From: Masako GotoDate: Sun, 6 Apr 1997 17:50:18 -0500 (EST) Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Bridge Stations
SD 90406.2212 ------ Bridge ------ MD 4.0800 "I thought I'd find you here," said Fielding, trotting over to his superior officer. He was slightly out of breath, having run from his office. "Just thought I'd keep you company." "You can't expect me to get you breakfast in the middle of shifts every day, Mr. Fielding," said Anne with a small smile. She was running some diagnostics on the science stations and didn't bother looking up. "No, that's not why I'm here at all," said Fielding easily. "I just thought, you know, I'd check things out on the Bridge." "Wise precaution, Lieutenant." Anne pressed typed some more commands. "Everything's checking out so far... how are the preparations for the review exams coming along?" "Oh, quite nicely, quite nicely." Fielding saw that Anne was in no mood to be distracted; he nodded a hello to the Ensign at flight control and resumed his station at the second science console. Anne finished up the diagnostics. She was about to start on yet another series when a message appeared on the screen.it said. Anne looked suspiciously at Fielding. "Lieutenant (jg) Derek Fielding, if you think this is funny..." Fielding looked back at her with an expression he hoped was a good attempt at hurt innocence. "I didn't have anything to do with the transmission of that message," he complained. "See? I was right here. Look on my console if you don't believe me." He held out his hands, waiting for Anne to inspect his computer display. "All right, you're off the hook," muttered Anne. She returned to her console, ready to delete the message. "You mind-reading..." The next few seconds were muttered under her breath and quite unprintable in any case. "I am just fine, you stupid machine," typed in Anne, finally regaining a semblance of reality. She couldn't believe she was having a conversation with a computer, but... she loooked over at Fielding, but he was already working on his own console. Very well. "What makes you think there's any kind of emotional emergency?" "I'm being interrogated by a blasted computer, if you can call that an emotional problem," typed Anne. "I also suffer from delusions, hallucinations, incapacitating depression, multiple personalities, obsessive fixations, and also play a mean game of golf if I'm in the right frame of mind." "Oh, *no*!" Anne panicked, slumping down on the floor. Fielding stood stock still at his console, not daring to look up from his station. He had a vague idea what had happened; it had been Karen's idea to include the referral message subroutine, and he was fairly certain that Anne had managed to trigger it somehow. It was rather unfortunate that Commander Brennan decided to make an appearance on the bridge at that moment. Respectfully submitted, Masako Goto Lt. Anne Murray, Ph.D. CSciO USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813 mgoto@indiana.edu < > Well... Murray-types (including me) don't get over their problems (much less acknowledge them) until they hit bottom, so I'm pushing her toward that edge. Her problems? Well, the words "incompetent staff" and "golf" spring to mind... Fabian: Please feel free to say hi to Fielding if you like; Anne's not very sociable, but her aCSciO definitely is. James: Whether or not that message actually got sent is completely up to you. BTW, this program can't feel your pain... but hey, you don't need a holograph projector to run it, either. Takako: Sorry if you weren't planning on making another appearance on the bridge for a while yet... but I figured this might be a better solution to the interaction problem than the -- uh -- chalk. :) However, if you have a real problem with it, please let me know, and we can work it out somehow. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thought for the day: Which is more difficult, to lose someone you love to death or to lose him/her to life's circumstances? -------------------------------------------------------------------------
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