Side Sim: Holodeck 1 - Upstairs/Downstairs

Posted May 12, 2022, 7:37 p.m. by Cadet P'Mala Dawes (Doctor) (Shaun Tee)

Posted by Cadet Johnathan Baptiste (Doctor) in Side Sim: Holodeck 1 - Upstairs/Downstairs

Posted by Cadet P’Mala Dawes (Doctor) in Side Sim: Holodeck 1 - Upstairs/Downstairs

Posted by Cadet Johnathan Baptiste (Doctor) in Side Sim: Holodeck 1 - Upstairs/Downstairs
Posted by… suppressed (11) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
It was 0400 hours, and P’Mala hoped most everyone would be asleep as she ducked out of her quarters in full costume, carrying a soft leather pouch. She took the turbolift to Deck 5 and entered her program into the computer.


When P’Mala stepped through the Holodeck doors, she knew exactly where she’d last left the program: She was in the stone kitchen larder of Blakemoor Manor, 1889, near Hereford, England. The estate was a large farm, hunting ground, and a small pleasure lodge, part of the holdings of Lord Arthur Graham and his wife Jane.

P’Mala wore a plain blue linen dress, a white apron and scullery maid’s hat. Though the 6-foot tall half-Vulcan certainly would have been out of place here, the inhabitants of this program knew her as a Welsh girl, Hanna. P’Mala had been a part of this household off and on for five years, though only one had passed in the simulation. Hanna was a routine part of its inhabitants’ lives.

Quickly, methodically, P’Mala entered the scullery room from the larder and began scouring the dishes in the sink, using the hot water boiling on the fire–one of the other girls’ jobs was to prepare this for her.

A thin grey-haired woman with a severe bun and silver pince-nez glasses entered the space: Mrs. Lloyd, the head cook and part-time lady’s maid to the mistress of the house, Lady Graham.

“Hanna, dove! Back from your folks so soon?” Mrs. Lloyd asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” P’Mala said, scrubbing goose grease from a large pot. “I just returned. How are my lord and her ladyship?”

“Right blue, still yet,” the older woman sighed, her face downcast. “They both aren’t eating. He should be in London, or comforting a grieving mother, but instead, he trots away to the lodge and hunts, hunts, hunts.”

Mrs. Lloyd straightened herself. “At least that’s what I would say,” she said. “If it were my place to do so.”

Mrs. Lloyd was a bit of a busy-body, but she meant well. In fact, P’Mala was often surprised by how kind this program was–by her research, most real big houses were ran much more strictly than the Graham’s.

Their young son, Edgar, had recently died from scarlet fever. P’Mala had originally been interested in the funeral customs of this era, but ended up appreciating the family and staff. She wanted to see them do well.

“Mrs. Lloyd,” P’Mala said, “I’ll get the tea on for us and we can get upstairs’ breakfast together. You go on and get check on the rest.”

The older woman left. P’mala finished her dishes and put a kettle on. Then, she thought she heard the holodeck doors whoosh open.

On the big iron stove, the kettle began to sing. P’Mala took it off the heat. She grabbed some tea and a measure of cheesecloth from a nook and began to steep the tea.

The other downstairs girls, Truly and Ms. Price, had already made oatmeal, and P’Mala took a bowl. Today, the family was supposed to host some guests for a small shooting on the grounds, and she’d need some strength to keep up in the kitchen as they prepared and served breakfast then immediately prepared a full luncheon to a bunch of foppish Londoners, the Graham’s “friends” who the Lady despised

Mrs. Lloyd returned with a sour look on her face. “They’re in a mood, already,” she said. She took a cup of tea.

Mrs. Lloyd mentioned that the only other guests, the Lady’s younger brother, Charlie, and his friend Hubert, were already awake and clamoring for bread.

P’Mala finished her oatmeal, pushed her chair back, and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Well, Mrs. Lloyd, let’s get started.”

