ten_fwd | Holodeck

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Holodeck | OTA

"Oh my God."

If Archer had his way, he'd be at the bar right now. But Q, being the massive dick he is, thinks Archer drinks too much (as if!) and has prohibited him from consuming alcohol aboard the Enterprise, pending a series of field agent evaluations.

Which basically means no booze for Archer. Until and unless he plays around in the holodeck for a bit. And Archer needs his booze.

(Seriously, if he goes cold-turkey, the accumulated hangovers will probably kill him.)

The first simulation is set atop Mount Yamatau, the highest mountain in the Southern Urals. Today, it also happens to be the coldest, at 20 degrees below zero.

(If you think of it as basically being the part of the dream in Inception with all the snow - you won't be too far off the mark.)

Specifically, Archer's mission is to infiltrate the Soviet nuclear facility at the base of the mountain, find evidence that they've weaponized a biochemical compound called - oh, to hell with it, he wasn't paying attention during the briefing anyway. There are Russians, he has a gun. He can't go wrong by shooting them.

"I feel like my testicles are literally shrinking back up into my body," he says, brushing snow off his suppressed Steyr AUG and camouflaged snow clothes. "Seriously, I bet if I took my gloves off my hands would be popsicles in thirty seconds."

He stops, looking around. Hopefully the swearing has attracted someone he can sucker into sharing the misery with.

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Grainne seemed to keep barging in the holodeck when it was otherwise occupied. This time was... one of the least pleasant intrusions she'd made though. She blinked around at the snow covered ground and dusted herself off of snow that had managed its way on her thin white summer dress.

"Oh, apologies. I'll come back later." To add insult to intrusion, she didn't seem affected by the cold at all.

"No-no-no wait-wait-wait-"

No, new person! Don't go! Archer will probably never make it through the mission without someone to play straight man to him!

"-um. I mean. Would you like to infiltrate a Soviet biochemical laboratory and - blow it up, or something?"

Beat.

"-and then maybe get a drink later?"

Edited 2016-01-25 19:27 (UTC)

(In)Conveniently, the Throne of Heroes nor her Grail knowledge let her know what a 'Soviet' was. Honestly, she didn't spend much time absorbing popular culture, either. Or watching the news.

She gave him a long, blank stare for a moment.

"Oh, a war game?" That had to be the explanation here. She knew a lot of those recreations were around. A drink...

But, why not? "All right."

"Sweeeet."

Lo and behold, Grainne is immediately laden down with gear, to include her own suppressed AUG, a grey watchcap and camouflaged thermal coveralls, and a load-bearing vest within which rests spare rifle magazines and a handful of flashbangs.

"Full disclosure - I'm actually not all that sure what we're supposed to be doing. I was on Tinder during the briefing."

The load also didn't seem to bother her, for all that it was cold, and heavy, and most girls would be complaining about now. She looked a bit like a model crossed with Rambo once she got her gear on.

Some of the gear she has no idea what to do with. Don't mind her waving the AUG around like it was a wand.

"If it is a game, perhaps it doesn't matter. What's Tinder?" Social media hadn't really been a thing yet in 1997.

"It's this app people have on their - wait, what?"

Before he can properly comprehend that some people come here from a world without smartphones, the holodeck gifts them both with in-ear radios as the wind picks up and the blizzard worsens. A voice comes through their radios, loud and clear despite some inherent distortion.

"Kilo One, this is Bigeye. We have you on T.A.C. We'll be your eyes and ears to the comms relay, over."

Oh, this. Grainne knew about these things, military stuff. She placed the radio deeper into her ear. She could see just fine in the blizzard, but it was more fun playing along, and not using magic.

"Where do we go?"

"Kilo, you need to move east. Bearing zero-eight-one."

Grainne will be able to see they're on a gently sloping ridge just above a narrow asphalt road. It looks well-traveled, and in the distance is a small nondescript building on the roadside. It certainly doesn't look like a communications array.

