ENTRANCE POST - Julian Comes Out of the Closet
Opening one eye a crack, he waited for his vision to clear before opening the other one and chancing a good look … down. He groaned again.
“Why do I insist on leaving the safeties off?” he whispered to himself. His mind reeled as he waited for his stomach and head to recover, wondering why in the universe he had decided to spend his first day off in three weeks in this program with no guarantee he would make it out alive. Why?
You know why, Bashir. It’s because you need to be challenged constantly. You need to feel the adrenaline coursing through your body, knowing you are one misstep away from certain death.
He tested the bonds that attached his leg to the scaffold above, wondering if his head might split wide open before he could free himself. “Well, this is quite the trap you’ve set for me this time, Dr. Noah.”, he mumbled to himself as he glanced at his 18k-gold Bulova wristwatch.
Not much time to get to the British Museum and rescue Professor Honeybear.
He had to hurry; there was no time to waste. The idea of slipping his foot out of his shoe and sock occurred to him, but the rope was tied so as not to allow him that kind of escape.
It’s not enough for you, is it? The Infirmary, the away missions, the explosions, damaged ships, mangled bodies. No, you’re becoming numb to that, aren’t you? Ever since getting back from that Dominion prison you’ve started to change. You need to push yourself, test your boundaries, your limits, and your abilities. You don’t have to hold back now, not since you’ve been exposed and labeled a freak, an augment, someone that could no longer be trusted.
Humans still were not sure whether or not they wanted him to examine them, operate on them, and cure their illnesses.
Is that why you are here, then? No one can judge you or call you names or look at you with hatred in their eyes. You know you should be asleep in your quarters, not here dangling like a child’s toy on a string above the Thames. It’s not any safer in here than it is out there.
The bullet whizzed by his face so closely, he could feel the heat from it and he began to swing his arms and legs in a wide arc as his heart hammered against his ribs.
Oh yeah, you should most definitely be asleep in your quarters.
Once he had enough momentum to arch his back and bring his hands to his knee, he started to inch his way up to reach the thick ropes wrapped tightly around his leg. He knew he might not survive the plunge into the Thames, but he had no other choice as more bullets began to whistle and streak past his body. Finally reaching the knots, he began to untie them and in seconds, he was falling towards the water below, thinking of how warm and dry he would be right now if he were only in his bed asleep in his quarters.
He hit the water with such force that the wind was knocked from his lungs. He managed to keep from gasping and drawing water into his lungs as he struggled to swim his way to the surface. But he had so far to go! He was swimming frantically, his lungs burning as he realized he might not make it in time. He cursed himself and closed his eyes, as if that would help him to conserve what little air he had left and suddenly he felt himself shifting laterally, as if he were being moved along by some unknown force at a very great speed. His eyes flew open wide as he tried to see what might be happening, when he was jerked violently to the left and yanked out of the water. The last thing he remembered thinking was there had to be something terribly wrong with the holosuite.
He came awake quickly, coughing, gasping, his lungs still burning and water sliding in rivulets off of his body onto the slate floor of the broom closet.
Broom closet?
Well, what looked to have once been a broom closet … of sorts? The room was long and narrow with extremely high ceilings. It now held all sorts of personal effects, from straight razors to electric razors and just about anything in between. Julian groaned again as he brought in enough air and calmed his breathing. Aside from being soaking wet and still having a terrible headache, he was miraculously unscathed.
He’d had enough. Now was a good time to stop the program. It was clearly malfunctioning.
“Computer, end program!”
Nothing.
Louder, his voice commanding and maybe even a little bit concerned, he tried again.
“Computer! End program, Bashir alpha-one-four-three-five!”
Again, no response. He slapped his comm pin on his chest and called for assistance.
“Ops!” Julian heard nothing and he slapped it again, harder this time. “Ops, do you read me?”
“What the hell?” He had to find out what was going on. Surely there was something he could do, he just had to think!
He made to get up off the floor and untangle his long limbs from whatever it was he was trapped under when everything came tumbling down on top of him from the floor to ceiling shelves in a horrible crash, the door bursting open as the contents of the closet … and Julian … came spilling out onto the floor of the lobby.
Once everything had settled, Julian sat among the countless items and looked around. The lobby was a disaster. He listened to the only sound in the room, his own ragged breathing. He looked around warily as he stood, trying to press out the wrinkles in his soaking wet tuxedo, not because he was conscious of his appearance really, but just out of habit. This was also buying him some time to try and figure out just what might be going on here.
Quark needs to take better care of his holosuites. He would have a talk with the Ferengi once he made it out of the program, if he made it out of the program.
He swallowed hard and made his way over to the front desk, trying not to step on anything in the process. He smoothed his hair from his forehead and smiled weakly at the man.
“Umm, hello.” Before he could say anything else, the man replied in a pleasant, patient voice.
“Welcome to the Hotel California. We’ve been expecting you, Dr. Bashir.”
“The Hotel California, huh?” Definitely a glitch in the program.
The man smiled. “Yes, that’s right. We’ve been expecting you.” The man passed Julian an ancient style skeleton key and took stock in the doctor’s appearance.
“I’m sure you’ll want to change into dry clothes after a hot shower and some refreshment?”
Julian barely nodded, eying the man suspiciously, but not knowing what else to do at the moment.
“Fine, then. I suggest you make yourself right at home. I’m sure there is someone here that would be more than happy to show you to your room, doctor. Good day.”
The man bowed respectfully and turned away; busying himself with picking up the mess Julian had created upon his arrival.
“Um, alright. Good day to you too.”
He patted his breast pocket, feeling for the Luger. It was there, safe and sound. He took his key and straightened his shoulders, trying for the most dignified look he could muster as he strode toward the elevators.