Then, she thought she heard the holodeck doors again.
“Computer, pause program,” she said. “Is someone else here?”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes
Cadet Baptiste was dressed for a workout session in his Star Fleet T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes heading to the gymnasium prior to his having to report for duty. He spotted Cadet Dawes going down the corridor dressed in what appeared to be a blue linen dress with a white apron and scullery maids hat reminiscence of the Victorian era of Earth, if he recalled his history correctly. Now what is this most peculiar Vulcan up to? he thought. Well as they say, only one way to find out. with that thought he followed her to Holodeck 1. He equivocated for a minute before hitting the button and entering the archway to the Holodeck; he was shocked to find Cadet Dawes getting up from a table speaking with another thin, grey haired woman in pince-nez glasses. He heard Cadet Dawes state “Computer, pause program. Is someone there.” With a deep breath he said in French “Bonjour, la curiosité a tué le chat.” Then realizing she may not speak French stated rather sheepishly “Hello, my curiosity got the best of me, and as they say curiosity killed the cat.

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

Bonne journée, Johnathan,” P’Mala said, her college French a little rusty. “I’m afraid I turned off the gym program to spend a little time with my holonovel.”

Mrs. Lloyd was frozen in-program, her oatmeal spoon just inches from her open mouth, a pinkie pointed out like a wax figure.

“I hate to be in the kitchen when the poor old thing is stuck in this state. Would you care to follow me to the scullery to talk?” P’Mala said.

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes


Cadet Baptiste smiled and stated “Your French is extremely rusty. Sure you may lead the way to the scullery. I am just dying to find out why a Vulcan would be running an Earth Victorian era holonovel. It seems out of character from what I have observed of most Vulcans.”
-Cadert Johnathan Baptiste, Medical


P’Mala opened the plain-looking side door into the scullery where the dishes she’d washed earlier were drying over cloth. The room was still humid and the stone walls glinted in the lamplight.

“Come this way,” P’Mala motioned.

“This holonovel is called “Blakemoor Manor,” and I’ve been accessing it off and on since before Starfleet Medical,” she said. “The household has lost a child, recently. They’re… my friends.”

P’Mala thought for a second. “Would you like to join in? We can program you in as a fellow downstairs person–the fisheries manager or a hunting guide–or as one of the upstairs guests for today’s hunting luncheon? I can program you a role in a snap.”

P’Mala paused, unsure. “If you’d rather go to the gym, I understand too.”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes


Cadet Baptiste thought about it for a moment “Sure, why not. Perhaps playing a hunting guide or fisheries manager would be fun. I do have experience in both hunting and fishing.” This also will help me get a better understanding of you and why you are so atypical of the stoic Vulcans I have meet during my time at the Star Fleet Academy. “So what do you recommend I roleplay as?” he asked with a warm smile. “After all you said these were your friends?”

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical


-Chris Huskins

P’Mala brightened up. “So, our game warden is already “Jonathan,” without the H, so that would be an easy switch,” she said.

“You’d still be approximately the same age, and the folks here would know you as a newish hire. He’s only been at the Manor for a couple months.”

“Computer, arch, please,” P’Mala said. The entrance and console appeared. “Just tell me what you’d like and I’ll program it in. And then we can replicate some period-appropriate attire.”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes


Cadet Baptiste paused and thought for a moment “To be honest I am not fully up on the Victorian Era of Earth’s history. I will trust in your judgement as to what to wear, also I am unsure of the duties of a game warden in this era of time. While I have spent extensive time in the outdoors of British Columbia hunting, fishing, hiking and camping I have never ran afoul of the local game warden. With that said I am your guest and willing to assist with this roleplaying.” He smiled “Also what is the relationship and standing between my character, the old woman frozen mid bite, and you?”

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

OCC: Okay quick question, exactly how does one go about Snipping in the game?

P’Mala considered this question for a moment. “It would take a while to explain late Victorian English culture in its entirety, but as a new player, the holonovel will certainly lead you along. If you talk about your time in British Columbia, the game will acknowledge that as truthful to your character’s background. As for our relationship and Mrs. Lloyd, she’s… my commanding officer in the kitchen. You’re slightly more highly ranked and serve under the Lord of the Manor as the gamesman. Mrs. Lloyd would see you as fellow high-ranking help.”

P’Mala paused. “They know ‘Jonathan’ and will likely speak to you somewhat familiarly.”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes


“Very well then,” Cadet Baptiste stated, he walked over to the computer =^= Computer please record the following information for the holonovel, all based of my experiences as an outdoors enthusiast.=^= He then proceeded to give a quick rundown of his activities in British Columbia. After he was done with his quick rundown to the computer he then asked it =^= Please ensure it conforms to the holonovel and the correct time frame of the holonovel. Also please replicate the appropriate clothing for me. =^= With a smile he turned back to Cadet Dawes “Well then shall we resume the holonovel, of course once I change into the appropriate attire?”

