STF

Holodeck: Rosie's Bar on USS Ogawa

Posted June 26, 2018, 8:31 a.m. by Lieutenant Rico Vanhall (Chief of Security) (David Shotton)

Posted 27 April 2018 - 2:33am by Lieutenant Rico Vanhall (Chief of Security) (David Shotton)

The doors to the holo-deck slid open to reveal the inside of a bar that Rico had not visited in a long time, for many reasons. The sight and smell of the place brought back memories that he had put aside for a long time, pushed to the deepest parts of his mind in an effort to avoid, and forget. For what seemed like an eternity to him he simply stood and looked inside, on the verge of turning and returning to his quarters and the various bottles of spirits that he had in his cabinet for just such an occasion. The Chief of Security wasn’t in the habit of drinking to avoid memories or problems, but tonight might well be different.

The bar was nothing special to look at, it could have passed for any small bar anywhere on Earth, or indeed a multitude of planets in the Federation. On the far wall was the long bar with the bottles behind it, assorted mismatched tables were arranged on the floor to allow the patrons to sit and drink or play cards or other games of chance. Large comfortable couches gave the patrons a more quieter and secluded place to drink, talk or do their business on the right hand wall and to his left the small stage where whatever entertainment of the night the bar might arrange performed, whether it be music or stand up comedy, it didn’t much matter. Nobody at this bar generally took any notice of what was happening on the stage anyway unless one very specific person decided to take it for a song or two.

Rico’s eyes rested on the stool and guitar that stood alone on the small stage, and that twinged a small amount of curiosity in him and wonder, that had never before been there at the start of this program. Or had it? It had been so long since he had run this program that he couldn’t remember, and didn’t care to, really. Stepping inside the door closed behind him, and faded away to reveal a wall that held various photographs, black and white stills of what seemed to be random people but one woman seemed to reoccur in many of them, but even in the black and white pictures one could tell she was stunningly beautiful with dark raven hair falling past her shoulders, and large dark eyes that drank in a mans soul. Rico didn’t turn and look at the photographs, he knew what they showed, even in his efforts to forget but tonight he had needed to come here as if drawn by a memory that wouldn’t go away. It was almost calling to him.

Having thrown on a comfortable but loose v neck shirt he seemed to fit right into the crowd, only the obvious muscle of his shoulders and body making him stand out from the similarly dressed figures in the crowd, which reeked of casual disinterest as if they all had their own problems and issues and this was the one place they could come that nobody cared to make a fuss over them. At this bar, in the past, problems had seemed to disappear to be replaced be a form of melancholy and acceptance of the hand dealt to you. It had been oddly comforting, and acceptance of fate perhaps. Rico moved slowly to the stage and took the single step that brought him up to the platform, then picked up the guitar and recognised it immediately, it was his own guitar from his quarters that had waited for him here. Not caring to wonder at how that could be, he sat on the stool and tested the strings, the few people at the tables looking up at him, some continuing to watch, others going back to ignoring him. He plucked at the strings absently and found a song come into his mind, it was old, but he knew it like he knew many of the old Earth songs. Music had been his escape in the weeks after the event that had landed him in hospital and nearly claimed his life, and had claimed other things more dear to him in the fallout.

Gently Rico began picking a string, a single tone repeated that caught the time and pace of the piece, slow, steady and fitting the general mood of the bar. Slowly he added other notes, maintaining the gentle pace, knowing that the guitar fitted the song perfectly.

“Say something I’m giving up on you” he had a surprising voice for his more athletic appearance. It was low, but smooth and strong, holding the right notes and tone as the song worked itself out, keeping it much slower than normal.
“I’ll be the one if you want me to” he closed his eyes as he sang, letting the words come out and his fingers play across the guitar.
“And anywhere I would have followed you” a pause now before his voice became stronger on the next line.
“Say something I’m giving up on you”

That was when he felt the hand touch his shoulder, fingers lightly moving across them, across the back of his neck, a palm running over the tense muscle. Light and soft, delicate yet firm. Rico opened his eyes but his vision remained on the tables and patrons in front of him. He knew that touch, instantly and without any doubt in his mind. The room of people now all watching the stage simply confirmed who had joined him. The fingers and palm moved from right to left, then left his shoulder and Rico found himself wanting that touch, but not knowing if it was memory or comfort he sought.

