Shoreleave, Chuck Taylors, and Jeans

Posted on Thu Oct 1st, 2020 @ 11:12am by Lieutenant Commander T'Par
Edited on on Thu Oct 1st, 2020 @ 10:52pm

Mission: End of Line
Location: Deck 3: Sullivan's Quarters
Timeline: MD 01
1768 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Barely five minutes had passed since Lilith Sullivan stood on the bridge and announced her intention to begin shoreleave in front of Captain Saulitis, Commander Hanover, and the rest of the bridge crew. Judging by the hastily discarded uniform laying askew on her bed in her otherwise spotless quarters, it was obvious that the ship's chief helmswoman was in a hurry. As she stepped into the shower, the sound of her favorite playlist blaring out of the speakers at less than neighborly decibel levels drowned out the sound of an incoming message notification. The screen on her PADD illuminated brightly with the crest of the Bureau of Personnel before fading to black.

The sound of water droplets hitting the shower floor stopped, but Lilith continued to sing along with the melodies of her playlist, following the soaring guitar solo from a mid-eighties power ballad as she danced around the bathroom.

Man, I wish I could play like that. Having eight fingers per hand must make things easier.

A few minutes later, Lilith walked out the door in a pair of black, low top Chuck Taylors, frayed skinny jeans, and a slogan tee whose VF-14 Legionnaires branding was partially obscured by a hooded, button-down flannel shirt she wore to keep warm. Ear buds in, Sullivan skipped down the corridor to the thumping beat of a modern tune heavily influenced by the stylings of twenty-third century R&B songwriters. Somewhere between the second chorus and the bridge, Sullivan reached the port airlock and waited for T'Par to arrive.

T'Par had returned to her own quarters as well since encountering Sullivan in the turbolift. She had taken a quick sonic shower and had changed into a grey overdress worn with a dark green underdress shaded in erratic, triangular patterns. It was a typical Vulcan civilian outfit, one she found somewhat more fashionable than simple robes and tunics or the elaborate ceremonial garb her people sometimes donned. It was only a few minutes later that she arrived at the airlock where Sullivan waited. "I am ready," she said unnecessarily.

"Hola amiga," Lilith waved as she saw her approach. "Ready or not, here we come. I haven't read anything about the station or what's over there, I figure there'll be a hologram along shortly to help us make a decision. Have you looked at anything or made any plans?"

"I have looked over the available information," T'Par confirmed, "but I had intended to follow your lead, though some of the gardens are of interest."

"Sounds good to me! I think I've memorized the arboretum by now, so it'll be good to explore something new. Let's go!" Sullivan motioned towards the airlock and started walking towards the station. Keeping with her personal tradition, the ship's chief helmswoman jumped up and tapped the last crossbeam of the ship's superstructure before taking her last step on the Majestic and crossing onto Starbase Adna. The gangway was well lit and long enough where the visual illusion of being in a narrow tube made the walk seem longer than it was in reality. As one of the first members to cross into the starbase proper, both women paused and took in the sights.

///SYS-ACTIVATED!
passive-alert-scan=true”
/GENERATE:
;char-Shabol=true
:activate

"Whoa, hello there!" Sullivan froze in her tracks as a hologram phased into existence.

"LADIES!" beamed the Shabol hologram, a tremendous smile grasping at the cheek bones of his blue face. He stretched out his hands and grabbed each of the women's in turn, vigorously shaking them as he laughed a happy little laugh. "Ladies what can I do for you?! How can I make your stay, the most relaxing and pleasurable time of your lives?"

T'Par extended her hand with the palm down and the fingers curled inwards after the Bolian fashion, accepting the Hologram's rather enthusiastic shake. "We had intended to view the gardens," she answered him.

"OH! The GARDENS!" Shabol responded with boundless energy and enthusiasm, he wedged himself between the two, forcibly linking arms with both and moving forwards. "Or gardens are spectacular!" he beamed, "oh you have to see them, truly they are second to none, did you know that we have three - THREE - Lissepian Orchids? There are only four in all the galaxy, well, only two that are even known of publicly. They only flower every six centuries or so you know, and the others are all seedlings, oh you'll have such a wonderful time. Oh! I bet you can't name all the five types of Klingon aphrodisiac cabbages?" he asked, barely drawing a simulated breath before diving right back in - "Oh I can! They're - "

"Whoa, hold on a second!" After recovering from her initial shock, Lilith had cracked a smile at the Bolian hologram, giggling to herself at the exaggerated manner in which he spoke and gestured around. She had thought her energy level was high after skipping away the distance between the ship and the station, but nothing could have prepared her for this. "Sir, we don't even know your name! Nor you ours! But we do know about Lissepian orchids and aphrodisiac cabbages," Sullivan laughed. "My name is Lily, Master Bolian, it is nice to meet you."

