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Star Trek: Bounty - 206 - "Any Resemblance to Actual Persons is Purely Coincidental"

Part Four (Cont'd)

“Oh, this is ever so exciting!”

Administrator Trolow clapped excitedly as he watched the unfolding details of the game on the screen in front of him. On the other side of the administrator’s office, Martus Mazur lounged on a sofa sipping a Tarkelean Tea, and making less of an effort to follow along.

“Hardly exciting,” he yawned with renewed confidence after his successful trip to the disrupt the source of the attempted interference, “My crew are almost at the finish line.”

“Ah,” Trolow beamed, “But so are the other crew.”

That was enough to snap Mazur out of his reverie. He jumped up from the sofa in an instant.

“That’s not possible!”

He stalked over to the screen on the desk and took in what the Wadi administrator was cheerily reacting to. And the usually casual and confident El-Aurian snarled in anger.

“What?! How the hell are they closing? That ship of theirs should be nowhere near that fast!”

“Ah, but that was before they rerouted auxiliary power through an iterative feedback circuit and then channeled that energy directly into the warp core,” Trolow reported, “Setting up a quite thrilling end to our game. Ah, games are good!”

“Rerouted the what to the where? That’s just nonsense!” Mazur spat, “How could they have known…”

His words tailed off as realisation dawned on his face. His expression darkened instantly as he turned back towards the door of the office.

“Where are you going?” Trolow asked, without taking his eyes from the screen, “You’ll miss the end if you leave now!”

“I’ll be back,” Mazur grunted, “I just need to check something. Make sure there aren’t any…bugs in the program.”

As he walked on, Trolow simply clapped and watched the finale unfold.

****************************

“It should be just a few more intersections away!”

“You said that a few intersections ago!”

“Try doing this in heels, then you can complain!”

Natasha and Jirel bickered their way through another intersection in the labyrinthine corridors of the Starship Bounty, having already raced their way up fourteen decks and past countless near-identical intersections as they tracked down the Stone of Unity.

Natasha kept up her pace, doing her best to channel her Academy athletics training even as she focused on keeping her balance in the thoroughly impractical footwear she had been saddled with along with the rest of her doppelganger’s thoroughly impractical outfit.

Just behind her, the bruised and battered Jirel was starting to flag.

“This isn’t easy for me either,” he gasped, “I’ve spent the last hour being punched, remember?”

“You really should be used to that sort of thing by now,” she called back.

Jirel mustered a half smile at that, despite the pain he was in. She was right, after all.

“Why the hell is this ship so big anyway?” he wheezed in frustration as they sprinted through yet another intersection, “Five people live here!”

“Just focus! We’re nearly there!”

She reached the next intersection and skidded around the corner, nearly losing her footing as she did so. Behind her, Jirel followed in her wake.

“By the way,” he gasped, “Not that I’m complaining, you understand, but…how the hell did you get here?”

She ran up, but couldn’t help glancing back at the Trill as they continued their breathless journey through the improbably vast starship.

“Someone had to rescue the damsel in distress, didn’t they?” she smiled.

Jirel’s own half smile became a full smile, even as he felt his lungs starting to ache as they rushed down another corridor.

“Now,” she continued, back to business, “Calla and the others gave me the directions, and it should be just along…here.”

She came to an ungainly halt in front of an entirely nondescript door and walked inside. Jirel, glad to be slowing to a walk, followed her.

They found themselves in an almost empty storage room. Rows of shelves lined the walls along the sides and back of the room, but they were entirely bare. Apart from a small piece of rock on one shelf, halfway down the left side of the room.

“Huh,” Jirel panted, “At least it’s not gonna take long to search for it.”

“Guess that’s the problem with lazy holosuite programs,” Natasha replied, “Not as much effort put into set dressing.”

She stepped over to where the unpretentious Stone of Unity sat and lifted it off the shelf. Just as Jirel had feared back in the cavern, she half expected her action to trigger some sort of booby trap that they would then have to fight their way out of.

