Star Trek: Starbase 777

The VR setups made the nose sense for a security officer. Of course she wasn’t required to chose a role that matched with her chosen career, but this was likely the most similar to the sums she had done at the academy. Therefore she would likely be the best at it and therefore more useful in getting a win.

William himself entered the VR setups not long after. Having debated between this or comms, he figured that the VR setup proved just a little more intriguing. He wasn't exactly trained to handle combat situations - at least, not more than any other officer. That being said, the simulator might offer the opportunity to actually work on those skills - and that was what eventually caused him to make his decision to come here.

Praying that the VR setup would fit over their helmet, Nenn wandered over with some of the others to the rigs with a bit of curiosity.

"Let's whoop some motherfucking ass!" Eiheu announced as she walked into the room casually, throwing her hands in the air. Hopefully nobody will come too close to her while wearing the VR headset, or they may get accidentally punched.

In he entered, as gracefully as you could walk into a room. The way he walked, you would think the world was his runway - but if you looked closely, his posture did hint at fighting experience. The ol' beauty & brawn combo. Though, if you asked him, they were one and the same. "So... Team name ideas? I've got Team 'uSqan, but I'm taking other suggestions." (edited)

“Hell yeah!” They cheered, a little bit scared of this lady but appreciative of her attitude. “That one kind of rocks.” They mumbled, “I’m down for it.”

1

"I like Team 'uSqan!" Eiheu nodded, immediately approving of the Klingon.

He gave Nenn a warm smile. "Thanks, darling. It means 'Team Iron'." Eiheu already knew that, though.

“Ooh, sick. Like some kind of guild.” They chuckled, nodding along, “Oh— I’m Nenn, by the way. I need names to remember y’all.”

"You can call me Eshen, for now. I hope we achieve victory together." He held out a fist for some sick fist bumping action.

"Well, I guess you could say that's a pretty solid name." William said, trying to make a lame pun about the name 'iron'. Approaching the rest of the conglomerating group, he started hearing about the talk of introductions. "Right, yeah. I'm William. Nice to meet y'all." He said. He shot Eiheu a quick smile, having met her before on a different occasion, so it was nice to see her again.

Accepting the sick fist bump, Nenn nodded. “Good to meet you all. Let’s fuck shit up and take names.”

She might have made a mistake coming here, all of these people were really intense. “I am T’Shael.” She said anyway.

3

Eiheu smiled at William back. Let's see if this diplomacy friend can also be a kicking-ass friend!

You say the pun is lame, but he DID laugh, so was it really so lame? It was a very measured laugh, though - like the platonic ideal of a laugh, the kind of noise you'd have to practice to make it perfect. Which he had. Listen: as a diplomat, he couldn't afford to laugh so hard he snorted or choked whenever he was trying to pretend to be amused (or was actually amused) by some old senator's shit jokes. It wouldn't be very suave, would it? Still, just because it sounded practiced didn't mean it didn't still have a warmth to it. "I hope you all remember to enjoy yourselves in this may' ngeb. Competition is fun, but a mock battle has little true stakes in the end." Or does it?

They nodded, crossing their arms. “Yeah, I’m here for the vibes mostly. I’d like a win, but I’m mainly just gonna report back to my spot in the station. No harm, no foul if we lose.” They shrugged, “Although I love the energy here.”

“Woo! Let’s kick ass out there, yeah?” She exclaimed, having gotten over to the VR rigs.

"Kicking ass! Kicking ass!" Eiheu chanted as she attempted to put on one of the VR headsets.

"It's a very good energy," he remarked, as he listened to everyone talk like they were a pokemon called Kicking Ass. "Has anyone else done something like this before? Battle sims in the holodeck, perhaps?"

3

"Yeah, all the time!" Eiheu replied excitedly. "I've even done one really recently! Other than the terrible injury, it went great!"

"Not in a long while." William responded, navigating over towards the VR headsets himself. He took one of them into his hands and examined it, finding the whole contraption a bit... interesting. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "And not with anything quite like this." (edited)

"I see. Well, I've done a few things like this, so I'm hoping that experience will help us all win together. Teamwork, dream work, etcetera." He picked up a headset, wondering if it would accommodate his pointy forehead ridges. Probably, right? No way they weren't expecting a pretty diverse audience. Perhaps it was some kind of adaptive material.

“I’m a fan of those. I get what you mean.” They hummed, reaching for a headset as well, “See you on the other side, soldiers.”

Sak, a little later than most came into the vr-setup. It was jaw-dropping, really. He'd never seen a vr-setup quite like this, much less played in one.

“I am mostly versed in training simulations for security.” T’Shael added, picking up the headset and taking a good look at it. She wondered if it would be anything like a holodeck.

Sak also picked up a headset, and turned it around, examining it, and its wiring. "So uh, how exactly does this work again?"

Soon enough, attendants started swarming the VR setups, strapping everyone into their very own virtual reality rigs. They all came with headsets to communicate, gloves that tracked hand movement precisely, and all players were tied by the waist into a frame that kept them on a walking pad, so they could move around in the virtual world without having to do anything but walk. "Your characters are all still on a ship at the moment, but you will be dropping down to an actual battleground soon. If anything pinches or you want out of the rigs, please let us know."

Into the thick of it. Obviously. Terahl hummed, moving his notebook to his back pocket as he was strapped into it. He'd need his hands free after all!

“Oooh… hell yeah.” They nodded, “Let’s go, folks. Battle time.”

William gave a slight "thank you" to one of the attendants that strapped him in. After being strapped in, and now putting on the sensor gloves, he looked towards the rest of the group. "Well, this is a bit different. What do y'all think?"

As the attendants came, Sak put the headset when he picked it up, and stood still as an attendant helped him. As the attendant put gloves on him, Sak gave a tiny nod. As he was fully 'suited' up, he wiggled his fingers to get a feel of the new gloves. "Honestly? I'm pretty excited and confused, mostly excited."

“This is the most advanced VR tech I’ve ever used.” They commented, “I went to VirtualCon last year, and this is… ten times better than anything I tried there.”

