far_beyond | // EVENT: STATION-WARMING PARTY

It's like a long, long blink, and then, pop - the uncomfortable feeling of squeezing the very last stubborn little bit of toothpaste out of the tube, but you're the toothpaste.

And then you're sitting in a chair in a strange bar, with several people you've never seen before in your life. The light is low, the sort of comfortable level reserved for comradely conversations around some nachos and beers. The architecture of the bar itself looks industrial - someone might be forgiven for thinking it's located in a reclaimed warehouse or something of the like.

It's not. (Not unless you want to call a repurposed mining space station a warehouse.)

There's food on the tables, and drinks - much of it looks like staple bar food (is that deep-fried mac and cheese???), but some of it is a little unfamiliar (is that a bowl of worms? are they moving???????????).

After you have a moment to look around in sheer bewilderment, a man in what seems to be a uniform stands on the dais in front of a stained-glass mural and raises a glass. "A toast. To the new crew of Deep Space Nine. By which I mean, of course, all of you!" He chuckles. "You hardly look like a crew, though. Why, you're all out of uniform!" He snaps, and you suddenly find yourself wearing a uniform like his. "Where are my manners. You don't even have your marching orders." A handheld tablet appears on the table in front of you, between a glass of something blue and what's definitely a basket of loaded potato skins. And it's definitely yours, because it has your name on it. "There! Now you all have your PADDs. Read them at your leisure."

He takes a sip of what's in his glass and makes a face. "Ugh! Kanar. Terrible stuff, don't know how the Cardassians drink it." There's a small flash of light, and it's replaced with something bright teal. "Much better. Now, the Romulans, they know how to make a spirit."

Then he sits down in the chair up on the dais and leans back so it's only on two legs, looking down his nose at everyone. "Now. I imagine that all of you have some questions for me. So to avoid any blah-blah boring repetition, I am Q, and this is Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine - your home for the foreseeable future. Don't ask me any boring questions like 'ohhh why am I here ohhh', you can find most of what you need to know on your PADD. You're here because the station needed a crew and I thought you'd be a good fit."¹ Q twirls his wrist and a pocketwatch appears in his hand. "Yes, I can dilly-dally long enough to answer some questions. At my discretion." He snaps it shut, an oddly final sound.

Once Q is done holding court, he grins. "Oh, you're going to have such fun, mes amis," he says, and vanishes in a flash of light, leaving everyone to mix and mingle. The bar is unattended if anyone is interested in trying some amateur mixology, and Q has thoughtfully taped up instructions on how to use the replicators.

THIS IS NOT MY SLEEP NUMBER
When the party is starting to wind down, information for your quarters flashes on your PADD - including the location in the Habitat Ring and how to get there. They're spartan and lacking creature comforts, but your original clothes are there, neatly folded on the bed, along with anything else you may have had with you upon arrival. The PADD periodically chimes with information that you need to know, like how to work the sonic shower, or that the station runs on the 26-hour Bajoran day. It's almost like the PADD knows what's going on...? Eh, it's about as creepily invasive as Alexa, anyway. And speaking of Alexa, the PADD also provides a crash course in how to interact with the station's computer! Which is essentially plain-language audio querying. Ask ~~Ms. Majel Barret Roddenberry~~ the computer anything you like and she will help you.

A message appears from Q later on everyone's PADDs, unable to be replied to:

It'll take about a week before they finally figure out how to get transmissions through the chroniton field.

You've got that much time to get a handle on things.

:)

-Q

¹ This is a lie. He picked you just for shits and giggles.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The problem Brigid has, is that she's worried that Q does know what he's doing. It's just that she wonders what he wants with them. She can smell all sorts of things around the area, and most of it is anger, fear, questions. (Yes, having questions has a smell, depending on the type of questions.)

She looks at the PADD and picks it up, balancing the Chronicle on her hip. Calling up the map on it, she frowns. "It has our quarters marked on it." She really hopes her clothing is there. She flips it around so Valdis can see. Brigid's quarters are marked with a dot.

Brigid shakes her head. "Medical, then we'll find other things." She says, the large book braced against her side.

Valdis eyes the book Brigid is carrying, but moves her gaze to the map the woman is now showing her, she purses her lips for a moment, then taps a few buttons on her own pad to see where her quarters are. Not too far from the other woman's, lucky she supposes. They can watch each other's backs.

"Medical is over here," she zooms away from their rooms and down the hall, quite a ways to the medical facility. "Guess We'd better start walking, this place is quite large."