Archer grumbles as he takes out his compass. "'Ooo, lookit me, bearing zero-eight-one, I can read a compass-'"

"Kilo, be advised you've got a hot mic."

In lieu of a response, Archer looks to the sky and flips the bird.

It was incredibly rude and stupid, but Grainne couldn't help but snicker just a little.

Hefting her gear like a burly five hundred pound man made out of muscle, Grainne started off in that direction. She didn't know exactly what a communications array was supposed to look like.

"Are there any people down there?" She asked, wondering if she would actually have to use the gun.

Before Archer can answer with a smartass comment, Bigeye cuts in.

"Affirmative, squad-sized element patrolling along the road. We'll give you notice when they're close."

Archer rolls his eyes. "Oh, please, they're Soviets. I'd be surprised if their economy allowed for a logistical supply chain more complex than vodka and beets."

Vodka? Oh! Maybe she had heard of 'Soviets.' Russians, that was it. Maybe she should focus on learning more about modern affairs than stick her nose in history books.

"Beets are not so bad if you have the right herbs to flavor them. Beets make a very nice pie, too. Are we to kill them or avoid? These guns might give us away if we fight too early."

It was strange, but she was actually enjoying herself.

"Engage at your discretion, Kilo One. Bigeye out."

"Well that's a fat load of help."

Now that they're off the ridgeline, a few things will become clear to Grainne. The first is that the snow is semi-deep, about up to her shin. The second is that the nondescript building from before looks pretty well-abandoned, or at least uninhabited. The third is that headlights are rounding a bend in the distance

"Mounted infantry coming your way, Kilo One. Get off the road and into the house."

"Roger!" Grainne was learning fast. She eyed the house and then started toward the house in a way she thought would be easiest to avoid being spotted. This kind of thing she was practiced in, having scouted the whole of Fuyuki, finding all the good spots to retreat to during the Holy Grail War.

Still, she kept her sharper than normal hearing out for any bumps or noises coming from the house. They didn't need any surprises.

They're lucky - the house is deserted, and looks and sounds the part. Upon further inspection of its interior, it looks to be some kind of weather station. Old computers and weather radars take up lots of wall space, but there's a layer of dust on a lot of it. Nothing's been touched recently.

"Oh-my-God. Central heating. Thank you, Jesus."

Oh, yeah, and it's also remarkably warm, considering there's a raging blizzard going on outside.

Bigeye gets back onto the net. "Okay, they're passing by the house."

It's easy to hear the truck engines coming closer - they're not much louder than the winds outside, but they're loud enough.

Which makes it all the more conspicuous when those engines stop.

"Wait. They're stopping."

And now voices speaking in Russian are approaching the door. Archer, in a rare moment of rationality, takes this opportunity to hide behind a massive bank of computers.

"Enemy infantry incoming. Hide or take 'em out. Your call, Kilo One."

Two things occurred to Grainne in the seconds they heard the truck stop. It was strangely warm, and that implied it was waiting for occupation, possibly having someone else in or near the house.

Secondly, they were probably screwed.

Grainne squeaked and ducked behind the computer bank next to Archer, her small frame an easy fit.

And now the Russians enter, bringing with them the winter winds as the door opens. It's closed soon enough, and there looks to be about six men spreading out throughout the room. It doesn't look like they're searching for something - they're speaking in relaxed, conversational tones, and some are leaning up against the wall. By all accounts, it looks like they're taking a break from their patrol. They'll be out of their hair soon enough.

Well - they would be, except Archer takes this moment to stand up and take aim with his AUG.

"THIS IS FOR RASPBERRY VODKA, YOU DICKS!"

With a squeeze of the trigger, he unleashes a spray of automatic fire that catches the Russians with their pants down. Two fall already as the rest scramble into cover.

"Kontakty! Paren' ubit!"

"Ubey ikh!"