But she quickly reassured herself that she was being silly. That sort of thing only happened in the real world, after all.

“Ok,” she nodded with satisfaction, “One Stone of Unity, successfully recovered. And the Bounty’s on its way to fetch us, so we just need to hold out here until—”

Her confidence came to an abrupt end as the sound of an angry roar came reverberating into the storage room from somewhere in the corridors of the deck they were on. Despite still not being experts in the program they were inside, it didn’t take long for either of them to figure out what must have made the noise.

“That sounded like…” Jirel began.

“Klath,” Natasha nodded.

With an eight foot tall armour-plated Klingon killing machine now apparently hunting them down, neither of them needed to debate their next move.

They raced off out of the storage room and back down the corridor, as fast as Natasha’s heels and Jirel’s lungs could carry them.

****************************

“Captain Jirel, you appear to be injured.”

The statement of fact from the unflappable robe-wearing form of Sunek carried no sympathy, even as Captain Jirel staggered slightly bow-legged out of the turbolift and into the middle of the cavernous expanse of the Starship Bounty’s bridge.

“Don’t worry about it,” he wheezed as heroically as he could manage.

“I am not capable of worrying about anything,” the Vulcan noted with a raised eyebrow.

“Whatever,” the Trill grimaced, as he gingerly sat down in his mercifully cushioned command chair, “What’s our status?”

“I have dispatched Klath to deal with the intruders,” Sunek reported from the vast wraparound helm station at the front of the dazzling amphitheatre of a bridge, “And we are still on course for our final destination. However, the other ship appears to be gaining.”

“Gaining?” Captain Jirel snapped, leaning forwards a little too quickly and wincing from the resulting rush of pain from his somewhat personal injury, “How?”

“They appear to have found a way to reroute auxiliary power through an iterative feedback circuit and channel the resulting energy directly into the warp core.”

“Ah, damn them! That’s fiendishly clever!”

“Indeed. A most…fascinating solution.”

Leaning a little gingerly back in his seat, Captain Jirel heroically stroked his chin and considered their rapidly deteriorating situation. And, just as he always did, he felt compelled to take the most heroic and exciting course of action available to him.

“Sunek, turn us around. Raise the adaptive shield array. Load all quantum torpedo launchers and power up the phasers.”

“Captain Jirel,” his unflappable pilot replied, “If I may, the logical course of action for us would be to—”

“I know it would, old friend. But like I always say, there’s not a lot that’s logical about—Ow!”

The Vulcan glanced back at the muscular Trill, who seemed to be quietly whimpering as he adjusted his position in the cushioned seat yet again.

“Perhaps you should seek medical attention before—”

“Just do it!”

With another casually raised eyebrow, Sunek turned back to his bank of fully three dimensional holographic controls, and carried out his captain’s orders.

And the crew of the Starship Bounty prepared to do something heroic. Just as they always did.

****************************

“They are adjusting course to intercept us.”

Klath’s report boomed out into the more cramped confines of the Bounty’s cockpit.

“See?” Sunek called back from the pilot’s station, “Now we’re playing this stupid program by its own rules, everything’s going our way. So let’s go shoot down one stupid Vulcan wearing some very stupid robes.”

Denella stood from her engineering console and headed for the exit.

“Don’t shoot them down too much before we get the others safely back onboard. I’ll get to the transporter.”

As she reached the rear steps of the cockpit, Klath called out to her.

“You do realise that you will not be able to beam them aboard while both vessels have their shields raised?”

“In the real world, maybe,” she shrugged back, “But given everything else we’ve just done, I reckon this program will forget about that little problem if the situation suits it.”

The Klingon considered the evident logic of this entirely illogical statement, and nodded back in acknowledgement, if not in understanding.

Without waiting for further questions, Denella raced on down the steps, as Klath focused back on his confusingly upgraded weapons controls. Such matters required his full attention, after all. Despite the ridiculous situation they were in, a battle was still a battle.