“And I, I’m feeling so small, It was over my head, I know nothing at all.” As he sang the line a female voice joined his. Like the touch it was, soft, gentle and delicate but had a strength to it that carried it far beyond a simple accompaniment. The voice worked with his perfectly like it was made for him, and fell in beside his in a harmony that not once fought to either flow over or be swallowed by his, but joined together in a melody that would have brought a tear to the eye of those in the crowd, had they had any shred of emotion to them. Indeed the voice itself seemed to carry so much emotion and feeling that it was impossible for it to be created by a computer program, but Rico knew that somehow, it was only that.

“And I, will stumble and fall. I’m still learning to love, just starting to crawl.” The figure of the singer now moved into his peripheral vision, but he didn’t need to look, he knew her. Still, the figure sat down next to him on the stool that hadn’t been there when he began to sing, and he turned his head to look at her, his fingers continuing to play the tune in time to their words.

“Say something I’m giving up on you, I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.” His eyes met hers, large dark eyes that drank him in, drew him in and threatened to make him lose himself as the memories came flooding back to him. Her hair was loose but flowed in a fountain of flowing curls that rested about her shoulders and framed thin a jaw and delicate chin that held a pair of lips, wide and thin but still seemingly full and able to draw the eye once you escaped her gaze. The red of her lipstick matched her form fitting and flowing red evening gown, which left her shoulders bare for her hair to roll over and a thigh length split in her dress revealing a shapely thigh that rested in a glittering silver heel, which themselves matched her thin chain necklace and earrings of silver, making her eyes and hair seem to shine further. She was mysteriously dark, yet the colours she wore all at once announced a sophisticated danger that Rico was all too familiar with. Looking back at him, those lips curved softly into a smile that held the promise of answers, companionship and the thing that Rico wanted most of all to avoid. Memories.

“And anywhere I would have followed you, say something I’m giving up on you.” Rico kept looking into her eyes, it wasn’t her, but it was. He knew she was gone and wasn’t coming back. He had moved on, found love again. Rico loved Ally with all of his heart, nothing was going to change that or take away what he had with her. The memories were all that remained, locked away and buried, to painful to bring back to the surface. But they were coming, despite all of his efforts to keep them buried. There was no way that she could come back, not from what had happened. No power in the universe could do that, and even if it could have, time had moved forward and he had the same love and emotions for Ally. He never thought he could have again, but Ally was special to him in ways he had forgotten a person could be.

“And I, will swallow my pride” he felt a wetness come to his eyes that he hadn’t expected, watching him, the woman smiled again, still in perfect harmony with him, both of their voices rising and getting stronger as the line continued, combining so that the sound was like a single person singing the matched so perfectly. “Your the one that I love, and I’m saying goodbye” the music he played rising in volume as well. “Say something I’m giving up on you, I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.” Rico’s voice changed in tone as the volume increased and the tune began to rise and dip, the woman’s voice changing to compliment, not mirror his in a way that seemed practised for eternity.
“And anywhere I would have followed you, say something I’m giving up on you.” The end of this line brought the speed and volume right down again, both voices falling back into step and tune, gentle and soft, the guitar seeming to simply hum the last few chords. “Say something I’m giving up on you” Rico moved his eyes to hers again, as both their voices dropped to almost a whisper. “Say something”....and the last few chords on the guitar played to the close, scattered applause and cheers from the holographic crowd, as expected, ringing out but Rico was deaf to them.