Edited 2016-02-09 01:56 (UTC)

Grainne was too late to reach out and stop him, and in the split second she had before the Russians start reacting, a thought vaguely like 'but why' crossed her mind.

The others didn't get much time to get cover before Grainne was moving, using her full super-human speed to her advantage and totally forgetting that this was just a holodeck exercise. One Russian fell down, covered in ice and immediately freezing to the floor, and another tripped over a sudden and rather large patch of ice.

(Really, with Archer, "why not" is a more appropriate question.)

That's four Russians down; two to go. They're panicking, sending scattered shots Archer's way. "My dolzhny rezervnuyu!" one cries - and then a suppressed burst from Archer's rifle sends him down to the floor, and the last one suffers a similar fate, leaving a streak of blood against the computers as he slumps to the floor.

"Kilo, you're in the clear."

(From the tone of his voice, Bigeye seems to have heard Archer's grudge against flavored Russian spirits.)

"Be advised, the road is hot. Take the back door."

"-phrasing."

Grainne stared for a second in horror at the bloody mess in front of her, before turning and rushing to the back, trying to find that door outside. It wasn't the new company she was running from, it was the scene. As used to war and strife she was, it never got any easier and for the moment she forgot that it was all a simulation.

She found it and stumbled out into the snow, pausing to catch herself and recover. "Oh, and they say video games are bad."

"I know, right?" Archer says, joining her shortly out in the blizzard. " Okay, voice-in-ear-"

"Bigeye."

"-yeah, sure, whatever. Where to next?"

"Follow the trail you're on, Kilo One. It'll lead you to the internal comms array."

The trail they're on is unpaved - but Grainne should be able to see through the blizzard and get a visual on what looks like a medium-sized building with a bunch of radio antennae sticking out of the roof.

Grainne huffed, stilling her nerves, reminding herself it was all just an illusion, and shook snow off her coat.

"I think it is this way. I can see something." She started walking, a bit slower and with much less enthusiasm than before. It had felt too real back there. "Is this what you do for fun?"

"Most of my ideas of 'fun' involve at least one woman over the age of majority and my balls not being frozen to my leg. So, no."

As they come closer, the building becomes clearer - there is writing in Cyrillic on the outside, and what looks to be a very solid metal door. Bigeye cuts into their comms.

"Four hostiles inside. Breach and clear, Kilo One."

Kitt didn't swear. Ever. Not even mildly. Nor had he ever heard so much swearing coming from one person before. That alone was enough to intrigue him, to slow his steps as he strode past the holodeck. Strode past, turned, stopped, frowning, debating with himself on whether to enter.

If the man needed help... Then again, it was the holodeck, and he couldn't really be in danger. But what if it were malfunctioning? What if he truly needed help?

Resolved, he punched the button to open the doors, finding himself immediately atop a mountain in the blowing cold and snow. He wasn't dressed for it, but he was a hologram himself. What was cold to him? The wind was blustery though, so he raised his voice to be heard over it.

"Excuse me, sir! I couldn't help but notice you were cursing at your situation! You do realize that if this particular program is not to your liking, you can end it and find one more suitable? A nice beach, perhaps?!"

It seemed sensible to him.

"Oh! A beach! Why-didn't-I-think-of-that?"

He tilts his head to the sky.

"Holodeck! Engage - I don't know. Gimme somewhere in Cabo!"

Then, a loud and authoritative BEEEP.

Request denied. Scenario privileges locked to outside user.

"This douchebag named Q has control over the simulation, dickweed. He chooses them, I make it through them, and then I get my goddamn scotch back."

A beat.

"-that being said, I'm actually kind of freezing my balls off, and would probably have an easier time of things if you helped out."

"I don't - oh." Kitt also looked to the sky, dismayed by Archer's words. "I know of Q, of course. But... You're doing this for scotch?" Kitt was incredulous. "Really?" His face was torn between amusement and concern. The man must be dedicated, indeed.