"Oh wow, so this is new?" William said, having put on his gloves. He now inspected the virtual reality headset - something he would soon have to don. "How does it compare to the holodecks?"

“Pretty fresh, I think.” They hummed, “Definitely more immersive.”

"Last I checked, holodecks don't have the constant reminder of something around your head," he sighed. He hoped he wouldn't have marks after this.

T’Shael thanked the attendant, though they hadn’t been assisted when I came to putting something on since they were a young child. “I believe it should be fine.” She said to Terahl. “But if you have issue with it, then I believe the other stations are less equipment intensive.”

"And miss the front lines? You kidding?" Terahl flexed his fingers around the controls, not touching anything yet, but ready. "I'll be just fine."

As soon as everyone was strapped in, the scenery in the VR helmets changed from a loading screen to a dark room, illuminated only by dimmed lighting that served to make consoles usable. There were people walking around, all in bulky armoured suits, though very, very few of them actually looked to be Gorn. Even amongst them, the players stood out, their suits taller and slightly (though visibly) slimmer than those belonging to the people who were walking around more freely. "Systems online," came the first callout, which prompted a formation to start forming behind the players. "Five minutes to destination."

Once Eiheu was all fitted into the VR equipment, she immediately began to walk around the VR environment, despite not really knowing what to do yet. The first thing she decided to do was to give one of the consoles a big old slap.

“Yeahhhh, baby, VR time!” They cheered under their breath, jumping at the sound of the newcomer slapping a console. What the fuck, man.

The suit was prevented from making contact with the console, stopping just short of the metal interface. "Please refrain from attempting to damage the equipment," came a warning that only Eiheu could hear.

4

Eiheu sighed with audible disappointment. "Can't even damage the equipment. Terrible game." She said, jokingly.

"We can hear you, pipsqueak," came a gruff, modified voice from inside one of the other, bulkier suits.

Nenn snickered, trying to keep it down as he listened. “Girl, put on your headset.”

This is who they’d be working with to play the game? T’Shael was not a pessimist, but this was not a good sign. She said nothing.

"Oh, you can hear me, huh? Good! MAKE THE CONSOLES DESTROYABLE!!!" Eiheu shouted back to the voice who spoke to her. "It can't be hard to program that in, right?"

""You're in a war, not a demolition company. Fucking control yourself." The same person replied again, though they got slapped by one of the other bulkier suits. (edited)

4

“Hey idiot! Chill for a fucking seconds, will you? God, they really do hire anyone here..” She snapped in Eiheu’s direction, walking around a bit to get used to everything.

"Don't know what kind of wars you've been fighting, but in my wars, I demolish shit..." Eiheu said under her breath. Of course she had to be the one to have the last word.

“Good lord. This is a game, guys.” They muttered to themself, adjusting the settings on the fit of the headset, “It’s not life or death. Take a deep breath.”

"We've been fighting this war, and we tend to try not to demolish our own goddamn equipment, you fucking smartass," the gruff voice said, before turning to Nenn's avatar with an aborted sound as their companion smacked their shoulder again. Then they quieted down. "Two minutes," came a second callout. (edited)

“The hell did she do to you, dude? Breen soldiers aren’t this uptight.” They snorted, shrugging as they shifted their weight from one leg to the other. (edited)

The woman, the one causing the problems. She had been wearing a Klingon uniform. Well, she seemed, to put it kindly, not the best the Klingon Empire had to offer. She was probably a crewman from a visiting ship, hopefully. Though the Caitian’s comment on hiring anybody here made her doubt. But surely the commanding officer on the Starbase wouldn’t put up with somebody like that. T’Shael had no intention of learning more about the situation. It seemed detrimental to the game. Two minutes.

3

"Two minutes guys, how do we feel right now? And do try to stop damaging the equipment, you're only making the game harder for yourself." Sak directed the last comment to Eiheu.

"They didn't even let me damage the equipment!" Eiheu complained. "Also, who cares? It'd probably spawn back in anyway if we all leave the room and enter it again..."

“The equipment spawns the stuff, man!” They huffed, “Can’t have VR without the reality part.”

"Think of it this way, if you break the equipment, no fighting for you."

Terahl tuned out the moronic bickering around him. He was just here to see everything first hand, after all, he told himself. It was just a simulation. It was enough to bring that hunger back into focus.

"Destination reached. Prepare for transport." The suited NPCs stayed in formation, while smaller NPCs who were not nearly as bulky but still fully armoured and helmeted swarmed in and supplied everyone, including all players, with souped up disruptor rifles. "The objective is to enter Camp Kharghivkan and liberate as many prisoners as possible. Any violence necessary is warranted, and any person saved will make it worth it. Let's go," one of the NPCs in the formation explained, and then as soon as everyone received their weapons, the smaller NPCs vacated the room, and the crew was transported down to the planet, into the middle of a grassy field. In front of them, a tall building stood, maybe a half mile away and at least four stories tall, with wide walls that seemed to stretch on for ages. This must be Camp Kharghivkan.

“Fuuuuck yeah. This is my kind of thing.” They lit up, “We all good to go?”

"Oh shit, this is so exciting, i'm ready to go kick ass."

T’Shael looked around, trying to get her bearings. She looked towards the giant prison camp, there was the target. She looked around at her fellow players and took headcount. She adjusted her rifle and nodded. “Let’s go.”

"You're our strongest fighters," one of the NPCs said, having grabbed their rifle and holding it in their hands, ready to aim and fire at a moment's notice. "We're following your lead."

This was a little familiar, wasn’t it? Maybe in a different setting, but they still had some muscle memory. “Alright.” They nodded, gripping their rifle tightly, prepared to follow T’Shael.

Sak slings his rifle over his right shoulder, and gives a curtly little nod, also ready to follow T'Shael.

She knew it was all just a game but really? Trusting the 20 year old cadet who didn’t play video games? Well she wasn’t going to say anything about it. She led the group the the structure.

The NPCs nodded to each other, each unholstering their rifles and following after T'Shael with the others.

