Glitches

Posted on Feb 13, 2017 @ 1:23am by Commander Jacob Crichton
Edited on on Feb 13, 2017 @ 1:23am

Mission: Holodeck Havoc

= Glitches =

(cont’d from “The Fellowship”)

LOCATION: USS PHOENIX

SCENE: Holodeck 3 - Call Center

STARDATE: [2.17] 0212.2155

Things in the office had finally started to settle down after the dragon attack. None of the employees had been eaten, which Rob would claim was an example of the necessity of frequent and thorough emergency drills. Dave had hoped that work would at least be cancelled for the rest of the day, so that security could sweep the building for the man-eating dragon that had attacked, but much to his chagrin everyone was ordered back to their phones after a meager 30 minutes.

“Back to their phones?” Jasmine Yu asked, quirking an eyebrow at Jake.

“You don’t want to know,” Jake said. “How are things looking on your end?”

Yu looked around. “I believe elements from your simulation are starting to bleed over into mine, sir. I’m seeing some kind of primitive replication device-”

“Photocopier,” Dave grumbled, as he wandered by Jake with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Jake’s eyes went wide. He reached out and grabbed Dave by the elbow. Dave pulled away instinctively.

“Whoa, hey!”

“You can see her?” Jake asked, pointing at Yu.

“Nina?” Dave asked. “Yeah. Not sure why she’s dressed like a knight or something though.”

Dave continued down the corridor towards his cubicle, while Jake looked at Lynette Ryan. “That’s your program, right?”

Lynette nodded. “And I can see Dave on my end now too.”

Jake looked around. He could see a group of Vikings emerging from a break room at the end of a nearby hallway. One of them graciously held the door open for a penguin, who was wearing a tiny necktie colored with blue and white stripes. The penguin waddled out and nodded appreciatively at the Viking, who had a large wooden shield strapped to his back, a dangerous looking axe hanging at his side, and a coffee mug with the slogan “NUMBER ONE DAD” printed across it clutched in one meaty hand.

“Whatever’s going on, it’s getting worse,” Jake said. “I’ve got Viking accountants on my end.”

“That kind of combination shouldn’t be possible,” Lynette said. “Program overlap, sure… but this goes beyond that.”

“How so?” asked Jasmine.

“The computer is synthesizing the different simulations into a single program,” said Lynette. “That requires extrapolating from context in a way that holodecks just aren’t programmed to do.”

“Holodeck malfunctions aren’t exactly rare,” Jake said. He gave a polite nod to Carl the Ratman as he ambled by, on his way back towards his cubicle.

“But never one like this,” Ryan said. “At least, never one I’ve heard of. SImulations can only operate within their defined parameters. They’re designed to respond to what you do, but always within a specific context. But that’s not happening anymore- the characters inside the simulation are seamlessly incorporating the out-of-context information. You’re not just seeing the image of a rat man; the simulated characters around you are seeing it, too, and responding to it as if it’s been a part of *their* program all along.”

“This whole exercise was intended as a test of the refit computer,” Jasmine nodded. “It’s possible the computer upgrades have also upgraded the holodeck processor.”

“When we get out of here, remind me to write a very strongly worded letter,” Jake muttered. “Okay. We have something like ten different holodeck programs all starting to fold in on each other. Worse yet, the holodeck isn’t responding to voice commands, and we seem to be cut off from the bridge. Any suggestions?”

“There are conditions in which the holodeck is designed to automatically end the simulation,” Jasmine said. “In the case of a narrative program, everything shuts down upon completion of the story.”

“I don’t think you could call mine a ‘narrative’,” Jake said, looking around. “I guess it’s more ‘slice of life’.”

“We don’t know that your program is the primary one,” Lynette said. “It could be mine, or Lieutenant Yu’s.”

“Or any of the others,” Jake said. “Okay. Let’s assume the holodeck doesn’t think this is a narrative, and now we’re all just trapped in some terrible existential play. What else do we have?”

“I suppose it might be possible to overload the computer,” Lynette said cautiously “In theory, if the simulation moves beyond the holodeck’s ability to incorporate, the program crashes and everything shuts down. But if all this hasn’t been enough to do that already, I’m not sure what is.”

