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it's excitin'!
Topic #4 
2nd-Jul-2009 02:31 pm
[[Alrighty, it's time for everyone's favorite Scotsman to take his turn. We'll be falling back on the old 'Enterprise becomes sentient, plays matchmaker' routine. I'm not quite sure how this is going to work itself out, but I'll be playing both Scotty and the Enterprise herself. I suppose you can just post your as characters, interact for a couple posts, and then I'll step in and, dunno, lock you two into a supply closet or summat.]]

Ion storms. It was always ion storms.

Somehow, sub-atomic particles always managed to flit their way in to each and every situation and wreak havoc. It seemed to Scotty that every other week his beautiful ship was converging with parallel universes, mucking about in the past, and generally fucking with every law of physics.

Most of the time he could rectify the problem before it got too out of hand - sometimes the crew didn't even notice the difference.

But as Scotty stood there, slack-jawed staring at the computer console, he decided that today would be different.

Against the shiny white plasma screen blinked seven words in dark, stylistic text:

'Would you like to play a game?'

And yes, he really, really would.

3rd-Jul-2009 05:52 am (UTC)
Emily was in a good mood.

Her shift had ended an hour ago after a very uneventful day, she had finally figured out a note for a song she was recomposing for the piano (which she was currently playing) and there was no reason for anyone to bother her for, at least, another two hours.

She even allowed herself a shot of straight bourbon that she had been nursing for the last 30 minutes.
7th-Jul-2009 02:23 am (UTC)
Beside the screen displaying Lieutenant Michaels, another screen lit up. It showed one of the crew's quarters, and for a second Scotty felt bad for invading the person's privacy.

Until he saw Emily, and then he didn't feel quite so bad.

Still bitter from the spider incident, Scotty leaned forward over the comm input and blew into it softly.

"Emily," he whispered. "Eeeeemilyyyy..."
7th-Jul-2009 02:26 am (UTC)
The notes trailed off as Emily's fingers stilled.

She thought she had heard something... someone saying her name...
3rd-Jul-2009 04:12 pm (UTC)
Secretly, Kirk had half-wished that something had happened in that ion storm. They were currently cruising at warp factor one through the black of space, waiting for something to come up.

He spun about in his chair out of sheer boredom, flicking a pointless button monotonously on the arm of his chair. He hopefully anticipated some sort of harmless trouble.
3rd-Jul-2009 04:17 pm (UTC)
McCoy raised an eyebrow, watching as Kirk tried to amuse himself. Clasping his hands behind his back, he cleared his throat.

"You ever planning on dismissin' me, Captain?" he said tiredly. He had been sitting peacefully in his office, writing notes on comparative alien physiology, when he'd been unceremoniously ordered to the bridge in the wake of the ion storm. For no other goddamn reason than to keep his captain entertained.

Well, he was a doctor, damn it, not a clown.
3rd-Jul-2009 04:43 pm (UTC)
Down in the furthest reaches of Engineering, Scotty stared blankly at the computer screen. It was currently displaying a security feed of the bridge, focusing primarily on the captain and Doctor McCoy.

The same bold text as before materialized on the screen beneath the video.

'I'll need your help, Montgomery.'

And how could he ever deny his girl anything?

He reached out, tapping the commlink to the bridge. Here goes nothing.

"Engineering to bridge," he called out simply, watching the security feed closely.
3rd-Jul-2009 05:26 pm (UTC)
"Mm. Another four years maybe. When you've lost the will to live." He shrugged with a grin, still flicking the switch click-click-click-click

He opened his mouth again but was interrupted by Scotty over the commlink. He jabbed a different button.

"Kirk here, Mister Scott."
5th-Jul-2009 02:22 am (UTC)
Alex missed all the joy and excitement of the ion storm and was quietly hiding in his lab, keeping himself up to date on the most recent publications related to xenosociology and anthropology. And while he waited for the files to present themselves in some sort of order, he compiled a list of planets they would be passing on the planned trajectory.

Once that finished, he began to compile all known data on social mores and so on, so if a briefing had to be done for a landing party, he could save time and have the info at his fingertips.
7th-Jul-2009 02:20 am (UTC)
Scotty narrowed his eyes at the security screen, feeling slightly guilty as he watched the captain and Doctor McCoy interact.

Abruptly the view switched to one of the science laboratories aboard the ship. Quite frankly, Scotty had never been that much interested in native flora or fauna or whatever those sciency types investigated, but at the sight of Lieutenant Michaels all alone, his interest (and slightly evil side) was piqued.

'Amuse me, Monty,' the ship seemed to coo. Scotty felt his cheeks redden slightly, and he typed a few commands into the console.

Whatever the lieutenant was typing into the computer station, he would soon find it to be nothing but gibberish. Nothing that couldn't be easily reversed, of course. Scotty sat back in his chair and watched the monitor eagerly.
7th-Jul-2009 02:47 am (UTC)
Alex's mouth dropped open when the monitor flickered and all his data, all the reports became gibberish.

"Oh, no. No, no no. No, this is bad. Holy fuck, what did I do?" He was having a mini-breakdown, as countless hours of research disappeared into a garble of letters and numbers with none of it making sense.

He knew computers, knew how to fix this. He pressed buttons in sequence, tried a soft reset, a hard reboot. Nothing helped and he finally pounded the console in frustration. Why yes, he was having a tantrum.

Edited at 2009-07-07 02:47 am (UTC)
7th-Jul-2009 02:56 am (UTC)
Waiting until the poor man was nearly at his breaking point, Scotty calmly hit an override, causing the computer to return to normal. He couldn't risk pushing it too far, after all.

He scratched his neck as he thought what to do next, finally deciding to fall back on the good ole fuck-with-the-temperature routine. He switched the thermostat up a bit, grinning down at the security feed.
7th-Jul-2009 06:00 am (UTC)
Sulu had finally managed to convince Chekov to come to the ship's gardens. He came a little early to make sure the plants he'd raised himself were doing well. The gardeners were good at their jobs, of course, but they didn't provide the kind of individualized attention that his babies were used to.
7th-Jul-2009 06:18 am (UTC)
Chekov still wasn't sure about this. He'd seen the plants in Hikaru's quarters, and they were nice, he supposed. But the whole deadly-spores and flesh-eating-acid and moving-plants stuff didn't really bode well with him. He would have been more than happy to spend the evening reading that new scientific journal on a new sub-space long-range frequency transmissions theory, but Sulu had looked so hopeful when he'd ask that Chekov just didn't have the heart to deny him.

He made his way to the gardens slowly, frowning down at his feet and clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly. The plants still gave him the creeps.
11th-Jul-2009 10:35 am (UTC)
Sulu finished his "checkups" in the primary garden, which housed the least dangerous - and least mobile - of the Terran and alien flora. It was no coincidence that he'd asked Chekov to meet him in this particular garden. He didn't expect for Chekov to share the same sheer joy he felt when taking care of plants, but it would be nice if Chekov could visit his quarters without trying to hide his flinches at his various leafy roommates.
11th-Jul-2009 10:18 pm (UTC)
To his right, yet another security screen flicked on. It displayed Lieutenant Sulu, alone in the flora sector of Science. Scotty vaguely remembered something about the man's original major back at the academy being botany.

The security feed switched to the hallway, where he could see Ensign Chekov walking towards the gardens.

Scotty sat back in his chair. This might be interesting.
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