Sak suddenly stopped after a few seconds and addressed the entire group. "Guys, wait. What's the game plan? What do we do? Its not like we can just shoot stuff up and expect it to work. And remember, violence only when necessary, so this is a stealth mission, probably. We need a good plan, and fast."

Wow! This was just like call of duty 3847, except it didn't suck ass. "I think plans are tactical's job? We could ask them what information they have about the camp. Some sort of floorplan would be nice."

3

“Good point. I’m usually into the whole go in blind, kick ass method but I’m… also not a plans kind of person.” They muttered, tilting their head.

"Floor plan'll pop up on your visor when you enter." The NPCs behind them kept pace easily, despite being shorter than the player-controlled characters. "The plan is to kill everything that wears a uniform, and save everything that wears rags. Do we need something more complicated?"

“I love this so much.” They whispered, absolutely delighted.

Sak rolled his eyes. "Yes, we do. Kill when necessary is the order. We will make this a stealth mission, minimize killing. And don't you think prisoners will get caught in crossfire? Do you want to kill them!?" Sak snapped.

Hmm, very violent game. Not that T’Shael was a strick pacifist, but still. At least it was all just a game. “I do not recall receiving those orders.” T’Shael said to Sak, but he had a point about prisoners getting in the crossfire, unless the game was specifically programmed to be unable to harm civilians. “We should go in with a plan however. We may want to defer to tactical.”

"Do what you want," NPC One, the most vocal of the bunch, said, clearly impatient.

T’Shael listened to what the comms people had to say, and the fact that tactical could not help them. “Tactical cannot help, we are on our own.” The young Vulcan reported and continued walking towards the camp.

"Let's fucking gooooooo!!!!" Eiheu grinned as she held her distruptor rifle closely, and resisted the incredible urge to shoot off a celebratory shot. "This is the best game ever!!!!!"

As they continued moving, there was no sign anything was amiss yet. No alarms raised, no locks engaged, no weaponry aimed at their bodies. It seemed, mostly, very quiet, though the occasional loud clatter of metal on stone could be heard the closer they came to the building.

Terahl remained quiet as he could to fully immerse himself. He wasn't used to being directly on the front lines— more a watcher sneaking around than an active participant— but it was proving exciting!

There was no time like present, at least that’s what someone in her group therapy used to say. She guessed it was fitting for this as well. If there was a door, T’Shael approached it.

Just a bigass front gate, yes. It seemed almost too easy, but, well, the Gorn needed to get in somehow, right? The building looked even taller and more imposing up close, definitely helped by the fact that what is four stories for a Gorn would fit five or six for a human, to account for their extra height. There was no lock engaged currently, and the gate could be pushed open without fanfare.

“Huh. That was easy.” They stated, unceremoniously, unaware of the shit probably about to be pulled on them.

"Alright, let's shoot 'em and loot 'em." Maybe some of them would have even bigger guns they could steal!

"Sounds like a plan to me," Terahl chirped.

“I’m down for that.” They nodded, adjusting their grip on the rifle.

"I'll take that as a majority go-ahead. Alright, weapons at the ready." Then he busted that motherfucking door down!

20:37

(Metaphorically speaking. It was a big gate. It probably wasn't going to get very busted when opened forcefully.)

The NPCs followed along after Eshen, their game faces on. Well. Metaphorically. Their faces weren't visible under the helmets. The gate indeed did not get busted, but as they all filed in, they came face to face with a rather empty hall, filled with some large, unarmed Gorn guards and not much else. The walls contained large maps, that when looked at created a sort of minimap in everyone's vision as soon as they were adapted by the helmets. There were other large images, that looked like work schedules and propaganda posters, but they were not being translated by the helmets in the same way the maps were. (edited)

Disregarding whatever ethical considerations there may be about shooting unarmed combatants because this was nothing more than a video game, he shot the guard immediately.

Yay! Time to shoot people! C’Tessa did not care about ethics, because this was a fun game and she had a cool gun, so it was obvious that she should be using it. She also shot at the first guard she saw.

The two guards that were shot went down immediately, the disruptor rifles taking chunks out of their bodies before they fell to the floor. It caused the other guards to start mobilising, reaching for anything they could to fend the attackers off; the NPCs behind the crew took the opportunity to start shooting too, though, and with a shout and the clattering of equipment onto the ground, the hall was silent once more. From the maps now loaded into everyone's helmets, there seemed to be three ways to go. Directly through the hall seemed to lead directly to a courtyard, entitled "Labour". To the left was a stairwell, as well as the road to barracks of some sort. To the right there were smaller rooms, with labels like "Security" and "Generator" and "Laundry".

He took a moment to assess the situation, not paying the bodies much mind. It was strange how easy it was to desensitise yourself to things like this when they weren't real... Although he'd been in enough battle sims and actual combat scenarios that he was pretty desensitised already. Not to mention, he did have some surakian logic running in the back of his mind that kept him level-headed at all times. "We should probably take care of their strongest soldiers in the barracks first. Unless anyone has any better ideas? Perhaps we go to the laundry and shoot holes in their underwear!" (edited)

“I say we kill the soldiers first. Strike while the iron is hot, as they say. The less time they have to resist, the better.” She said, hefting her gun.

“Let’s check the place out first, though.” They nodded, “I like that idea.”

At the mention of killing soldiers in their barracks, an approving hum made its way through the group of NPCs. Seemed like they had a preference, at least.

"Alright, off we go." And off they went.

First was the stairwell, which was blessedly empty at the moment. On the other side of it was a door leading to the barracks, which was opened ever so slightly, almost as if beckoning them in. The barracks themselves were livelier than the hall, if only because the bar was so low. At least this time they were noticed immediately and taken seriously as interlopers, several of the Gorn in the hallway immediately shouting for reinforcements and reaching for their weapons.

“Okay, let’s fuck shit up.” They whispered, aiming their rifle towards whichever simulated Gorn was closest and preparing to fire.

So basically, he started blasting. Behind some cover, of course, if he could find any. He wasn't sure what the failure state of this game was, but he wasn't risking getting shot when the fun had barely begun. Shit enfuckened.

“Let’s dance, baby!” She said, firing first at the closest Gorn.