"I m T'Par," the Vulcan woman said. Her tone and manner was completely unchanged as she observed the rather high energy display of the hologram. "I am not in need of Klingon aphrodisiacs," she said just as calmly.

Shabol dropped the arms of the two women and turned to face them, he eyed the Vulcan up and down, “on...well, I suppose that would be a matter for some debate...”. He threw his arms open, “I am Shabol! I am your primary host! Here to carer to ALL of your whims and desires!”

"By whom?" T'Par asked, meeting the hologram's gaze.

"Well, I mean he did say every whim and desire, T'Par. Humans have an idiom about never looking a gift horse in the mouth, but we also have another one that says if things are too good to be true, they probably aren't. Yeah, I know, I know, not the most logical thing in the universe, but it's the best we've got," Sullivan laughed at herself before turning back towards the holographic Bolian. "Master Shabol, we're on leave which means I am suspending my disbelief for the sake of having a good time. Take me to your local watering hole so that I may have a beverage before we traipse through the gardens.

Shabol eyed the stoic Vulcan up and down once more, “hmmm” he rumbled under his simulated breath. Looking towards the clearly happier and much more fun companion, he threw his arms open in an exaggerated gesture as he dematerialised. Reforming in a crowded bar with much of this Majestic crew present, his diagnostic sensors confirmed to him that two women had been successfully transported to the bar and that everything was where it should be. He activated a communication subroutine and beckoned a beautiful young Trill male over, his open shirt displaying an impressively athletic body. The Trill hologram proceeded to drape an arm around the Vulcan and placed a glass of bright liquid in her hand. “Well” Shabol began “if Klingon cabbages aren’t your thing perhaps he will do.....” turning his attention back to the woman named Lilly he placed his hand on his hips and made a faux look of confusion. “AND what should we get for you young lady???”

T'Par lifted the drink and looked at it suspiciously. She even sniffed it before setting it down once more on the surface of the bar. She slipped out from under the Trill's arm and stepped away from the bar. Her stoic expression seemed mostly unaffected but there was a sudden forcefulness to the motion. Even a violence. "I am not interested in this sort of recreation with anyone but my husband, Shabol. Please respect..." There was a pause as she considered that she was addressing a computer program, ultimately. "Exclude all sexual and romantic scenarios from any future anticipation of my possible wishes and pleasures."

Shabol nodded, his personality subroutines trying to hide the frustration he was experience towards the Vulcan. "Hmmm" he mumbled, eyeing them both. "Fine. No Sex."

Noticing the shift in tone from her friend, Lilith straightened her posture and watched as the Trill hologram disappeared into nothingness before taking in her surroundings. Almost imperceptibly, they had changed setting to an immersive recreation of a western saloon somewhere on the North American continent set in the mid to late nineteenth century. Every detail looked as if the entire venue had been lifted out of a spaghetti western and duplicated in front of their very eyes. The faint haze of smoke permeated the room; so, too, did the sound of a slightly detuned piano that was being played by another hologram.

"Well, in the spirit of this fabulous setting and to keep true to the period, I'll have your finest lager and a shot of whisky, Shabol," Sullivan nodded, taking in the sights and sounds. "I'll be ready to walk the gardens afterwards, T'Par. Sorry to drag you through one of my vices," she grinned sheepishly.

The Trill gone, T'Par moved over to take a seat next to Lilith. "There's no cause for concern. I am happy to share a drink with you." T'Par glanced around the room. "This is an Earth style. 19th century. Western North America," she said unnecessarily. "An enduring theme in popular culture. The Wild West, I believe it's called." She reached a hand out and ran it along the surface of the bar as if taking in the texture of the wood itself before she looked to Shabol. "This is an excellent recreation. Very attentive to detail. I will also have a lager."

A redundant gesture, Shabol motioned to an area behind the bar and there appeared a ghastly pale, glutton of an obese, hairy, smelly man. "This rather unsexual specimen shall cater to your every whim...." the Bolian said wearily, "when you're ready to move on just let..." he paused eyeing up his hideous creation "...it, know."

With an excessively dramatic shudder, Shabol clapped his hands once and disappeared, his sensors had alerted him to another more pressing need elsewhere on the station...

"Thank you, Shabol," T'Par said politely as he created the rather unattractive man. It was only after he had disappeared that she whispered under her breath to Lily, "Something is off."

===

SYS-SCAN; uss-majestic; control-systems
;command-overrides
; SYS-ACT; tunnel-protocol-data-access;
:command-code-override 11%
:tactical-systems 8%
:helm-system 11%
:EMH-system-control 29%
:enviro-system 19%

===