matter sirs? Please say yes and let me come with, I do not dance although Halaylah wants me to do so that and I am just not the party type."

"Doc, go." Oliver said, clapping a hand on his CMO's shoulder "That's an order."

"Yes orders. Those are good!" Kahlaras responded clearly trashed at this point, the effects setting in.

Oliver moved to the area where the turbo lift doors were. As he did, he spoke one word.

"Arch."

The large metal structure appeared in front of him as he began to walk forward, the doors opening and allowing him to pass back onto his station. He'd had quite enough of partying in the past for one evening.

OFF

 

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