“Woo!” They took shot after shot, pausing to reload by ducking behind Eshen with a chuckled apology.

With almost shocking casualty, T’Shael raised her weapon and shot at the nearest Gorn.

Shots were fired on the Gorn side as well, targeting the larger, bulkier bodies of the players first. Nenn received a shot to the shoulder, which meant their left arm was less steady and strong, while C'Tessa, tall for once in her life, received a shot to the leg that made her avatar walk with a limp. T'Shael suffered a headshot, obscuring half of her vision. Still, the Gorn were clearly not ready for an attack, and as the people in the hallway were eliminated, the seven NPCs fanned out, hoping to flush out and eliminate all Gorn officers currently there. If not for the fact that disruptor wounds were immediately cauterised by the energy release, the blood would probably be spattered halfway up every wall in the barracks.

“Fuck! I hate being tall!” She complained, but she was honestly kind of thrilled with how taking damage meant real consequences for the avatars.

“Ah, balls! Fuck!” They hissed, “Curse my having shoulders.”

T’Shael grunted, having her vision obscured was more annoying than anything else. Especially during a shooting game “Does anyone know if can can regain health in this game?” They asked, continuing to shoot at the Gorn.

"Only once we get back to the ship. If you're too damaged to continue, we can request emergency transport early," one of the NPCs responded to T'Shael. Altogether, it took a surprisingly small amount of time for the barracks to be cleared, at least at this level. The game seemed to be engineered so that it was accessible to people of all different skill levels. One of the other NPCs, who had been clearing out the individual rooms, returned now, clutching their arm, which had suffered a shot as well. Other than that, it seemed that even the NPCs were coming out relatively unharmed. "Can we check the courtyard?" they asked, their voice desperate even through the modulator, "that's supposed to be where all the captives are kept." Looking on the map, they were likely referring to the area labelled "Labour". One could only assume as to what the captives were being put up to in Kharghivkan.

Was there anyone here who wasn't tall? "Sure, let's go." As he started to leave to get to the labour area, assuming the others would follow, he asked the NPC, "Do you reckon there'll be more soldiers in the labour area than there were in the barracks?"

The NPCs were noticeably shorter than all the player models, which all seemed to be, based on how far off the ground they were as well as the sizes of the Gorn bodies, about seven foot tall each. The NPCs didn't range in height very much, but fluctuated between 5'10 to 6'4-ish. That made all of them taller than the average human, but with a pretty significant difference between models.

“Heh…” They tried not to giggle at the height difference, “Finally, I’m tall…” They listened intently, nodding. Courtyard sounded good.

"Yaaayyyy! Let's go let's go let's go!" Eiheu giggled, holding her distruptor rifle up in the air. Unlike the others, Eiheu's rifle and uniform was stained with a bit of blood, because she, instead of just shooting the enemies, had also decided to kick them and hit them with the base of her rifle - after they were already dead, of course.

"Can you please be careful with that? It can missfire, y'know."

"Oh come on, it's not like you'll die in real life!" Eiheu continued waving the rifle around, then aimed it at Sak for a second. Luckily, she didn't decide to shoot at him, and instead pointed the gun back into the air.

“Let’s go, people.” She sighed, limping on forwards to go to the labor yard.

William, who was totally here this entire time, followed the rest of the group into Camp Kharghivkan. Nevertheless, he arrived a bit late - arriving only after the barracks had been cleared, and when the group was about to enter the courtyard of the camp. He said something about his suit not working properly, but otherwise appeared to have no issues now.

Contrary to earlier, when the NPCs had let the players take point, two of them were now taking the lead, stepping uncaringly over the bodies they had collectively created to get to their goal. There was an urgency to their steps as they made their way back into the hall, and then out into the courtyard. In the courtyard, there was a bustle that had been lacking in every other part of the building so far, the massive area busy with... Well, when the inmates had been described as "people in rags" earlier, that wasn't inaccurate. Much more obviously, though, was that none of them were Gorn. Not even close. They were all... well, some other type of humanoid. Green skin, brown, tan, yellow, blue, grey, all sorts could be found milling about, sweat clinging to hairlines from a heat the players couldn't feel. They were carrying boxes, working machinery, using their strength to do a kind of backbreaking work that frankly, shouldn't be necessary in the year 2416. But then the work itself was likely not the point of it, anyway, just a convenient side effect.

“Uhh… that’s not right,” They hummed, getting a sudden, sinking feeling in their gut that something was very wrong, “Y’all see this? Am I just gorn-blind?”

"I think this is who we're here to rescue." William responded, believing the situation was still normal. "The NPC said we're here to liberate prisoners from the camp - this must be them. Anyone know what species they are?" (edited)

All sorts. Many aren't easily distinguishable, the Bajorans and Vulcans and Trill and Humans and Betazoids and the like all looking the same from a distance. But there were definitely a good few Orions here too, as well as the occasional Cardassian, sometimes a Bolian. People easily distinguished by their skin tones.

No Breen :(. “Mm… a bit of everything. But I don’t see any gorn, which is weird.” They shrugged, “I like that dude’s haircut.”

William laughed. "Maybe we just caught the Gorn off-guard. I don't know if we have a lot of time to speculate, though - let's try to get them out before the Gorn show up again."

Suddenly, one of the NPCs, the man who lets out a cry of anguish, running into the mess of prisoners while shouting incoherently. Even with the voice modulators, it was the sort of sound that cuts through to the bone. The sound clearly startled everyone around, causing several people to stop working to look at what was happening, hollow eyes gazing at the new spectacle, then at the group of players. In looking at the scene, one could find an Orion man, now without his helmet and therefore recognisable as such, holding in his arms a teal-skinned woman, much smaller than himself and thereby covered mostly by his body. You didn't get the chance to look at it for long. Gathered to action by the commotion was a group of guards, clearly assigned to a boring day of watching the prisoners work, who weren't happy that their easy shifts had been disrupted.