“First order of business is finding the others,” Jake said. “We’ll have a better shot of thinking our way out of this if we’re all together. And who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and crash the program by being in the same place all at once.”

Jasmine looked around. “How do we get out of here? These cubicles are more of a maze than the one I was running.”

“When I tried to go into the men’s room earlier, I wound up on some old space station,” Jake said. “There were Jem’Hadar there, but with the safeties on I don’t think we need to worry about them. That’s as good a place to start as any.”

They started up the corridor, towards the bathrooms. They’d nearly made it when Rob suddenly stepped out in front of them, his arms crossed, his face doing its best “I mean business” impersonation. Jake came to a stop, as did Jasmine and Lynette behind him.

“You’re supposed to be on the phones,” Rob said.

“Rob,” Jake said, for the benefit of his companions.

“I can see him,” Jasmine said.

“Me too,” said Lynette.

Rob ignored them. “I’ve been pretty lenient with you today, Jake, but if you’re not here to work, then I’m afraid I’ll have to-”

“Later,” Jake said, stepping around Rob and moving towards the restrooms. Jasmine and Lynette followed, leaving Rob, red-faced and stammering, behind them.

“I was talking! Jake! You can’t- hey!”

Jake reached the men’s room door and pushed his way through. Jasmine and Lynette were right behind. Behind him, Jake could hear Rob shouting “you can’t go in there, that’s the *men’s* restroom!”, but he was more interested in whether or not a platoon of Jem’Hadar soldiers were waiting to ambush them. There weren’t any- the metallic catwalk that stretched out ahead of them was unoccupied, for the moment. It was the same Nor-class station as before, and there was enough carbon scoring on the walls that it was easy for Jake to guess what this was a simulation of: the First Dominion War.

That conflict had been more brutal than the Federation’s second war with the Founders, largely in part to how outmatched the powers of the Alpha Quadrant were against the military might of the Dominion. The scales gradually balanced as the war raged on, but in the early days, endless legions of Jem’Hadar soldiers overwhelmed ships and outposts, butchering their crews and destroying whatever technology they couldn’t salvage or booby-trap. And if this was a Nor-class station, it wasn’t only Jem’Hadar traps they’d have to worry about; if there was an active Bajoran resistance cell aboard this station, there could be any number of improved explosives hidden in every nook and cranny. Jake wasn’t sure what would happen if they were “killed” in the simulation while the safeties were on, but he decided they’d better try their best to avoid it for now.

“This way,” Jake whispered. “Watch where you step.”

They moved slowly and carefully along the catwalk, until they came to a ladder. They climbed down one level, and found themselves in what Jake recognized as a waste-processing plant, responsible for repurposing the excretions of a hundred species into something useful to the functioning of the station as a whole. It was a part of the reality of life in space that didn’t bear much thinking about, though Jake was careful to pour out a shot of good whiskey one a year in honor of the poor bastards who got stuck minding the tanks.

The trio picked their way through the tanks,looking for a door that would take them back out into the main corridor. They rounded a bend, and suddenly Lynette gasped and stopped in place. Jake and Jasmine stepped up behind her, their eyes fixed on the tableau before them. A dozen bodies, all Bajoran, lay in neat rows between two of the waste tanks. They all had disruptor burns on their chests, and Jake had the awful feeling they’d been dragged down here so someone could add them to the tanks. Waste not, want not, and all that.

“Those wounds look like they were made with Jem’Hadar weapons,” said Jake.

“How do you know?” Lynette asked.

“I’ve seen them before.” Jake shook his head. “Keep moving.”

“Hold it right there!”

The trio whirled. Jasmine’s muscles tensed automatically, ready to fend off an attacker. She needn’t have bothered; Rob stepped out of the shadows behind them, the white keys of his piano necktie seeming to glow faintly in the dim light. Rob’s hands were balled into tiny fists.

Jake blinked. “Rob?”

“Women are not supposed to be in the men’s restroom,” Rob said, frowning at Lynette and Jasmine. “And *you’re* supposed to be at your desk!”

“You don’t see any of this?” Jake asked, gesturing around.

Rob waved this off. “The restroom is under construction. There was an email about it.”

“This looks like ‘under construction’ to you?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Rob said, but he’d started to look around now. “But now that you mention it, this place doesn’t seem very handicap accessible.”