"I will help. I hate to see a grown man neutered." Especially for something as trivial as alcohol. He would have to get this story out of the man.

"Yes I am. I can't just go cold-turkey off the stuff. The years of hangovers I've put off would kill me."

Lo and behold, Kitt is immediately laden down with gear, to include his own suppressed AUG, a grey watchcap and camouflaged thermal coveralls, and a load-bearing vest within which rests spare rifle magazines and a handful of flashbangs.

"Full disclosure, I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing. Something something shoot Russians - something like that, I don't know."

"I have to admire your level of dedication to your cause. Q must be very concerned about your liver. Or perhaps this is just his day's entertainment. Either way, how could I refuse?" Especially when Archer is already loading him down with gear?

He shrugs and starts donning the protective clothing and equipment, getting into the spirit of the challenge, until -

"I don't like violence. I am programmed to protect human life." He's holding the rifle awkwardly, gingerly, as if it might bite him.

"-then - I don't know. Something something sneak around Russians? I left my nesting doll disguise at home, though."

It's not like Archer holds any particular grudge against these mooks, the Communist cause, or the struggle of the proletariat. He's just here to do the job, however begrudgingly, to Q's satisfaction.

Suddenly, the wind and snow inside the simulation picks up, becoming a full-on blizzard. The holodeck, in its infinite mercy, grants them both in-ear radios, over which a voice comes loud and clear. It most certainly does not sound like Q.

"Kilo One, this is Bigeye. We have you on T.A.C. We'll be your eyes and ears to the comms relay, over."

"I can sneak. I'm good at sneaking." The car has stealth mode, so why shouldn't the holographic human possess something similar? Maybe. He's still eyeing the gun warily, but its weight and heft are becoming more familiar. And it's not like he'd actually be killing real humans, right? Could his programming distinguish the difference?

Oh, of course not. Get in, get out, get the job done, get the reward. Kitt knows how it works.

When he hears the voice in his ear, it startles him, unexpected as it was. Kitt looks over to Archer, wide-eyed, at a loss, as the snow blows around them. This sort of thing was Michael's forté, not his. Archer will have to take care of this one, for now. Until he gets the hang of what's going on. Q was really enjoying himself with this one, and Kitt wondered what Archer had done to garner so much attention from the omnipotent being.

Archer looks every bit as startled as Kitt is as he presses his finger to the radio. "Um - hello?"

"-acknowledged, Kilo. You're coming in five by five."

"Um - okay. Whatever that means. Listen, do you know what we're supposed to be doing here?"

"-you're kidding, right?"

"How mad would you be if I said 'no'?"

Kitt is becoming concerned by this whole situation by this time, and he stares at Archer intently.

"Do you have any idea of what you're doing? Are the safeties on in this holoprogram?" That seems a valid question to ask, right?

"Um-"

Actually, he doesn't know.

Fortunately, the voice from before pips in to save him getting much more in the way of egg on his face.

All safeties in place for duration of use of holodeck by - ARCHER, STERLING MALORY.

And now Bigeye cuts back in, the tone of his voice suggesting Archer is doing a mighty fine job of trying his patience.

"Your primary objective is to find evidence that the Soviets have weaponized Nova Six, a biochemical compound, at their laboratory at the base of the mountain. Before you can do that, you need to knock out internal comms at the comms relay, then external comms at the satellite relay. We'll talk you on to it."

"Thank goodness." If Kitt drew breath, this would be under it.

Kitt listened to the disembodied voice, wondering for the umpteenth time just what he had walked in on. His curiosity got the better of him again, he knew.

"That sounds easy enough, right?" He flashed Archer a grin, hoping for some reassurance himself.

In turn, Kitt receives a less-than-reassuring shrug from Archer. "Sure, if sneaking past a couple battalions of probably-drunk, definitely-cranky Russian soldiers is your idea of 'easy'. It's not mine, that's all I'll say."