“Uh…?” *They blinked. Fuck, they should’ve sent one of the members of their B&B group in their place, this was way too close to past shit for their liking. ~~Cy should’ve thought this through.~~

"What the hell was- oh fuck." William said, interrupted by the sight of the oncoming guards. Raising his disruptor and aiming it towards the Gorn, he shouted towards the prisoners. "Get down!" (edited)

That sounded awfully real. It was a testimate to the quality of the voice actor, or actor, or computer programmer, somebody. T’Shael wasn’t quite sure how the game was made. “Go assist them.” She told, somebody, whoever was closest to her. “I shall lay cover fire.” She aimed at a Gron and shot.

Figuring that he wasn't terribly great with a weapon, William decided he'd be the one to make his way to the prisoners. "On it." He replied simply. He ducked down low, keeping his disruptor in both hands, and made a dash towards the group of prisoners while - hopefully - receiving enough covering fire to make it without getting shot.

Nenn ran along with the two, absolutely out of their depth but willing to go anyways, “God, they must’ve paid these voice actors well.”

While dashing, William responded. "No kidding. Any idea what that yell was about?"

“He looked like he knew her.” They pursed their lips, trying to keep back the nagging feeling, “God, I hope the developers had a laugh at us getting startled. That’s just awful.”

While the NPCs had remained still, at the first sound of gunfire people scrambled and dove, trying to get to the ground as they protected each other and themselves. Close to the floor, below the eyelines of all players, it was chaos, but it did not matter for the approaching Gorn and their weapons, or indeed for the players. At the first shot, Nenn got hit in the side, a part of their suit getting hit that controlled noise control, and suddenly the chaos of the outside started rushing in, every sound of feet scrambling and people shouting and crying out and sobbing a cacophony in their ears.

4

“I can’t… I— fuck—“ Their arms rushed to cover their head, as if on instinct, heart hammering. Fuck fuck fuck. Something seemed too wrong, too real, for any of this for them in the moment. It was like being back, exactly in the position they’d been in when they left the Breen empire. This was a game. It was supposed to be fun! Why weren’t they having fun? (edited)

What the hell was going on? Terahl pulled off his own helmet, moving over to where Nenn was seated and resting a hand on the chair. "Easy, pal. Want me to help get your VR stuff off?.."

With the burst of gunfire, William had instinctively ducked his head lower in an unconscious attempt to dodge the incoming fire. But while he did so, right in his peripheral vision, William saw Nenn take a hit from the fire. Stopping for a moment, he turned his head towards the hit Breen. "Hey, hey. You doing okay?" He simply posited. William crouched beside Nenn, his disruptor raised towards the Gorn once again, although not firing.

“P-please…” They stammered, hearing both William and Terahl speaking to them at the same time— they were fine, they promised, “I— I’m— I’m fine. I’m good.” They clawed at the headset, squeezing their eyes shut. “The shot fucked up my… my audio. Get this shit— off of… off of me.”

"I gotcha." He kept his voice even, calm, moving to pull Nenn's helmet off their head, dodging the frantic scrabbling of the gloves of their suit. It didn't take a genius to know why the Breen wasn't having a good time with the military simulator. The reporter tilted his head, offering his hands and a reassuring smile. "Here we are."

1

In the meantime, William provided his own limited covering fire as Nenn and Terahl worked with each other.

T’Shael looked over to Nenn, then to Terahl, then at William. That was most of the team down, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to continue playing until she knew that everyone she was playing with was ok. She didn’t take off her helmet, but she raised her hand. “Can we pause the game?” She asked any of the techs near her, or Devinn.

They nodded at Terahl, eyes still sealed shut. “…fuckers hit something with the audio. Messed it up, I heard everything. They were all sobbing, screaming, shooting, it was— it was fucking brutal.”

For what it was worth, that was really just an unlucky shot. The NPCs surrounding them really took over the fight, now shooting and dodging as if renewed by a full nights' rest, invigorated by a burst of vitality they'd heretofore lacked. Devinn didn't respond to T'Shael directly, but one of the NPCs did. "There's no pausing it," they said, their voice not unkind but also not patient. "You can leave, but we can't." The avatars of the people who had taken their helmets off, meanwhile, began shooting of their own accord, helping eliminate the threat even without a pilot directing them to, albeit significantly more clumsily.

4

Guilt tripping, she had learned about that in therapy, why were the NPCs guilt tripping her. “What kind of game is this?” She asked, a momentary slip of total control before she got it back. There was something about this game, the situation, that made her raise her gun and keep shooting.

“This is bullshit.” They scoffed, still catching their breath and slowing their spinning thoughts, “Grindbait, maybe? Or something like that.”

"A real-time, multi-tiered battle sim," the same NPC just scoffed derisively, before loosening a last shot. And then... a strained peace returned. There were at least two dozen Gorn bodies on the floor, as well as some prisoners, and two NPCs who didn't make it. But they had a moment to breathe.

Terahl nodded sympathetically, even if he had absolutely no idea what that meant. "C'mon— we can go somewhere else, if you want," he offered to Nenn gently, even if he wanted desperately to get back into the action.

“Wh— huh?” They furrowed their brow, “No, no, I— we gotta stay. I’ll book another counselor meeting soon or something.” (edited)

T’Shael took a few deep breaths, touching her own shoulder where her tattoo was. She took the moment to steady herself. This game was intense, but she still wanted to stay. “Are there more prisoners that we need to get out?” She asked one of the NPCs, glancing around. Some of the prisoners were dead, she had to commend the game for being realistic, even if it was off putting.

"We don't gotta," Terahl huffed, "but fine. Your call." He'd plug himself back in, then.

With the situation now under control, William took a moment to look towards the carnage that had been unleashed in the courtyard. He then looked back towards Nenn, who seemed to be... "recovering". He was no counselor, but it didn't take one to recognize Nenn wasn't doing okay. "Are you sure?" He simply asked Nenn.

“Might as well finish what I started.” They breathed, trying to keep with the breathing exercises they were taught years ago, “Let’s fuck shit up. Maybe if I can fix the audio bit first.”