“Coming up on them now,” Sunek called out, “Give ‘em hell, buddy!”

The tiny Bounty dropped out of warp almost on top of the enormous Starship Bounty. A split second later, Klath’s warrior instincts went to work. A cavalcade of weapons fire spat forth from the tiny ship, volleys of micro-torpedoes interspersed with flashes of fire from the wing-mounted phaser cannons. Each and every one found their target, setting off fiery explosions across the hull of the other ship.

And this time, thanks to the fact that Klath had coupled a theta-band energy matrix to the phaser cannons, they caused some serious damage.

****************************

“This way!”

Jirel followed Natasha as she dived down another corridor, all the while hearing the heavy thump of the footsteps of their lumbering pursuer behind him.

What the Starship Bounty’s version of Klath lacked in speed and maneuverability, he apparently more than made up for in persistence. Despite leading him on a merry dance through deck after deck of the ship, the mute warrior’s tracking skills were keeping him on their tail.

Aside from his lumbering speed, the only other positive to their chase was the constant roaring and growling from their pursuer, which meant that there was no chance of the brutish version of Klath sneaking up on them.

As they skittered down another corridor, Jirel managed to pant a response in between the deep breaths he was taking.

“Where…the hell…are the others?”

“They’ll be here,” Natasha called back as she rushed on, with the Stone of Unity tucked under her arm like a rugby ball, “Just hurry up. I thought you said you’d been working out?”

“I said…push-ups,” Jirel gasped back, “Not…cardio!”

Natasha ignored his wheezing complaints as she took a right turn and swung down another corridor as fast as her impractical footwear would carry her. Jirel reluctantly followed in her wake. It was only when they got halfway down this latest stretch of corridor that they saw the solid metal wall facing them at the end. They both skidded to a halt in an instant.

“Nice one,” Jirel offered, “Amazing escape route.”

“What the hell?” Natasha snapped back, “Why is it a dead end? What sort of ship has a corridor that doesn’t lead anywhere—?”

Her valid question was cut off by a sudden roar from behind them. They glanced worriedly at each other, and then slowly turned around, already knowing what they would see.

At the other end of the dimly lit corridor, cutting them off from their only means of escape, stood the flashing red eyes and enormous body of the Starship Bounty’s version of Klath.

“Um,” Jirel managed, “I, ah, don’t suppose you’d be interested in negotiating…?”

The monster answered his question with another unintelligible roar, before he began his charge down the corridor towards them.

“So,” Jirel offered as the armour-plated killing machine lumbered towards them, “Any bright ideas?”

“Not really,” Natasha gulped back, “I guess, in a badly-written holosuite program like this one, this is the point where we’d be rescued by some sort of implausible last-second—”

Klath’s scarlet eyes widened in surprise as he saw the shimmer of the transporter effect taking hold on the two figures in front of him.

By the time the enormous warrior realised what was happening, he was powerless to stop himself from careering straight through the empty space where his quarry had been standing, straight into the metal wall at the end of the corridor.

He impacted with enough force to shake the entire superstructure of the Starship Bounty.

****************************

“Got ‘em!”

Denella called up to the cockpit just as the Bounty completed its attack run down the entire flank of the vast Starship Bounty, leaving behind a cavalcade of destructive explosions from their freshly and inexplicably upgraded weaponry.

“Ok then,” Sunek offered to Klath, “Hope you don’t mind me ruining your fun, big guy, but we really should get to that finish line.”

Klath did his best to look like someone who wasn’t actually starting to enjoy the sheer havoc his weapons fire was causing to their holographic enemy, shrugging his burly shoulders.

“Proceed,” he boomed back.

Denella, Jirel and Natasha bounded back up the steps into the cockpit, just in time to see the Bounty take off at warp.

Leaving the heroes in their wake.
 
Part Four (Cont'd)

“Ah! What a truly excellent game that was!”

