☆ ᴛᴇsᴛ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ 01 ☆

[statusreport]

Welcome, cadets! Wanna dip your toes in the pool? Have a new character you wanna try out? Interested in the setting but not sure if your character's a good fit? Welcome to the first official Test Drive Meme for Illyria, for all your test drive needs! There are a few prompts for you to choose from below, or you can make up your own starter if none of the choices tickle your fancy. Threads from this meme can be counted as game canon if you like, if you apply and are accepted, so you don't have to meet someone again for the first time. Reserves are open at this time. Have fun!

☆ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs ☆
A. Arrival: You wake up disoriented, finding yourself on what appears to be a medical bed. As you try and sit up, a young woman with blond hair pulled up in a tight bun stops you, urging you to take it easy. You were found in the cargo bay unconscious with a few other people, and while she's not sure where you came from or how you got here, you're here for the long haul, now. As you look around, you see a few other people in beds like the one you're lying on--do you recognize anyone from home? Or are these people complete strangers? Do any of them know what's going on, or how you got here? The only way to find out is to ask them!

B. Mealtime: The Illyria isn't a big ship, so the mess hall isn't very large, but there's room for a few tables with chairs, and there's a bank of replicators along one of the walls. You can ask for anything you want, from a simple cup of coffee to turducken to some nice fresh gagh. Looks like some other new arrival is having some trouble with their machine, though. Gonna give them a hand? Or maybe you've gotten your plate of food, but the only open seat is at an occupied table--perhaps introductions are in order. Mingle! These are going to be your crewmates for a long time, it seems.

C. Going up? Man, this ship is a mess! That trip across all those galaxies sure did a good job wrecking things. You're not sure about these turbolift things, but it beats climbing ladders and crawling through tubes to get to the other decks. As you step into the lift, maybe there's someone already in there--or maybe someone steps in after you, but either way, you're not alone as the lift begins to ascend. Things seem to be going well for a moment, and then there's a loud screeching sound and the lights go dark as the lift stops dead in its shaft. Well, now what? Do you and your company try and fix the lift? Do you try and call for help? Do you crawl up into the shaft and try and make your way to another deck through the Jefferies tubes? Who knows what peril may lie in the corridors between decks--do you take the risk, or wait to be rescued? Time to see if you're Starfleet material or not!

Comments

[captains_log]

He wasn't the only one who prided themself on their observational skills. She saw him tense up, however subtle the change was, so at least she knew he could hear her. Giving a soft sigh, she paused for a moment. She supposed she couldn't really fault him for being unsettled by all of this. Hell, she was unsettled, and she hadn't even been displaced the way these people had. At least she still had her ship and some of her crew--did any of these strangers even know one another?

"I know you're awake and can hear me," she said after a long moment of quiet, her voice level but benign. "Can you understand me?" It wasn't common, but there had been a few cases of the universal translator not being able to decipher alien languages right away. This man looked human, but there was a lot to be said for books and their covers. "My name is Imania. Palu Imania, I'm the captain of this vessel," she said. "You have nothing to fear from us; my crew and I are peaceful explorers, we won't harm you."

[notalwaysstrong]

Mack's jaw tenses slightly, almost as if he's fighting back the urge to speak his mind. Which only had one word; bullshit.

Instead, he settles for the tried and tested method of resisting interrogation.

"Gerhardt, MacDonald James. Master Sergeant. 303rd Logistical Studies Group, US Army."

Name, rank and division. His eyes never leave the bulkhead, either.

[captains_log]

Imania was familiar with the spiel. Starfleet taught cadets the same thing from day one: if captured by enemies of the Federation, give them nothing but your basic information. She was a little surprised that he seemed to think this was an interrogation chamber, though. At least this confirmed he could understand her.

"Mister Gerhardt, you're not a prisoner here," she assured him. "We've restrained you because you injured one of my crew members, but if you'll just calm down and listen for a moment, I would be more than happy to allow you to move about the ship freely." She paused briefly, then sighed again. "Will you at least look at me? No one wants to hurt you."

[notalwaysstrong]

The medical report will state that Master Sergeant Gerhardt was beamed in with severe cranial trauma, as well as being armed with a 21st Century firearm. He definitely looked worse for wear when he arrived.

As far as Mack was concerned, he was injured then abducted from a mission. His team leader was missing, and he was secured to a hospital bed somewhere he's never seen before. All of his alarm bells were ringing, but...

Why go through the trouble of fixing him? He hasn't had a chance to check, can't see himself in a mirror, and can't even reach a hand up to check, but... His head felt fine.

"Gerhardt, MacDonald James. Master Sergeant. 303rd Logistical Studies Group. US Army."

Same spiel, but his eyes do flick from the bulkhead to Imania for the briefest moment.

[captains_log]

Imania hefted a sigh, then turned toward the EMH, waving her over. She requested a particular hypospray, and it was fetched quickly for her, though the blond doctor did look a bit concerned about what the captain must have been thinking. The hypo in her hand, she took a step closer to the biobed.

"All right, clearly I'm not getting through to you," she said, "but as they say, actions speak louder than words. I'm going to remove your restraints." She paused for just a second, her tone shifting just a bit, a slightly harsher edge to it. "However, if you try anything, I have a hypospray full of enough anesthizine to put down a Klingon for half a day."

She pressed a button on the panel beside the biobed, releasing the metal shackles that had bound him by the wrists and ankles, hoping she knew what she was doing.

"As I said: you are not a prisoner here," she reiterated, "but I can't have you injuring my crew. Do we understand one another, Sergeant?"

[notalwaysstrong]

The second the restraints are gone, Mack jerks his arms closer to him, idly rubbing at a wrist. This has definitely got Mack's attention. His eyes finally look up to Imania, flicking briefly to the ridges on the Bajoran's nose.