"Let's worry about these ones first," the NPC answered T'Shael, pressing something on their wrist. Nothing seemed to happen then for a few long, long moments. The NPCs fanned out a little, keeping track of doors and windows, making sure no more Gorn guards would come out while they were there. It took long enough that some of them started getting agitated. And then, slowly, groups of prisoners started disappearing into thin air. It didn't detract from the unsettling quiet, and in fact, the bigger the ratio of corpse to prisoner started being, the more unsettling the quiet became.

“Are they being transported?” T’Shael asked the closest NPC. She knew it was a game, but the developers had done a good job, it felt like she was actually talking to someone. Like in a holodeck program.

The NPC nodded. "Yes, theyre reading life signs and transporting everyone not in power armour in the direct vicinity." The ratio of corpses grew and grew, until they were the only things that remained. The Orion who had removed his helmet had been beamed up together with the person they'd been holding.

William gave a slight nod to Nenn - he wouldn't press the issue further, especially if Nenn felt like they could handle it. He instead looked towards the remainder of the courtyard as the prisoners were eventually transported out. Once they were gone, and all that was left were corpses, the courtyard was left with a truly grim sight. Even if the entire setup was a simulation, the scene provoked an overwhelming sense of duty in William. He began walking towards each of the prisoners' bodies and checked - perhaps in vain - if any were still alive. As he did so, William spoke loudly so the rest of the group and NPCs could hear. "What's next for us?" (edited)

”I’m guessing getting the fuck out once all the prisoner npcs are transported up and then making sure our ships escape in one piece.” Marze, who had totally been there the whole time and deeply enjoyed every second of action she had gotten, spoke up.

C’Tessa just stared at the piles of corpses, hands on her hips. “Yep. Guess it’s time to limp on out of here.”

Eshen, who had also totally been there the whole time and deeply enjoyed every second of action, also spoke up. "Well, are there any soldiers left over in the other areas? We could pick off the stragglers, or take them prisoner... And I still want to see what's in the laundry room." Probably laundry. Unless?

Sak, who had also also totally been there the whole time, spoke up aswell. "I agree, we should look for some soldiers to take as prisoners, maybe they can tell us anything useful. The laundry room, won't that just have regular laundry?"

Finishing up checking through the bodies and presumably not finding any survivors, William grunted - partially in defeat, having found no one alive - as he stood up. He turned and came back to the rest of the group. "Laundry? Oh yeah, good idea." He replied as he walked. Right - the group had cleared out the area around the barracks, staircase, and courtyard, but there was still one direction they hadn't gone. "I think there was a security and generator section over there, too. We should probably clear that out." (edited)

Sak nodded slightly. "Good idea, maybe soldiers are in the security room, monitoring us."

"Keep track of the doors and windows for us first, and shoot anything Gorn," the NPC said, motioning for their companions to move with her. They moved through the bodies, closing unseeing eyes and kicking the guards as they passed them.

William nodded, taking whatever limited cover he could find. He raised his disruptor rifle, aiming towards the doors the last set of guards had just come through. (edited)

“Yes, sir.” They mumbled, holding up their rifle again with what looked to be renewed vigour.

The audio was not fixed on Nenn's suit, but at this point it was so quiet that it didn't matter much. The only thing that was different now was that the quiet murmurings of the NPCs that would have been filtered out before, suppressed by the suits, was now reaching them. "- have to tell Devinn-" "- lost them-" "- they'll want to know-" "- good does it do-"

4

“…huh. Weird.” They huffed. Tell Devinn what? Why? How? They gestured to the other players, trying not to alert the NPCs.

William saw Nenn's gesture, now coming in closer to them. "Everything okay?"

“My audio’s good. But I hear them talking about stuff y’all can’t hear.” They whispered, “About Devinn, they want to know something, they lost someone… shit like that. It’s choppy.”

”Maybe something is off with the game? A glitch? Maybe the ‘someone’ is some of the overseers, technical failure…” Truth to be told, ever since Marze had stepped into the virtual reality simulation everything had felt… exhilaratingly real. Strangely real. The Klingon-Romulan could be counted throughly impressed.

“Mmmaybe… but can I admit something kind of fucked up?” They wrung their hands, glancing up at both of them. Wow, they might be the shortest on the team.

"I think you're right." William motioned towards Marze. "Devinn I think is the name of that announcer from earlier. Not sure why the NPCs would mention that." William then turned to Nenn, though he pondered if he already knew what Nenn was going to say. "Absolutely."

"You may." New character model for the game and they gave Nenn the shortest one. Sad.

3

“The game is certainly odd, the NCPs mentioned that it was a real-time battle simulation, and said that I could leave but they could not.” T’Shael added in. What reason did the game have for doing that? She knew that breaking the so called fourth wall could be humorous, but T’Shael could find no humor in a gritty war simulation. (edited)

”Maybe they aren’t all NPCs.” Oh how close was Marze to the answer? “Maybe some are overseers, so we don’t fuck absolutely everything up?” Close, but still in the wrong direction? It was, indeed, very weird, but between the adrenaline of a real - semi real - fight, Marze’s brain couldn’t pick up on the exact flags being subtly waved.

"I was wondering that too, though I guess if they were 'overseers' or 'players', they'd be the same height as us, right?" William responded. He made a subtle motion towards the NPCs. "They're all shorter than us." "Maybe they adapted the dialogue so that it could break the fourth wall? That'd be kind of cool, if true." (edited)

“I was military. Uh… this shit is pretty accurate. Worryingly so.” They hummed, “I’m just gonna give you guys that.”

William truly understood Nenn's words in that moment. He looked back towards the bodies - so there really was something to his feelings here. After checking each of the bodies, he chalked up his feeling of wrongness to having never been involved in ground combat before. But hearing the words coming from Nenn - someone who had been in the military before - was now justifying this feeling as having more merit than he thought. "I... understand." Was all William could muster up to say. His thoughts were jumbled - he still believed that the battle sim being just that, a "simulator". Maybe it was nothing. But even still, there was something about the gore - about the corpses of those nearby - which was just so... unsettling to him. (edited)

After a while, the NPCs returned, no longer talking amongst each other. "We have two choices," the main person who'd been talking to them said. "Based on the amount of guards we've killed so far, there can't be many left. Any that are left will be hard to find, and risk our chance of capture by enemy vessels. We can risk it, or we can go back to the ship, get you some repairs, and regroup for later."

