Senseless and Scentless
Posted on Fri Apr 21st, 2023 @ 1:29pm by Lieutenant Rufus Marocain
Mission:
Shakedown Shake-Up
Location: USS Nelson
580 words - 1.2 OF Standard Post Measure
The shuttle arced slowly around the Nelson, taking its time about getting to the bay. Given a choice between transporter and shuttle, especially one he got to fly, Rufus had immediately opted for flying. After a leisurely sweep to take in the new ship - shiny, but not, in his opinion, as impressive as Vesta - the helmshound guided the shuttle into the bay, bringing it down in a perfect landing.
As he stepped out, he was met by a Antican in a perfectly pressed uniform. Or what looked like an Antican. The Kainan's nose wrinkled at the complete lack of scent. It wasn't that he wasn't used to holograms - he'd spent plenty of time on holodecks for both training and leisure, and while the lack of decent olfactory simulation was annoying, he went in expecting all the characters to basically read like cardboard cut-outs, so he could deal with it. Seeing one outside a holodeck and in a Starfleet uniform though... That just felt ...wrong.
"Welcome to the Nelson, Lieutenant. Please report on board," it said in a tone as devoid of expression as its face. Not even a ear twitch.
Rufus tried to keep his fur from ruffling. Add lack of body language and vocal inflection to the Wrongness factor. With a curt nod, he stepped over to the terminal. "Computer, Lieutenant JG Rufus Marocain, authorization code Delta-One-Gamma-Kappa-Nine."
There was short whir and chirp, followed by "Authorization code accepted. Lieutenant Junior Grade Rufus Marocain is now Chief Helm Officer, USS Nelson. Access privileges set: Level Six, Priority Three."
The holo-Antican's head tilted to one side, something like a humanoid smile forming on its face. "Welcome aboard, sir."
Yeaahhh... no body language had been better than completely off. Rufus just stared, frozen by the dissonance. It's was just a badly programmed hologram. Ignore the creepy clown vibes....
"I can show you to your quarters," it said beginning to move toward the exit. "This one is Hologram Three-Five-Two-Alpha. You may address me as 'Alpha' if you prefer."
"I do not." The caninoid straightened, fur bristling. It would be a cold day on Vulcan's Forge before he'd call that thing 'Alpha'. "And I can find my quarters on my own, thankyouverymuch" he added, striding ahead and hoping it wouldn't follow.
Having easily found his quarters - easy enough, just ask the computer (which had more personality than the creepy hologram - he dumped his satchel on the floor, frowning at the layout. Standard humanoid layout with narrow uncomfortable bed. Tossing aside the uniform laid out on it (Pleathor jacket? Had no one even considered any species with fur?) he blew out a breath. "Computer, reconfigure bed to Kainan basic, extra long."
"Cannot comply. Altering the configuration of residential settings requires Level Seven clearance."
Ears flipped back in Kainan WTF. "These are my quarters. I'm not asking to change everyone's. Just this one."
There was whir and pause. "Cannot comply. Altering the configuration of residential settings requires Level Seven clearance."
"That makes no sense!" he barked. "Starfleet regulations require that quarters -"
"Maintenance crew may be requested to address issues for individual quarters."
Rufus glared at the ceiling. He could swear the computer had sounded snippy (which was still better than having to deal with creepy scentless holo maintenance staff).
"Nevermind. I'll find a Level Seven." After all, someone real should be on the bridge soon.