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

“Of couse,” P’Mala said. “A huntsman in this era would have worn a hunting coat in the mayor’s colors–light blue, here–as well as riding breeches and a hat, of course. You should be able to replicate them and we’ll go from there.”

She hadn’t played this holonovel with anyone else before and was interested to see how the characters would react to this “Johnathan.” According to everything she knew, they would likely just accept him as a part of the staff.

“You can feel free to help yourself to the oatmeal as well, like poor Mrs. Lloyd,” she added. “Oh, and they will call me Hanna. Anything else you’d like to know?”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

“Alright then.” Cadet Baptiste said =^= Computer please replicate me the appropriate clothing for me of a Victorian era game warden, ensure the hunting coat is in light blue. =^= Upon the computer replicating the appropriate clothing, Cadet Baptiste turned and with a smile “Well I need to change my clothing if we are going to proceed. Mind giving me a moments privacy?” This will be well worth it. I get to observe a Vulcan actually roleplaying, who would ever believe this. thought Cadet Baptiste

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste

“Absolutely, ” P’Mala affirmed. “I’ll go back into the kitchen, where I was when I paused the program, and I’ll restart my conversation with Mrs. Lloyd. You can come in whenever you’re ready. Nobody should interrupt you in here, and it’ll seem like you came in through the door to the courtyard.”

P’Mala picked up her skirt and re-entered the kitchen, where Mrs. Lloyd still sat frozen, the spoon of oatmeal still inches from her mouth.

=V=”Computer, resume program,”=V= P’Pala said.

As if not a second had passed, Mrs. Lloyd finished her spoon of oatmeal. “And as I was saying, Hanna, dear, we must get bread for them city folk. I think we have some brioche, still. That, some sausages, preserves, ham, some eggs,” she trailed off. “And tea, of course.”

“Yes, ma’am,” P’Mala said.

As the older woman finished her breakfast, P’Mala began cooking the sausage and sliced ham in two different skillets with some butter and onions and began cracking fresh eggs into a bowl.

I hope Jonathan is getting on alright, she thought.

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

Cadet Baptiste smiled and nodded his acknowledgement to Cadet Dawes “Okay, Hanna” he said in a joking manner. He then proceeded to put on the clothing replicated for him. Once he completed his clothing swap, he stepped into the kitchen, “Well it smells delicious in here” he said. “A pleasant morning to you Mrs. Lloyd, Miss Hanna. Thought I would nip a spot of breakfast and tea before heading to the kennels and checking on the Lords hounds, good chance his Lordship will want to take them out for a quick hunt. What with his guest and all here.” said Cadet Baptiste with a smile. Well that is definitely very unVulcan like he noted as he seen Cadet Dawes cooking both sausage and ham. I thought Vulcans were strict vegetarians.

Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

Mrs. Lloyd perked up, straightening her back, as she turned toward Johnathan with a wide smile.

“Oh, it’s the man of the hour, our gamesman, Hanna! Get a bowl of oatmeal for the man, and a couple of those sausages!” she crowed, standing up to fuss over Johnathan. “How are you feeling, luv? Excited for the hunt?”

P’Mala smirked to herself. Mrs. Lloyd considered herself quite the charmer, even at 64.

“Yes, ma’am.” P’Mala began assembling a small breakfast tray.

Mrs. Lloyd put her hands on her hips. “Come, sit, sit, and tell us all about your plans! What are we hunting today? Will you be bringing us some meat to cook for tonight’s dinner?”

P’Mala set the breakfast down at the table. Poor man, she thought. It was very early for such chatter, in her opinion, but Mrs. Lloyd was always a ball of energy in the morning.

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

Taken aback slightly by the over enthusiastic Mrs. Lloyd, Cadet Baptiste quickly responded “I am just fine Mrs. Llyod. Just hungry and have some work to attend to before the hunt. I was hoping to go out for that rogue boar today, but his Lordship is set on taking his ‘friends’ on a shoot. I dare not take a bunch of city folk on such a potentially dangerous hunt, therefore I believe we will go for the standard pheasant hunt. If we are lucky, and none of his Lordship’s friends do not shot themselves we may garner some pheasant. Hopefully the hunt early enough to allow me to stalk out a fine stag.” With that he sat down, and began to eat his breakfast of oatmeal and sausage. Well so far so good he thought to himself.