Administrator Trolow didn’t seem the least bit upset to have found himself on the losing team, as he applauded the Bounty’s crew where they stood in the bare confines of the holosuite.

The Stone of Unity had long since disappeared, as soon as the ‘Game Over’ message had popped up to indicate their victory. As, Natasha was glad to note, had her temporary outfit. She now stood in her significantly more dignified tunic and trousers.

But despite their win, Denella’s terse response to the happy Wadi administrator’s congratulations was still all business.

“Ok, we won. So now, you delete the entire program, right?”

The Wadi’s applause stopped abruptly. But, after a moment, he nodded his head at the Orion with a slight smile.

“Of course. That was the agreement, after all.”

Without any further ceremony, Trolow stepped over to a control panel on the wall of the wire-frame holosuite and tapped a button.

“Computer,” he called out, “Select all programs from the Captain Jirel series, and—”

“Wait!”

The six figures already in the holosuite turned to see Martus Mazur walking through the door, with three sheepish Wadi teenagers in tow. Calla, Devro and Jarro all glanced at the real crew of the Bounty as they entered.

“Before you go and do something really stupid,” the El-Aurian continued, gesturing to the trio he had brought with him, “You might be interested to know that your ‘winners’ here have been cheating the whole time. These three irritants have been helping them from out here. Even found them just now, messing around with one of the holosuite computers.”

As Mazur explained where he had found them, Devro locked eyes with Denella and nodded. Oblivious to that gesture, Trolow looked at the three Wadi.

“Is this true?” he asked, turning back to the Bounty’s crew.

Jirel put his best foot forward and elected to turn on his charm and use his powers of negotiation as best he could.

“They were…giving us some tips,” he settled on with an apologetic shrug, “But that’s only because this is all so new to us, right? I mean, that other team knew exactly what to do. That’s…not exactly a fair way to play a game, is it?”

The Trill looked back at Trolow hopefully, and the rotund Wadi administrator considered this plea, then nodded back thoughtfully.

“Hmm, of course, that is true. Games must be fair. As such, I see no reason not to—”

“Oh no,” Mazur cut in, “Tell me you’re not going to delete the game anyway. After everything you told me about not cheating, these idiots actually were!”

“They were seeking assistance,” Trolow countered, smiling at the three younger Wadi, “From what appears to be three very enterprising young adventurers.”

“If anyone was cheating during all this,” Natasha pointed out, “It was you, Mazur.”

“Me?”

“You were defeated,” Klath added, “Accept that fact with honour.”

“Ugh,” the El-Aurian groaned, “And here’s the big Klingon ‘honour’ speech. Do you see why I made you a mute in the program?”

Klath snarled unhappily back at Mazur, even as he turned his attention back to Trolow, who was still poised next to the computer terminal.

“Trolow, come on. Don’t be an idiot your whole life! The Captain Jirel series is the most profitable holosuite program in Markon V history! Soon to be the most profitable one in the quadrant!”

“Is that so?” the Wadi asked.

“Of course! Once we franchise it off-world, we’ll be the richest people this side of Ferenginar!”

“You still do not understand,” Trolow replied with a shake of his head, “It has never been about the latinum for the Wadi.”

“Well it has been for me,” Mazur fired back unhappily.

“Ok, can we just get this finished?” Denella pressed, “I want that program gone. Now.”

Trolow shrugged and called out again.

“Computer, select all programs from the Captain Jirel series and—”

“Ugh!” Mazur shouted out, “Computer: Copy all Captain Jirel program files to personal database Mazur Alpha-Two-Seven!”

Everyone else in the holosuite whirled around to the El-Aurian, who simply smiled in smug satisfaction at them.

“I’m sorry,” he shrugged, “I really didn’t want to do that. But I’m not losing that program.”

“Wow,” Sunek scoffed, “Do you ever suck.”

“You agreed to delete them, Mazur!” Jirel scowled.