Suddenly, the world around Jake seemed to fuzz. Everything - his surroundings, Rob, even Jasmine and Lynette - went blurry and indistinct for a split second. In that instant, Jake thought he could see the familiar yellow lines of the holodeck grid, peeking out from behind the bulkhead of the space station around them. But they were gone as soon as they’d appeared, and everything quickly snapped back into focus. Jake, Lynette, and Jasmine exchanged glances.

“You guys see that?” Jake asked.

Jasmine nodded. “Everything seemed to glitch out for a moment.”

“You think it’s because of him?” Lynette asked, nodding towards Rob.

“Don’t try to pin this on me, young lady,” Rob frowned. “Policy clearly states that the men’s restroom is for men only. Our founder’s a Republican, for God’s sake!”

“I don’t know,” Jake said, ignoring Rob’s ranting. “Can we do it again?”

Jasmine glanced down at the Bajoran corpses scattered behind them, then back up at Rob. Then, she stepped aside, so that Rob’s view of the bodies was no longer obstructed. Rob had just started to explain that, while he personally considered himself to have very modern sensibilities, it was still important to respect the policies that upper management had laid down.

“And you know, I read all the same blogs and things as you kids, so don’t think I’m not up on all the current social issues, but we have to--”

Then Rob’s eyes landed on the pile of bodies, and his words dried up in his mouth. He started at them, his expression unreadable. Jake looked around, waiting hopefully for another glitch like the one they’d triggered a moment before. But the glitch didn’t came, and gradually Rob looked away from the bodies and to Jake.

“What’s going on?” Rob asked, his features now ghostly pale.

“You can see them?” Jake asked.

“If he sees them, why isn’t the program malfunctioning again?” Jasmine asked.

“The computer must have incorporated Rob into this simulation,” said Lynette. “If we’re going to have any shot at overloading the program, we’re going to have to hit it a lot harder than this.”

Suddenly, Jake could hear the rhythmic pounding of footsteps coming up the walkway. From between two waste-extraction tanks, Jake caught a glimpse of Jem’Hadar soldiers, streaming into the room from a doorway at the end of a long row of tanks. Jake immediately ducked, pressing himself up against the nearest tank as cover, trying to reassure himself that the waste matter contained within was only *simulated* waste matter. Lynette and Jasmine followed suit. Rob remained where he stood, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Ahead of him, the Jem’Hadar troops closed in.

“Rob!” Jake hissed through clenched teeth. “Get down!”

“What-” Rob started. His eyes landed on the Jem’Hadar as the rounded a tank just ahead of him. The aliens saw Rob as soon as he saw them, and as they raised their rifles to fire, all Rob could think to do was repeat his question. “What?”

The Jem’Hadar fired. Purple energy surged up the corridor, passing through the place where Rob stood a moment after Jasmine Yu had leapt forward, tackling Rob to the metal catwalk beneath them. Once the pulsing ball of energy had passed, Jasmine hauled Rob up and dragged him around to take cover behind one of the tanks. Ahead of them, the Jem’Hadar were already shouting their battle cries and moving into formation. Jake could hear the sound of their weapons charging.

“Open fire!” the Jem’Hadar Alpha shouted. Their weapons roared, pouring purple fire onto the Starfleet officer’s position. Next to Jasmine, Rob was hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes clenched shut against the sounds of battle.

“There’s no weapons allowed in the building!” Rob was shouting, again and again. “There’s no weapons allowed in the building!”

Around them, the program fuzzed and glitched. Once more, Jake could for a split-second see the holodeck grid. Then everything coalesced into solidity once again. Rob was still shrieking, as were the Jem’Hadar, and their weapons poured a rain of fire down on them all.

“Commander!” Lynette shouted over the noise. “What do we do?”

Jake risked a peek out from behind his cover. He clocked at least four Jem’Hadar before he pulled his head back, narrowly avoiding a sizzling blast from one of the aliens’ disruptors. Four attackers, plus however many there were that Jake couldn’t see from his current position. And here they were, with no weapons, and with a hysterical middle-manager in tow to boot. Taking all this in, Jake looked at Lynette.

“We hope that dragon comes back!”

=[/\]=

Shawn Putnam

A.k.a.

Jake Crichton

Executive Officer

USS PHOENIX