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SIM:Lieutenant Aresee Ventu - "Poltergeist"


"Poltergeist"

238305.29 (May 29, 2006)

(( Ventu's Quarters ))

:: Aresee flew out of bed, soaring across the room in a bundle of sheets and blankets. When she reviewed the incident in her mind, she decided that she really didn't soar - it was probably more of a simply fall out of bed. Still, an urgent call in the middle of a dream of flying tends to do that to you.

She untangled herself from her sheets and rolled over to the replicator. Her last clean uniform had been recycled last night, so it was time to order a new one. ::

VENTU: Medical division uniform, sized for Counselor Ventu.

:: She stood up, picking her two golden pips off her bedside table as the replicator hummed. She turned back to it a second later...and found something she certainly hadn't expected. ::

VENTU: Computer, this is chocolate cake. I can't wear chocolate cake.

COMPUTER: Have you ever tried?

VENTU: Excuse me?

COMPUTER: Please re-state request.

VENTU: Okay, more normal there... Still... =/\= Ventu to Hunnicutt =/\=

:: Her combadge started playing Klingon opera. Aresee tabbed it off, theorizing that the voice wasn't Ben's, unless he'd taken up a new hobby. ::

VENTU: All right, you hunk of metal, one more time: Medical division uniform, sized for Counselor Ventu.

:: The replicator hummed again, and the chocolate cake disappered. In its place, a phaserappeared. ::

VENTU: Oh, don't tempt me. Look, just forget it.

COMPUTER: Acknowledged. Deleting all records concerning Counselor Ventu.

VENTU: No, I didn't mean... Why did you have to listen to THAT?

:: Aresee kicked the wall with the replicator, and while it didn't really help, it made her feel a bit better. She marched over to her closet, pulled out a teal dress, and pinned her pips to the collar line. It wasn't regulation, but it was better than going in her pajamas. Of course, there was still the matter of getting to the bridge...

Aresee walked toward her doors. She was walking rather quickly, the angry momentum still carrying her, and she didn't realized until she was three inches away that the door might be malfunctioning, too. If there'd been another person on the other side of the door just then, all they'd have heard was a dull thump, followed by a quick string of curses. A moment later, the door swished open, revealing Aresee, covering a fresh nosebleed. ::

VENTU: I hate you.

COMPUTER: Acknowledged.

:: The doors swished shut again as Aresee started forward. She wondered if starships could be possessed by malevolent entities, and made a mental note to look it up...if she was ever able to. She took a quick step back, and the door opened again. This time, she threw herself forward. She made it through, but fell in a teal-covered heap against the other wall. She quickly picked herself up, trying in vain to make her wild hair behave, but gave it up after a moment. She quickly set off for the closest turbolift, hiking her dress up as she did so and silently giving thanks that no one was around.

She reached the turbolift without incident, and the door even opened for her. Still, it wasn't without a little trepidition that she made her destination request. ::

VENTU: Bridge.

COMPUTER: You and what army?

:: Nevertheless, the doors slid closed, and Aresee was left to ponder why the computer even HAD an "antagonistic-voice" subroutine. It took her only a few seconds to realize that the turbolift was heading down instead of up. ::

VENTU: Computer, where are we going?

COMPUTER (singing): I wish I was in the land of cotton / Old times there are not forgotten / Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land! / In Dixie Land where I was born in...

VENTU: Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!

COMPUTER (singing): Early on one frosty mornin / Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land!

:: Aresee resigned herself to two things at that point: one, this was going to be one LONG turbolift ride, and two, she needed to track down whoever had programmed the computer voice, and kill them. ::

COMPUTER (singing): But when he put his arm around'er / He smiled as fierce as a forty-pound'er / Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land!

:: Slowly. ::


Lieutenant Aresee Ventu
Counselor
U.S.S. Victory