He let his guitar fall to the side and looked at her. The image of her brought back so many memories, of her, of them, of what cold have been if fate had not intervened. He could smell the perfume she wore, the one she sprayed lightly on his collar when they had been together so he always thought of her when they were apart, so that she was always with him in a more physical way. That memory, and the vision of her brought a lump to his throat and he had to get out. He stood, letting the guitar fall to the side with a crash as he moved to turn for the door, regretting coming here, of letting the pain back in and fill his chest again, but she was there beside him, her hand on his chest ever so gently and light, but stopping him as if it was a brick wall. Her touch again made his breath thin and made him feel dizzy, but he stopped and looked down at her hand, then followed it along her arm to her bare shoulder and rested once again on her eyes.

“Hi soldier” the woman said to him, the voice melodious and smooth, almost sultry and suggestive in it’s application but holding as much girl as it did woman. That had been something he loved about her, for all of the sophisticated woman that she had presented and been packaged as, she was always just a girl, his girl, who played with her hair and giggled and struggled to open jars as much as the next one, but she had been his and he had been crazy for her. “It’s been a long time” she continued, “I didn’t know if you would come back here. I missed you Rico.”

“Rosie” he stuttered, the name sounding unfamiliar when he said it, it had been so long and been buried so deep. “I’ve been busy, things have been hard since, well were hard. I shouldn’t have come Rosie, these memories hurt too much.” He looked down at her hand again and then sighed. “Your not her, this was a mistake. We made this program so that we could practise our songs and spend our time in your bar when we were away, but I shouldn’t have started it again today.”

The woman smiled, and for a hologram, it held more emotion, warmth and sadness, and loss, than one could think was possible. “You needed to” she told him, “You had to face your memories and feelings, especially today” she looked down, drawing Rico’s gaze to her hand, soft and tender, as she moved her fingers wider. She was just able to reach the three points on his chest where the scars lay, stab wounds that had nearly killed him and forced him into hospital where he couldn’t be there for her when she needed him the most. She lay her fingers over the scars, through his shirt and then raised his head to hers, her hand under his chin like a boy. “It wasn’t your fault” she told him, her own eyes seeming to be wet. “There was nothing you could have done, and if you weren’t in hospital, you wouldn’t be here now. You did the right thing, you always have” Rosie said to him, her voice soft and gentle, subtle. Pleading with him to understand and not blame himself. “I forgive you Rico, it wasn’t your fault. I loved you, and I always will from where I am. I will always be here, in our bar. I’m only a command to the computer away, but you have moved on and you still will, you have your life now. Make me proud and be the best man you can be, because I know you are one of the best. You had to be, I chose you.”

She dropped her hand and Rico stepped forwards, almost automatically to the door which appeared and slid open, revealing the cold corridors of the Ogawa beyond them. He turned to her and raised a curious eyebrow, “How did you know? Your only a hologram. My guitar. How?”

Rosie smiled and shook her head, reminding him that she had her ways and secrets that she loved keeping from him, if only to tease him and challenge him to find out. “Love finds a way” she said cryptically and Rico stepped out the doors and looked back at her. “That’s life, not love” he smiled finally, but only slightly. “Oh love is stronger than you think” Rosie said, “and what is life without love? Now go soldier. The bar is yours, so come back and visit Ok. Don’t be a stranger, I’ll be here when you need me.”
He reached out and palmed the control column, closing the doors on the program and the holographic Rosie. Shaking his head, he powered off the program and then turned to leave but paused, eyes closed, feeling the hurt and memories. “Computer, delete program RicoRosie1” and as the computer beeped in acknowledgement, he began to walk away and not look back.

A moment later and the door to the holo-deck opened. Rosie stood there just inside watching Rico walk away and she smiled. It wasn’t an evil smile or a smile of any kind of maliciousness, it was simple joy at seeing him and being able to see him again. “Men, they never listen” she said with a smirk and shook her head, her long wavy curls cascading over her shoulders and the necklace catching the light. She stepped back as the Holodeck powered down and she and the room faded from view as the doors closed after her. On the control panel, a light blinked confirming that the program had been saved for later.

Lt Rico Vanhall
CoS


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