"Kilo, the comms relay is east. Bearing zero-eight-zero. Be advised there are mounted patrols on the road ahead."

Unless Kitt can see through the blizzard starting to form, he won't see more than the gently sloping ridge a few feet in front of him in the general direction of "east". There aren't yet signs of those patrols Bigeye has spotted.

The snow, the cold, the Russians--it's almost like being home again for Dimo. Except there's booze at home. Real booze. Booze that will actually get him good and drunk, after a few bottles. In the meantime, this is actually kind of comforting, for a simulation, but he gives Archer a doubtful look.

"Hyu's gonna vant to get dot looked at," he replies, trying to be helpful. "Unless dot kind of ting's normal for hyu..."

"-what, normal for mammals? It's called - I actually don't know what it's called, but yes, it's normal. Otherwise my nuts would freeze."

A beat.

"So, since you're here - you wanna, like, help me out? Because I'm stuck here until I get this stupid sim thing done."

"Vhy not? Even if izn't getting to fight for real, izn't too bad. Got an extra gun?"

"Um - yeah, I think so. Give me a sec-"

The program itself beats Archer to the punch - Dimo is soon outfitted in cold-weather gear of his own, along with an extra rifle and load-bearing vest, somehow personalized exactly to his liking.

"Kilo One, this is Bigeye. We have you on T.A.C. We'll be your eyes and ears to the comms relay, over."

It would seem an in-ear radio is among the gear Dimo has been given. The voice on it most certainly does not sound like Q.

"Um - fair warning," Archer says. "I have literally no idea what we're supposed to be doing. I was on Tinder for most of the briefing."

Emma isn't paying attention to where she's going when she stumbles into the snowy program. She was intending to train, so she's wearing a plain white jumpsuit, but it's immediately clear that she's unsuited for the cold.

She shrugs, then looks up. "Computer, some weather appropriate gear." A moment later she's dressed appropriately. As a Russian. She looks at her gun, laughing a little. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Well, you've got Russian cammies on, so-"

Dangit. Dangit. One of the first hot chicks he sees on this goddamn ship and he has to shoot her.

Well - pretend-shoot her. It's still non-optimal.

"-I-guess-you-shoot-me!"

But not if he shoots you first, Emma! He dives into cover in a snowbank, letting loose a burst of automatic fire from his rifle.

As Archer dashes away Emma gets a call on her headset. Rather than dive away and miss the gist of the message she turns to diamond and focuses on the instructions.

She's to defend the base from the American spy. Which must mean the man shooting at her. Easy enough. She starts toward Archer's hiding place, ignoring the fake bullets. He could be using live ammo and she'd still reach the same way. "Trying to infiltrate my base? That's not going to happen."

"Oh, come on!"

(A wiser man would take this moment to reconsider his dedication to the bottle. Archer takes this moment to reload, more skillfully than one would think.)

"This is some USDA Prime bullshit! Computer! Computer!"

There's no response. Archer takes this opportunity to squeal girlishly, get up, and start to run back to a felled tree.

Emma appreciates his girly squeal. He's right, it's not fair that she has so many advantages. Superior training, superior powers, superior looks. . . the list goes on an on. So she takes up her gun and turns back to flesh, dashing toward cover. "Are you really a spy or are you just pretending?" She wanted to know how easy to go on him.

"I'm - really pretending?"

Does that count? Is that a thing?

When he thinks she's not looking, he dashes towards another felled tree just behind the one he's at.

"I mean, they pay me, but let's be honest, most of that money doesn't last a week."

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Holodeck | OTA

this is going to be good

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Sorry this took so long! Computer was in the shop and tagging from the phone is a massive pain.

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Sorry this took so long! Computer was in the shop and tagging from the phone is a massive pain.

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Sorry this took so long! Computer was in the shop and tagging from the phone is a massive pain.