Lt Alex Storm - I Promise This Won’t Hurt. Much.

[Karen Morris]

((Holodeck 1 - Deck 2 - USS Artemis-A))

A critical black eye swept the holodeck terrain—slow, assessing, hunting. Her right forefinger tapped against her thigh, a quiet metronome to the scenario building in her head.  The room hung in dampness, and muted cascades of light from crevices high above filtered down through the misty cavern.

Grey and twisted, three tunnels opened into a larger chamber.  Stalactites and stalagmites grew in ragged rows, some fused into thick pillars—perfect for cover, terrible for clear sightlines.  No one fought fair in a place like this. That was the point.

A shiver ghosted down Alex’s spine as a cool draft pulsed from one of the tunnels, across the chamber, and into the opening opposite it.  The cavern wasn’t silent—but the sound lied.  The steady drip, drip, drip hit stone at different depths, throwing off spatial sense, setting teeth on edge, and masking micromovements. 

Storm:  It may not be perfect, but for a first attempt, ::Alex’s grin twisted into a mischievous mask.:: this - is - brilliant.  The cave means that there are echoes, and echoes won’t return from where they originated.  Voices will blur.  Footsteps will smear.  The stalactites, stalagmites, and columns create angles that have to be worked around.  The mist means that shadows and light will require trust from their partner. 

oO Two crewmembers working together can win here—but only if they stop thinking like two people. Oo

She rested a palm against a spindle of calcified stone, feeling its ridges under her hand.

Storm: Let’s see what they do under pressure.

Storm:  Computer, save and end program.  Reset to grid.  Include a pedestal with three phasers.

Computer:  Program saved.

The beautifully constructed scenario evaporated into the ether, replaced by the hard yellow on black grid as Alex made her way across the holodeck and opened the door to see her two victims (she cleared her throat) pupils waiting for her.  An unconscious smile flitted quickly across her face, before she smoothed it out again.  Professional.  Mostly.

Storm:  Good afternoon.  Come on in.

Imril/Bancroft:  Response

Storm: Are you excited, nervous, terrified?  Or the very popular all of the above?

Imril/Bancroft: Response

Alex deadpanned reassurance, but with a hint of fun.

Storm:  Don’t worry.  I promise this won't hurt. Much.

Imril/Bancroft:  Response

~*~

Tags / TBC

~*~

Lt Alex Storm

Tactical Officer

USS Artemis

O240103SK2