He sighed. "It sounds like the logical thing to do is to regroup, then. What does everyone think? Votes for leaving, put your hand up." He put his hand up. He would never get to see how Gorn did their laundry now.

"Might as well regroup." William replied, clearing his mind of his thoughts as the NPCs approached. He then raised his hand. "We've rescued the prisoners, so we've accomplished our mission. No need for unnecessary risks, right?" (edited)

“Okay. Regrouping it is.” They nodded, a creeping suspicion barley weaving its way into their voice, much to their dismay, “Got all the coins, kicked all the turtles…”

The NPC turned to William, but didn't end up saying anything, as if thinking better of it. Instead, within a few seconds, they were all being transported back up to the transport ship, first the players, then the NPCs. Immediately, the ship was crawling with more NPCs, engineers and repairmen who came to fix up any damage the suits had sustained. The NPCs got lost in the shuffle, especially once they took their helmets off and started blending into the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

”Guess now the fun part is mostly over and we just hope our teams on the ships and comms know what they are doing.” The woman lowered her riffle and assumed a more relaxed posture. She looked around and wondered if there were other roles they could play, now that they were back here. This simulation was so realistic… maybe there were npcs that needed help?

"Might not be a bad idea." William responded. "Maybe we should let the others know what we encountered down there?"

“Yea.. sounds like a plan. At least I’m not limping anymore!” She laughed quietly.

"Well guys, that was fun, real fun. How did you guys feel on that?" Sak smiled, it looked like he had just experienced his first game.

Nenn shuddered, shaking everything off, before nodding. “Let’s tell ‘em. Maybe that Devinn guy will wanna know.”

There was a scuffle happening elsewhere, a commotion that was mostly suppressed for everyone else, but for Nenn, whose audio had yet to be fixed, it was clear as day. There were layered voices shouting at one another, arguing about "strangers" and "sacrifice" and "tactics", and while the specifics were unclear and an active effort was being made to keep the noise from reaching the team, there was a noticeable tension that started to permeate the room.

3

They pursed their lips, focusing their hearing on that specific exchange. “…hey, folks.” They muttered, as if live streaming this oh-so-quietly, “They’re arguing. I heard “sacrifice”. Freaky shit.”

William turned his head towards Nenn, a puzzled look on his face. " 'Sacrifice'? Oh, right." William leaned in a little more, trying to reduce his talking to a whisper. "You're still hearing things that we can't hear from the NPCs?" (edited)

“Uh huh. There’s a bunch of them, all yelling over each other about strangers and tactics.” They tried not to show what they were talking about, “Just yapping away… I don’t think they know I can hear them.”

"But what would they be sacrificing? It seems to me that we've already won, more or less." Although he did wonder what happened to the prisoners... Were they really transported?

T’Shael pursed her lips, there was something here that was wrong, but she really couldn’t put her finger on it. “Is there some sort of twist in the game?” She asked, so close yet so far. “Suppose your audio was supposed to be messed up and we are supposed to find out what is actually going on. Like a game within a game.” She was just guessing, pulling ideas out of thin air. (edited)

"I was thinking the exact same thing." William responded. "Maybe they're planning something with the prisoners that we have to find out? I was wondering if we'd be able to check on them." (edited)

“That’d be a fucked up twist.” They spat, looking to T’Shael, “…efficient, but mean.” (edited)

T’Shael gestured to the bodies of dead prisoners splayed out around them. “It is a fucked up game.” She said fucked up very casually, just repeating what Nenn said as if it were any other descriptor.

1

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out if it's an addition to the game or not." William looked in the general direction of where the scuffle was taking place, although he was unable to hear the audio. "Or, two, I guess. Either listen in and try to hear what they're saying, or we confront them about it." He shrugged. "Or there's a secret third option."

1

"If the comms are being suppressed to the rest of us, I doubt it's something to do with the game, because their helmet isn't working properly," Terahl argued. "There has to be something else to it, something we're not picking up on yet." He was a little jealous Nenn's helmet was broken to let them have secrets and his wasn't, but whatever.

3

“Alright. So… what, I’m hearing beyond the matrix?” They questioned, “They sound pretty pissed.”

"Pissed?" William responded. Aw, could the NPCs talking shit about the team? That wouldn't be very nice :(. "Would it help if we got closer? Maybe you could hear what they were talking about better?"

2

1

“We can give it a try, I guess. They’re all overlapping, so it’s hard to pick it apart.” They exhaled.

There was a lull in the arguing now, though the tension remained. Repair NPCs were starting to get to the players that had damage that didn't impede their movement, though. Nenn's audio privileges were close to being revoked.

3

“I’m good. Don’t touch me.” They blurted out, backing up from the NPCs, “I have a weird thing about NPCs touching me. It’s an… irrational fear. From The War.” Fucking genius move, Nennagan.

4

The NPCs looked at Nenn strangely, inasmuch as a masked figure can look at someone strangely. "Failure to comply with post-mission protocol will lead to a soft boot," one indistinguishable voice called out from somewhere in the room.

“Hey, noooo, let’s be reasonable...” They cringed, cursing themself, “What does the soft boot entail?”

"Hey, come on, pal." William said towards the NPCs, recognizing what Nenn was trying to do. He approached Nenn and whatever NPCs were nearby. "If someone doesn't want to get touched up, that's their decision. Just means they'll be at a disadvantage for later battles, right?" How'd the saying go, "the customer's always right?". Maybe if he could get that across to the NPC in question...

1

The NPCs approached Nenn again to patch up their avatar, not heeding a single word they or William were actually saying.

"Hey, look." William said, trying to put a hand - and perhaps his body - in-between the NPCs and Nenn, trying put to keep the two separated. "I understand what you all are trying to do, but wartime trauma is serious. I'm sure you... know it from all of this." He said, referring to the general situation of having to deal with the Gorn in a wartime environment. Was William trying to reason with the NPCs? Maybe this was part of the simulation? Whatever the case, it was worth a shot, right? (edited)

Both William and Nenn were kicked out of their avatars for now, their screens going black with a ten minute timer appearing.