“Ah, no. Trolow agreed to do that. But I did no such thing. And if he’s going to be stupid enough to throw all this profit away, I’ll just have to go and find a new business partner. The Ferengi colony on Gavron VII, for starters—”

Mazur’s expression switched from one of satisfaction to one of confusion as he saw the knowing smile that had suddenly developed on Denella’s face.

“—Wait. Why are you smiling like that? You’re not supposed to be smiling at this part.”

“I can’t help it,” the Orion engineer replied, “You had to make a copy, didn’t you, Mazur. Don’t you remember that little fail-safe you told us about? The one designed to delete any copies of those files automatically?”

“Psh,” Mazur shrugged back, “That’s for unauthorised copies. Obviously I’m authorised to make them.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Denella asked her pointed question and glanced at Devro and the other young Wadi. Mazur’s face twitched slightly as he swung around to glare at them.

“Um,” Devro managed, “W—We revoked your authorisation. That’s what we were doing. W—When you found us.”

“Yeah,” Calla said with more confidence, “And that’s not all. Devro added a little something else, just like Denella asked him to.”

“An extra piece of code,” Jarro nodded, “So when an unauthorised copy is made, it doesn’t just delete the copy, it deletes every Captain Jirel file on all of Markon V.”

Mazur’s mouth gaped open in shock, as he felt an unerring sinking feeling at another watertight plan of his unravelling thanks to the Bounty’s crew.

“W—What?” he managed eventually.

“They’re right,” Trolow noted as he checked the computer terminal, “All Captain Jirel files are being purged. And Markon City’s technical support service is currently responding to seventy-three separate complaints from players who just lost their programs mid-game.”

“B—But that’s impossible!” Mazur stammered, racing over to check the details himself, “It can’t be gone! Not all of it!”

“All of it,” Devro nodded.

The three teenagers looked at each other with a tinge of regret as the full extent of what they had just done to their favourite holosuite program fully hit them. But then, they looked back over at the thankful faces of the Bounty’s real crew. And they felt better about everything.

“Thank you,” the overall-wearing Denella smiled back at them.

“So this was the plan all along?” Jirel asked as he looked around at the rest of the crew, “You might’ve clued me in at some point.”

“You had been kidnapped,” Klath pointed out flatly.

“Well, yeah, but I was, y’know, working on a…plan of my own.”

His somewhat shaky lie was met with a round of unconvinced expressions. Sunek smirked and gestured to the Trill’s face.

“Yeah. Looks like it.”

Jirel reached up with his hand and felt the still-painful scratches across his cheek from the fictional Denella’s attempts to extract information from him that he didn’t possess. Leaving the holosuite program hadn’t gotten rid of those very real injuries.

Realising that he was on very shaky ground, he elected to back down.

“No, no, no,” the frustrated voice of Martus Mazur cut in as he stared at the computer terminal, “All that latinum! Just…gone!”

“Sorry Mazur,” Denella felt powerless to avoid quipping, “Guess this is…game over.”

Her slightly weak joke got an apologetic smattering of chuckles from the Wadi teenagers, but Mazur himself just spun back around on his heels and pointed an angry finger at the Bounty’s crew.

“Oh, very funny. But you should all know that you’ve made me really angry this time. And I’ve still got enough latinum from running this program on Markon V for this long to be able to spend some time thinking about what I’m gonna do next. And whatever it is, I’m sure you’re not gonna like it.”

He stormed over to the exit, pausing to glare back at them again.

“See you around…”

With the merest hint of a smile, he exited the holosuite, leaving behind a slightly unnerved atmosphere.

“Um,” Jirel offered eventually, “You…don’t think that’s gonna come back to bite us on the ass at some point, do you?”

Once again, just as they had done on the Makalite planet, all the Bounty’s crew offered back was an uncomfortable silence.

End of Part Four






The conversation at the end of this scene is deliberately echoing Martus Mazur's farewell to the Bounty crew the last time they crossed paths.
 
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