..and Really Bad Eggs

Posted on Fri May 3rd, 2013 @ 12:48am by Lieutenant JG Aidan Murphy
Edited on on Fri May 3rd, 2013 @ 12:54am

1,431 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Mission 82 - The Aggressor
Location: Holodeck 12
Timeline: Concurrent

ON:

An oil lamp swayed violently in comparison with the slow back and forth roll of the wooden decks that surrounded them. From a small staircase nearby, a hatch could be heard slamming repeatedly, pushed and pulled by the swaying of the ship and the violent winds above. By all appearances, they were in the lower cabin of an ancient seafarer's ship, seated around a gnarly wooden tabletop. There were about seven of them total, eight if you counted LT JG Aidan Murphy, who was scrutinizing the hand he was dealt from a deck of standard playing cards. Unlike his holographic companions, Aidan did not look like he belonged there with his relatively clean-cut look and his crisply pressed (for once anyway) Starfleet uniform. None of the sailors seemed to notice, however, or care for that matter. They were a motley sort, most of them scarred or tattooed or both, their skin stained with the filth of many weeks out of port without a proper bath, their hair matted and adorned with beads of wood, clay, and precious metals.

A large chest sat open nearby, it's contents consisting of various precious metals, gems, and currency from far distant lands. Treasure, as it were. After all, what was an ancient seafaring program without treasure to be had?

A storm raged on above them, sending unknown items (some of them large) rolling about on the upper deck, dust raining down upon those in attendance below as they passed overhead. During each distant lull in the howling of the wind, men could be heard shouting and scrambling about on that upper deck, attempting to 'keep her steady' as nature unleashed her fury.

Rope hammocks adorned 'bunks' that surrounded the room at it's outer edges, most of them empty save for one in which lay a man outstretched with one hand tucked beneath his pillow, the other clutching what appeared to be the pages of a handwritten letter. Aidan could only guess how that man could read anything in this dimly lit, damp place.

Aidan had been on a winning streak, a fact which seemed to irk the current dealer, who had taken a fistful of treasure with his massive bear-paw of a hand and slammed it down at the center of the table with a grunt. He seemed to challenge Aidan with a piercing gaze when he met the ante, and in return Aidan had watched intently for any slight of hand as the cards were dealt. There was a general air of distrust amongst the men as each made their bets for the current hand. Aidan was the last bet. He looked at his hand - he wasn't too terribly confident, but he remained stoic as he placed his bet, raising theirs just a little. "Fine," growled the dealer. "But I'm calling ya, all o'ya." Aidan turned his hand over, revealing four kings and a three of diamonds. He'd really thought he'd lost, but the uproar that ensued said otherwise. Before he even had a moment to relish his win, the dealer slammed the blade of a knife into the tabletop and leapt to his feet, accusing Aidan of cheating.

"Ah-what--cheater?!" Aidan instantly went on the defense as if the holographic pirate were trying to impugn his honor.

"Aye cheatin'." said the dealer, his tone growing more agitated. "There ain't no denyin it, you've got some black magic about you."

The room seemed to fall quiet, all eyes on the two of them as the storm raged on above. Aidan stared, dumbfounded, at the dealer, awaiting elaboration.

"This man is cursed, I have seen his markings!" the dealer appealed to those in attendance while Aidan spent about ten seconds trying to deduce what "markings" he referred to. "I have seen him conjuring! Using nothing but his words."

"Conjuring?" one of the men in attendance implored.

"Aye, conjuring. Isn't that right, Irishman?" the dealer fixed his dark gaze upon Aiden, who seemed to hold his breath. "I up on the mast when you approached at sunset.." The pirate went on, describing to those around them exactly what he'd seen...

[Previously that same day, on holodeck 12]: After starting one of his favorite programs, Aidan walked barefoot out onto the upper deck of a large ancient seafaring ship. He paused to take a deep breath of sea air as the setting sun coated he and his surroundings in a splash of gold. He is shirtless, his skin pale and adorned with a few small tattoos, the largest of which was placed on the back of his left shoulder. It was an intricate symbol that his step-sister had designed for him, something that aluded in an aesthetic manner to his passion for space flight. He approaches the rail on the port side, squinting out at the horizon, then looks left and right. By all appearances, he is alone.

"Computer, how about a bit of stormy weather on the horizon? let it approach slowly, but build rapidly when it's above our location." In the distance, dark clouds began to build, pouring rain blurred the space between cloud and ocean water, and lightning illuminated the thunderheads in sporadic intervals. Aidan nods, pleased with himself, and walks away. Unbeknownst to him, a man sat high above, witnessing the whole thing and asking protection via a prayer.[/End past sequence. Present:]

The dealer's account seemed to send them all into a frenzy, some of them looking at Aidan aghast while others shouted suggestions regarding how to vanquish their ship of this apparent evil. "Make him walk the plank!" cried some. Aidan began to feel the heat, but chose to stand his ground.

"OY, OY!!" he shouted above everyone else, trying to get them to simmer down at least enough to get the program back on track. 'Note to self,' he thought. 'Eliminate variables that would allow for winning streaks.' He threw a fistful of change back onto the table and got to his feet. "I ain't no cheater, pirate!" he said in a steely tone, as if most of these men couldn't crush him like a bug. A new furious uproar began with the dealer leaping at Aidan. A couple of guys tried to hold the dealer back, while another grabbed Aidan from behind. Meanwhile, men were brawling on the sidelines, chairs were flying, and all the ruckus had begun to bring more men in from the lower decks. Aidan used his training to an advantage, using the legerave from the guy on his back to lift both feet up and push the dealer away as he approached again from the front. Then he began dealing with the guy on his back, who put up a good fight for someone just about Aidan's size. With the man behind him coaxing the dealer, Aidan looked up to see the man approach, this time with the blade that he'd thrown into the table. "Ohh no," he groaned, attempting to steady his stance while wrestling with the guy on his back. In a desperate bid to solve both problems, Aidan grabbed the shoulders of the man behind him as he tucked and rolled, breaking his grip on him and sending him sprawling into the dealer. Aidan stood and took the opportunity to duck around a corner, up a small staircase, and into the galley, where he barred the door shut behind him.

"Computer!! Mead!!" he shouted desperately and the computer complied - tankards of mead appeared on the nearby work surface. Aidan had just enough time to reconsider Plan A before the mob reached the door of the galley. They were banging loudly, shouting obscenities and threats at him through the door. Aidan had to think fast. "Computer, belay the mead! We need whiskey, WHISKEY!! Two barrels and some drinking vessels!" The door was beginning to come off it's hinges. Aidan hurried to pour some glasses, then turned to face the door as he leaned flippantly against one of the barrels of whiskey.

"Computer, delete door and all objects barring it from the inside!" As the door and it's barricade disappeared, several pirates spilled through the doorway, landing in a confused heap on the floor. As they scrambled to their feet, Aidan smiled, a fistful of tankards in each hand. "Hello fellas!" he greeted them with a huge grin and an offer of drink. Naturally, they boisterously accept, seeming to forget ever wanting to make him walk the plank.

Aidan chose to observe as the pirates imbibed long into the night, and everything seemed calm except for the storm above.

TBC?

OFF.

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