5

“Fuck! Fuck you! Fuck you!” They yelled, sliding off their headset with a grunt, “Shit! Just when it was getting to a point…”

”The hell??? Did they have to get kicked?” Yeah, she didn’t like this NPCs. What was the point of playing a game that could decide you needed a time-out? What kind of game was programmed to make that decision? What was the point of this…

"Holy- What the hell? They did nothing wrong! Why kick them out?"

"The dr- avatars need to be repaired. They'll be let back in once the repairs have been finished, and they can no longer interfere with them." It was unclear which one of the NPCs currently working on Nenn's avatar was explaining, but it was one of them.

5

”Pfff, who programmed this?” She rolled her eyes inside her VR helmet, though it wouldn’t show in the game, and mumbled to the others. “Too much immersion can take the fun out of it, apparently. Why add a ‘fix’ feature for the avatar that takes actual real time for the player…” (edited)

...The drones? Was that what they were about to say? Hmmm. "Alright. Well, since repairs are being done and there isn't much else for us to do, I'm going to take this heavy headset off. I would advise others to do the same; it's always a good idea to take a break!" Because he wanted to talk to the others in private, if possible.

“Yeah, come take a break.” They muttered, crossing their arms. Getting timed out from a VR event? Classy! Fucking classy!

Headset off, he took a moment to fix his hair and then turned to Nenn. "How're you feeling, my friend?" He knew they'd been upset earlier, and now they were kicked out? Not a fun time.

“I’m doing alright. I should probs cool off, the staff don’t deserve to be yelled at.” They shrugged, “Although, I don’t know… weird vibes.”

"Certainly." He put the headset down somewhere far away from him. "Did you hear what they said just now?"

“Not really. They kinda cut themselves off.” They hummed, “Weird, though. All of this. I wanna hear your thoughts, just… quietly.”

”Right.” And quickly her helmet was off and she was back in the setup area. “This whole thing, not sure if I’m having fun anymore.” She looked over at Eshen and Nenn. “Good you’re alright at least.”

He wasn't sure if they meant quietly because they didn't want to be overheard, or because they'd been overwhelmed earlier. "Sure, sure. Come sit with me, both of you." He sat on... The floor, I guess, near a wall. "I thought I heard them almost say 'drone' for a second, but it could've been another word."

Marze took a seat on the ground next to them and made sure to lower her normally naturally projecting voice. ”If they had said it, could have been just part of the programming. Every game has a story, no? Maybe our avatars would have been made drones in there, and the NPCs would refer to us using it. But the strange thing…” She frowned. “Is that the NPC corrected it mid-word… why would they program a speech error? With an NPC conscious of it? There seems to be… a lot of program choices that don’t seem very likely to have been made by choice, but at the same time it doesn’t seem like the usual program glitches we would see. It’s… almost like people error, not machine error. Do you guys feel the same?”

"Yes, that's what I was thinking too," he said, his voice also lowered. "The way they corrected themself - well, I hear it a lot in my line of work: when someone's about to say something offensive, or reveal a secret, and they catch themselves just in time. And a drone is a robot someone else controls, isn't it? I'm not very tech-y, forgive me. I suppose, then, that could just be their name for the in-game avatar, but then it couldn't be, because they corrected themself into the word avatar afterwards. Nenn, did anything you heard seem to match up to this theory?" (edited)

Terahl hovered somewhere nearby, listening intently, though had nothing important to offer. "Piloting drones, huh." he mused aloud, however hushed, curiosity piqued.

“…fuck. You’re right. They were talking about us, and it sounded like they were talking about the game at the time, but…” It dawned on them, horrifically, that they hadn’t been playing a game, had they? “Shit. We need more information. Get the Devinn guy on the line?”

He shrugged. "We can just walk over to where they are. There's no particular reason we need to stay here."

William soon made his own way over to the group, stumbling around a bit as he haphazardly re-fit the VR equipment onto himself after re-entering the game. Upon hearing the group talk about exiting the game to talk to Devinn, however, he stopped in his tracks. "Ah, damn. And I just got all this stuff back on." He said, referring to his VR equipment half-jokingly. Truth be told, though, he agreed with that idea. (edited)

T’Shael’s face barely changed, but the continued oddities an especially the mention of drones made her think. An idea was creeping into her mind, one that should be impossible. “I agree, we should talk to him.” (edited)

"Okay, so the plan is to talk with Devinn. Thats a jolly good plan, but whay do we even say?"

"We ask for answers. Very politely," Terahl chimed in cheerfully. "I saw a few Intelligence officers off-duty, we could sprinkle in a threat of investigation."

William simply nodded in agreement with Terahl's suggestion. Although not entirely sure what was going on, something did seem wrong with the simulation. Devinn could have the answer to everyone's questions.

“Yeah, politely.” They chuckled, scratching the back of their neck, “I do think the threat of Intel officers would help, too…”

By the time Holly had figured out there was even a simulation going on in the first place, it seemed to already be running at full speed. Still, she found her way to the VR-setups, where she carefully approached the group that seemed to be discussing further steps. They all looked a little concerned to her, which wasn't exactly comforting. For a moment, she wondered if leaving and letting them figure this out on their own was still an option – but the fact that there was something going on at all had already captured her interest enough to make her want to stay. So she did, stepping up to stand with the group that was actively discussing next steps.

"What are we waiting for, then?" Terahl slapped his knees, popping back up with only a little bit of effort. "Let's go!"

2

So she had put on the gear just to take it all off again? Holly hid her disappointment as well as she could. She raised her eyebrows as Terahl stood. "After you."

"Off we go!" He hopped up with the vigor of someone ten years younger and made his way to the exit. Not that age meant much to him as a Vulcan. Well, half.

C’Tessa, who had also taken everything off, sprang up with all the energy of a cat on the hunt, and followed Eshen to the exit.

Sak sighed. "This is definitely ending badly." Sak took off his headset and equipment and followed C'Tessa.