“Dr. Noah is behind this, I’m sure of it!”
“Why do I insist on leaving the safeties off?” he whispered to himself. His mind reeled as he waited for his stomach and head to recover, wondering why in the universe he had decided to spend his first day off in three weeks in this program with no guarantee he would make it out alive. Why?
You know why, Bashir. It’s because you need to be challenged constantly. You need to feel the adrenaline coursing through your body, knowing you are one misstep away from certain death.
He tested the bonds that attached his leg to the scaffold above, wondering if his head might split wide open before he could free himself. “Well, this is quite the trap you’ve set for me this time, Dr. Noah.”, he mumbled to himself as he glanced at his 18k-gold Bulova wristwatch.
Not much time to get to the British Museum and rescue Professor Honeybear.
He had to hurry; there was no time to waste. The idea of slipping his foot out of his shoe and sock occurred to him, but the rope was tied so as not to allow him that kind of escape.
It’s not enough for you, is it? The Infirmary, the away missions, the explosions, damaged ships, mangled bodies. No, you’re becoming numb to that, aren’t you? Ever since getting back from that Dominion prison you’ve started to change. You need to push yourself, test your boundaries, your limits, and your abilities. You don’t have to hold back now, not since you’ve been exposed and labeled a freak, an augment, someone that could no longer be trusted.
Humans still were not sure whether or not they wanted him to examine them, operate on them, and cure their illnesses.
Is that why you are here, then? No one can judge you or call you names or look at you with hatred in their eyes. You know you should be asleep in your quarters, not here dangling like a child’s toy on a string above the Thames. It’s not any safer in here than it is out there.
The bullet whizzed by his face so closely, he could feel the heat from it and he began to swing his arms and legs in a wide arc as his heart hammered against his ribs.
Oh yeah, you should most definitely be asleep in your quarters.
Once he had enough momentum to arch his back and bring his hands to his knee, he started to inch his way up to reach the thick ropes wrapped tightly around his leg. He knew he might not survive the plunge into the Thames, but he had no other choice as more bullets began to whistle and streak past his body. Finally reaching the knots, he began to untie them and in seconds, he was falling towards the water below, thinking of how warm and dry he would be right now if he were only in his bed asleep in his quarters.
He hit the water with such force that the wind was knocked from his lungs. He managed to keep from gasping and drawing water into his lungs as he struggled to swim his way to the surface. But he had so far to go! He was swimming frantically, his lungs burning as he realized he might not make it in time. He cursed himself and closed his eyes, as if that would help him to conserve what little air he had left and suddenly he felt himself shifting laterally, as if he were being moved along by some unknown force at a very great speed. His eyes flew open wide as he tried to see what might be happening, when he was jerked violently to the left and yanked out of the water. The last thing he remembered thinking was there had to be something terribly wrong with the holosuite.
He came awake quickly, coughing, gasping, his lungs still burning and water sliding in rivulets off of his body onto the slate floor of the broom closet.
Broom closet?
Well, what looked to have once been a broom closet … of sorts? The room was long and narrow with extremely high ceilings. It now held all sorts of personal effects, from straight razors to electric razors and just about anything in between. Julian groaned again as he brought in enough air and calmed his breathing. Aside from being soaking wet and still having a terrible headache, he was miraculously unscathed.
He’d had enough. Now was a good time to stop the program. It was clearly malfunctioning.
“Computer, end program!”
Nothing.
Louder, his voice commanding and maybe even a little bit concerned, he tried again.
“Computer! End program, Bashir alpha-one-four-three-five!”
Again, no response. He slapped his comm pin on his chest and called for assistance.
“Ops!” Julian heard nothing and he slapped it again, harder this time. “Ops, do you read me?”
“What the hell?” He had to find out what was going on. Surely there was something he could do, he just had to think!
He made to get up off the floor and untangle his long limbs from whatever it was he was trapped under when everything came tumbling down on top of him from the floor to ceiling shelves in a horrible crash, the door bursting open as the contents of the closet … and Julian … came spilling out onto the floor of the lobby.
Once everything had settled, Julian sat among the countless items and looked around. The lobby was a disaster. He listened to the only sound in the room, his own ragged breathing. He looked around warily as he stood, trying to press out the wrinkles in his soaking wet tuxedo, not because he was conscious of his appearance really, but just out of habit. This was also buying him some time to try and figure out just what might be going on here.
Quark needs to take better care of his holosuites. He would have a talk with the Ferengi once he made it out of the program, if he made it out of the program.
He swallowed hard and made his way over to the front desk, trying not to step on anything in the process. He smoothed his hair from his forehead and smiled weakly at the man.
“Umm, hello.” Before he could say anything else, the man replied in a pleasant, patient voice.
“Welcome to the Hotel California. We’ve been expecting you, Dr. Bashir.”
“The Hotel California, huh?” Definitely a glitch in the program.
The man smiled. “Yes, that’s right. We’ve been expecting you.” The man passed Julian an ancient style skeleton key and took stock in the doctor’s appearance.
“I’m sure you’ll want to change into dry clothes after a hot shower and some refreshment?”
Julian barely nodded, eying the man suspiciously, but not knowing what else to do at the moment.
“Fine, then. I suggest you make yourself right at home. I’m sure there is someone here that would be more than happy to show you to your room, doctor. Good day.”
The man bowed respectfully and turned away; busying himself with picking up the mess Julian had created upon his arrival.
“Um, alright. Good day to you too.”
He patted his breast pocket, feeling for the Luger. It was there, safe and sound. He took his key and straightened his shoulders, trying for the most dignified look he could muster as he strode toward the elevators.
“Dr. Noah is behind this, I’m sure of it!”