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

“Ooh, that boar,” Mrs. Lloyd shook her head ruefully. “Trampled my last garden to bits!”

P’Mala let Mrs. Lloyd laugh and simper and fuss around the kitchen, tickled to have an audience. Before long, she was asking about the hounds and helping P’Mala with the eggs.

P’Mala finished cooking the meat and placed the plates on a serving platter. She rang the bell on the wall near the stove and one of the upstairs girls came to take the tray.

“You’d better make an appearance, Mrs. Lloyd,” P’mala said.

“You’re right as a tick,” said the older woman. “Now, Johnathan, good luck on the hunt!”

After the woman left, P’Mala sat down next to Johnathan. “Sorry for that,” she said. “I haven’t seen the woman that excitable in ages. How’s the Downstairs breakfast?”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

“Well, I must say oatmeal was okay. It could have used some brown sugar, cinnamon and a bit of cream. I did enjoy the sausage though. Interesting holo program.” replied Cadet Baptiste.

“You’re not wrong there,” P’Mala said. “But Downstairs is a little stingy with the spice. I’m not sure how historically accurate it is, but…” She trailed off.

“Question, how do you get around not eating meat in this program? If I recall meat is a huge part of the diet in the Victorian era, and I do not recall such a thing as a vegetarian in that era.” he asked with sincere curiosity.

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You know, my father has never stepped one foot off Vulcan and my mother occasionally ate meat growing up. When I’d ask why Vulcans didn’t eat meat like she did, she’d say it was because none of their native animal tasted any good. I personally don’t eat meat if I can help it–but that feels culturally appropriate to me.”

P’Mala thought about it for a second. “And technically, it’s holographic, right? Not meat meat, right?”

This unnerved her somewhat.

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

Cadet Baptiste sat back and thought about Dawes’s question. “That is a very interesting question.” he said “I mean I am no expert on holodeck technology, but wouldn’t the programing replicate actual food for the live players? I mean it seems it would not be to difficult for the computer system to the actually replicate food on the holodeck.” He asked with all seriousness.

P’Mala turned a half shade greener. Her stomach churned just a little bit at the thought.

“You… have a point, Johnathan.”

“But, like I said I am not a holodeck expert and I am a far cry from being a gearhead.” He sat back allowing her to absorb what he said.

“I think I’m going to have to think about that,” she said. “You make a strong argument, and I hadn’t thought about it in that way before.”

“Wait a minute, you say your father never left Vulcan, and your mother eats meat? Are you of mixed heritage?” he asked. Then realizing what he just said “I apologize for my outburst, I did not mean to be insulting or to insult you. Please forgive me.”

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

“It’s a common question!” P’Mala said. She knew that she had a better capacity for expressing herself than some of her fellow Vulcan-blooded individuals, but most of that was being raised by Vuncan hippies.

“My mother is from Kentucky–born to two humans from the holler. She ended up studying religion and married her professor–my father,” she admitted.

“Johnathan, what is your family like,” she asked.

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

“Well, my parents are still married, High School sweethearts. My mother is a veterinarian and my father is a pastry chef and owns a pastry shop; Creme De La Crumb. I have a kid sister, Chloe, who is seventeen and wants to become a Star Fleet Marine Pilot. This of course is driving my mother crazy. Both my parents are fierce French Canadian and insist we speak only French when we are together as a family. Of course this causes me all kinds of trouble when I return from leave, takes me several weeks to get my thoughts to form in Federation Standard and to remember not to speak in French. Well that is it in a nut shell, as they say.”

-Cadet Johnathan Baptiste, medical

“I do understand being torn between two languages,” P’Mala admitted. “Though I have spent over a decade surrounded by English, sometimes I too miss the sounds of home. My French is not great, either. I can probably order a meal, but…” She trailed off.

As if on cue, Mrs. Lloyd re-entered the room with the empty tray under her arms.

“Hungry as a pack of dogs,” she scoffed. “I had to chastise the brutes to wait for the Lady before they ate everything.”

She turned to Johnathan. “You’d better run them ragged on this hunt of yours so they’ll be too tired to eat through my larder before dinner.”

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes

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