It was almost like a city in space, but...less comfortable. She glances at the large book again, thinking if she should ask or if she needed to be a bit less...curious, if that was even the right word. She may be far from her own home, but she needs to remain on guard. Just because she doesn't sense any enemies, doesn't mean they aren't here, or won't show up. Still...

"What's the book?"

Brigid looks at the map. She sighs. Well, she'd hoped not to be too confined. Looks like she gets her wish.

She follows the other woman out of the cantina or bar or whatever it was, carrying her Chronicle. "Genealogy records." She says. It's... partially the truth. It won't ping as untrue. "I am a History Keeper for my clan." Another truth, sort of. It's a Pack, not a clan. Same difference.

"Medical is that way?" She asks.

Genealogy records for a clan. No lie, yet perhaps not the whole story, but really, who dumps their whole story on a stranger. Valdis certainly isn't one to do so. Her secrets have secrets, and she doesn't even know her whole story. Valdis bites back a sigh, looking down at her padd.

"Yeah, it's down that stretch for...awhile."

She turns and heads that direction.

Brigid follows her, easily carrying the large book. "Do we only have these machines for food?" She asks, wondering just how they considered that food. It doesn't smell off so much as different. She's not sure that she likes it.

She doesn't mention the fact that this Q guy smells like a bigger predator and it puts her hackles up.

Valdis touches a few buttons on the Padd, "It appears that that is where the food comes from, but there's got to be real food available somehow."

Maybe imported? Surely not everyone has these fancy machines.

She's not required to eat, or to sleep, but staving off the effects of the Void is easier when she's not relying on it for energy and rest.

"This place seems almost too...ideal in some way."

But she couldn't figure out why.

"It's too clean." Oh, she can smell things, but mostly what she smells is the recycled air that they can breathe, and the other people that have arrived. What freaked her out was she couldn't smell the previous inhabitants.

"Everything is too clean." She murmurs, walking next to Valdis. "There's no people detritus, no proof that there was any life here before us." She points out.

Valdis breathed in deeply, letting the scents of the station glide over her tongue and across her mind. Brigid was right, this place seemed, not just empty, but devoid of life. It smelled metallic and empty. Yes, there were others here now, but the place was too quiet.

"Maybe we just haven't been to the right places yet. That bar was pretty well stocked."

Perhaps a false reassurance, but there was evidence that others had been here, a slight sense here, a faint scent there. It was empty and clean now, but...there was essence here.

Brigid purses her lips together. Yes, the bar was well-stocked. Because, obviously, that was what they needed. More alcohol. She snorts. Obviously, people have their priorities a bit backward.

She sighs and keeps following along. There's something odd about this place - and not just it being empty. No, there's something unusual about the way it's being used. It doesn't seem right.

She itches to get into research mode, but there are other things to worry about right now.

When they reach Medical, she steps inside and wrinkles her nose. Antisceptic always smells so strong. It's why Dr. Thompson takes a shower before visiting a Wolf. "I'm not very familiar with medical equipment, but this is not what I imagined."

The scent of medical was unlike any hospital she has been in. It smells almost more sterile, empty, and hollow. A place of machines and not people. Strange, and stranger still were the lack of recognizable medical equipment.

Valdis nods in agreement, "No, this is...perhaps more advanced than what I have ever seen. Which is not ideal if one of us gets injured."

She herself had nothing to worry about, the healing abilities of a hellhound were far beyond anything even the Angels possessed.

Werewolf healing, save with 'bane, will not be a problem here. But... there are many squishy humans on this space station or whatever it is. Unfortunately, she's not a doctor. While she can help, someone with knowledge needs to direct her.

"I do not know how our compatriots will do." She says, glancing at the woman. "I hope no one gets seriously hurt..." For many reasons.

"It would have been nice if Q had left us an FAQ on running this station, but I suppose we'll have to figure everything out ourselves."

She examines one of the screens, running her fingers across one of the tables. Everything here was so strange, so foreign, and she'd been a millions places over thousands of years. Would she eventually live long enough to see this in her world?

"Somehow, I doubt giving us instructions crossed his mind." She's seen men like Q. They have power and they flaunt it.

Brigid is tired of this. She was just getting settled into her pack, she was making a place for herself and then this happens. So much for having a life.

"Maybe the computer can help? I hate to rely on it in an emergency, but there have to be manuals or something right?"

Q seemed like a man who enjoyed watching others struggle. She can't even call him a scientist, because this isn't for anything other than his enjoyment.

"I'm sure it can, perhaps there is time for that later."

She pokes a button on her pad, bringing the map back up. Engineering. Quarks. Chapel...So many different locations.

"There's a chapel."

Much as she hates religion, it can tell you a lot about a place and the culture around you.

// EVENT: STATION-WARMING PARTY

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