The giant green Security Chief needed a break. He had not taken any time for himself for far too long, so he reserved a few hours in the holodeck for ‘individualized training’. Walking to the doors, he palmed the access and the doors slid open to the vacant room.
=/\= Computer, begin Mardusk program Kilo-Indigo-Charlie-Kilo-Indigo-Tango. =/\= he said and the black room with yellow grid lines vanished, replaced with an empty dive bar about the size of the ship’s lounge. Spray paint covered the walls in various styles and quality of graffiti; and there were stickers and posters adhered to almost every surface denoting band names, political statements, anti-authoritarian slogans, and a variety of vulgar and profane proverbs. Mardusk looked around at the stools, chairs, bottles of various sizes and shapes… some filled, some not. Walking to the end of the bar, he looked at the empty stage at the far end of the room. =/\= Populate stage. Earth band. Twentieth century. The Business. =/\= and a quartet of musicians appeared. The lead singer looked out and said “Oi, Gravel! Good on ya, lad.” and he looked around. “Where is everyone?” he asked in a strong Cockney accent. “They’re coming, Mick. Be here in a sec.” and he looked at the empty room. =/\= Computer. Populate room - era appropriate. =/\= and a multitude of human beings appeared and immediately began interacting.
The bartender, a large man, looked at Gravel and said “Been a while, G. Where ya been?” and set a large pitcher and a four shot glasses on the bar. “Just busy. Good to be back though.” Gravel said.
Dressed in a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and combat boots; Mardusk sported a t-shirt under the jacket that read “NOFX”. He lifted the pitcher. “Thanks, Mike.” and the bartender nodded. As the big green Orion lifted the pitcher, the sounds of the band tuning up began to fill the room.
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