To his credit, he doesn't stare too long, or do anything that might draw attention to the fact that it isn't what he's used to seeing. Okay, so there may be some truth to what the blonde woman was saying. To be honest, he wasn't paying much attention.

"Why am I here?"

His voice is rough, growling, almost as if he hasn't used it in a while.

[captains_log]

He finally deigned to speak to her instead of just reciting his information, and Imania sighed with measured relief. She really didn't want anyone to feel like a prisoner here--she hadn't invited these people onto her ship any more than she had asked for it to be flung to Prohpets only knew where, but they were all stuck here in the same boat--literally--so they might as well have made the best of it, right?

At his inquiry, though, her expression clouded with something like apology.

"I was actually hoping perhaps you could tell me," she admitted. "You were found unconscious in one of the cargo bays, with several other individuals, as I'm sure the EMH told you. She wasn't pulling your leg, I'm afraid. You're here in Sick Bay because we wanted to make sure nobody was injured or ill, but as for why you're here on the ship, or how you all got here in the first place, your guess is as good as mine."

Though he seemed a bit less alarmed now, Imania maintained her grip on the hypospray. She could understand his confusion, but belligerence would not be tolerated, and until she was convinced he wasn't going to injure anyone else she was not putting down the sedative for anything.

[notalwaysstrong]

Mack is watching Imania as she answers, eyes narrowed, as though hunting for any reason to disbelieve her words. He shifts a bit as she explains that they have no idea how he got here. Not exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Gonna assume ya don't know how to send us back?"

Because that would be too much to ask. At least his head wasn't hurting so much.

[captains_log]

"Unfortunately, no," she replied. "We are attempting to trace the origin of the energy signal that brought you here, but seeing as how most of you seem to come from very different places--and eras, for that matter--I get the feeling our results will be inconclusive."

She let out a bit of a sigh then, regarding the Master Sergeant for a moment.

"For what it's worth, I do apologize," she said. "I hope you can believe me when I say that this hasn't been a good day for any of us, but seeing as how we're all going to be stuck with one another for a bit, I feel that we should attempt to work together." She ventured a thin smile. "As a military man yourself, your expertise would be more than welcome," she said. "If you can see yourself getting back into a uniform, we can give you some crash courses in Starfleet protocol. A good many of my crew were killed by whatever means brought us here, so we're going to be running on a skeleton crew unless some of you qualified guests decide to lend us a hand."

She wasn't ready to put the hypospray down just yet, but she hoped that giving him a goal and the temptation of a bit more freedom might just reach him.

[notalwaysstrong]

A snort.

"You're offering me a job?" He asks, a tad incredulously. Because, seriously, he just laid out one of the security guys and gave a nurse a bloody nose. They must be desperate, or this is some kind of trick.

"Depends. Do I keep my own rank? No offense, but I ain't for all this navy bullshit."

He's mostly joking. Army through and through.

[captains_log]

Imania grinned a little, arching one eyebrow.

"Provided you can promise me you won't dole out any more concussions, I may be tentatively offering you a job, yes," she said. It's definitely desperation, not a trick. Imania had a sense of humor, yes, but she certainly wasn't in the habit of punking people that badly.

When he asked if he could keep his rank, though, she had to laugh. It seemed she wasn't the only one with a sense of humor. Even in the 24th century, the army and the navy--even the space navy--would never quite see eye to eye.

"My good man, more than half my crew has been injured or killed, my ship is dead in space, and I have no idea where we even are," she said, shaking her head. "If you want to be called Master Sergeant instead of Senior Chief Petty Officer, that's fine with me." Hell, she'd call him Corporal Punishment or Major Pain if he wanted. In this sort of situation, rank specifics mattered less to her than having a group of people who knew their jobs and could follow orders to the letter. "So long as you'll still answer to your superior officers and color mostly within the lines, a man with military experience would be a great asset right now."

[notalwaysstrong]

A contemplating pause as he stares at the bulkhead. He could be being used. This still could be an elaborate trick, but... He looks back at Imania, and he can't really detect any lies or subversion from her.

...And he would know. You don't survive Black Ops for the years Mack has without being able to tell if someone's lying. Well... He'd know if a human was lying. Unless said human was very good at hiding it.

"Well, I never liked bein' called petty." He remarks, half-jokingly. "But get me up to speed, stick a gun in my hand and point me at the enemy, and I'll at least promise not to clock out no-one who don't deserve it."

[captains_log]

It's true Imania's not entirely human, but she's half human, and was raised on earth among a lot of humans, so her mannerisms are definitely largely human. That said, while she can certainly spin falsehoods with the best of them (as any good captain should be able to), she doesn't make a habit of lying to her passengers. Not... that she's really had a lot of experience with passengers, but the point still stands.

At the 'petty' joke, she snickers--at least he's in good humor--and then taps her chin.

"A 'gun' would be a bit outdated anymore, I'm afraid," she says, gesturing to the phaser at her hip. "Rather inelegant weapons anyway, if you ask me. However, if you are truly interested in joining the security team, which I do agree seems it might suit you very well, I can provide some reading material to familiarize you with Starfleet protocols." She gives him a slightly chiding look then, like a teacher might give a student known for being a bit of a troublemaker. "I suggest you familiarize yourself with the very heavy line between what rules can and cannot be bent, Sergeant," she says with good-natured severity. "I'll discuss with my senior staff how we'll go about recruiting new crew members to fill the positions of those we've lost, and I can let you know once a decision has been reached."

She offers her hand then, hoping a handshake will serve as a bit of an olive branch. She can tell he's still quite uncertain and perhaps even a little afraid, but he'll find no ill will here, at least not from her or from her crew. If he can find it in himself to give a little benefit of doubt, this may be a very beneficial arrangement for both of them.