Contact Victor Williamson with your questions about simulator based experiential education programs for your school.
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Thursday, June 24, 2010

Enough! I've Spent Enough Time Today Trying to Prove This Wrong...



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Hello Troops,
I've spent enough time sitting at my desk trying to prove that I CAN move my foot and hand in opposite directions. You can imagine how ridulous I looked to the unaware customer that came in during one of my attempts.

I'm forwarding this on to you so you can waste a portion of your day trying, and looking just as foolish as me.

Oh, and if you can do what this says you can't do, then you are to be worshiped indeed.

Mr. Williamson

Personal Log 2: Adrian Stevens, Entry 3

This story is just for fun. Any resemblance to the staff at the space center is intentional. Any resemblance to a real space center mission is your imagination.

Aleta Clegg.

Personal Log 2: Adrian Stevens, Entry 3

by Aleta Clegg
Space Center Educator and Digitarium Director

“Shuttle bay looks clear,” Turner whispered.

Vasha nodded. She tapped a code on the access panel. The lights blinked.

“Shuttle undocking sequence intiated. Odyssey will undock in 10 minutes.” The words scrolled across the screen.

I fingered the phaser Vasha insisted I steal. Could I shoot someone from my own crew? Even on stun? Could I do it without shooting myself? I’d flunked every weapons exam I’d ever taken.

“They’re waiting on board for us.” Vasha waved us into the shuttle bay.

The airlock hissed shut, cycling quickly. We entered the Odyssey.

Commander Perry tapped keys on the command station. “Ship systems are coming online. Lieutenant Harken is on deck two persuading the ship’s computer specialist to join us. We’re going to need her help to get Delphi installed. We can get to the first objective, but we’ll need Delphi to fly beyond that.”

“Good work.” Vasha seated herself in the captain’s chair. “Turner, keep an eye on the power at Operations. Stevens, you take the comm. Perry, you have the pilot’s station.”

“Undocking procedure commencing. Shuttle bay doors opening,” the computer announced. “Disconnecting power from the Voyager.”

The lights dimmed. I slid into the chair in front of communications, Commander Perry sat to my left. She tweaked the thrusters. The ship lifted smoothly, sliding through the open doors into space.

Lights flashed on my station. The computer beeped. “I think someone is trying to hail us,” I said.

“Ignore them,” Vasha ordered. “Lieutenant Harken, set the computer to send an equipment malfunction code. Then get the torpedoes loaded with the decoy packages.”

“What happens if they fire on us?” Turner asked.

“They won’t. Delphi has disabled all weapons on the Voyager.”

“My lights are still blinking.” I prodded my controls.

“Harken? Are the decoys ready?”

“One moment, ma’am.” The overhead speakers crackled. “Evangeline put up some resistance. We’ll be ready to launch in a few moments.”

“How are power levels, Turner?”

“I have no idea. I’m a cook, Vasha.”

The lights flipped red. The alarm hooted. “Incoming torpedo. All hands brace for impact.”

“The Voyager is shooting at us?” Not even on my worst days did I ever imagine Captain Herring would shoot his own ships.

“Not the Voyager. That’s a battleship, but not showing any identification.” Turner tapped the sensors screen. “Unless I’m reading this wrong.”

“Get us out of here, Perry!” Vasha pushed Turner out of the way. “It’s a marauder! Harken, load those decoys!” Vasha turned to the Tactical station, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she bypassed the security codes. “Turner, push these buttons when that turns green.”

She came at me next. I tumbled from the chair, squeezing against the wall to get out of the way.

“All hands, brace for warp speeds, warp engines have been activated. Warning. Incoming torpedo. Impact in five, four, three...”

Vasha typed furiously. The warp engines powered slowly. Commander Perry calmly punched the thrusters, shifting the ship to one side.

“Two, one. Impact.”

The lights dimmed, the ship shook, smoke and sparks erupted from the engineering pod. The Odyssey shuddered as it accelerated to warp speeds.

The lights shifted back to normal blue.

“We’ve lost the engine core interositer and the main power grid,” Harken reported over the speakers.

“The stealth field is still operational.” Vasha brushed past me to check the command screen. “We’ll activate it later, when we’re closer and Delphi has had a chance to integrate.”

“Do you have a plan to rescue Captain Herring’s sister?” Turner asked.

“Did you get those decoys launched?”

“I pushed the button.”

Vasha smiled, seating herself in the captain’s chair. “My plan is already working. We’re going to trade with Del Brugado.”

“You’re giving him Delphi?” I shot a suspicious glance over my shoulder.

“Don’t be silly. I’m using Delphi to take over Del Brugado’s ship to deliver him to Starfleet headquarters. I just need to dangle bait that he can’t resist. We’re going to steal the Gemini device to trade to him.”

“We’re stealing a top secret device to give to a pirate. And here I thought I was through being a criminal.” I bit my tongue on the names I wanted to call Vasha. Idiot was the mildest by far.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Personal Log 2: Adrian Stevens, Entry 2

This story is just for fun. Any resemblance to the staff at the space center is intentional. Any resemblance to a real space center mission is your imagination.

Aleta Clegg.

Personal Log 2: Adrian Stevens, Entry 2

I slammed the cover of the replicator shut. Everything checked out perfect, but the hamburger deluxe still tasted of fresh strawberries, not flame-broiled beef. The light in the cafeteria flickered off. I slumped against the wall in the sudden darkness. Find the spy, ha! Admiral Williamson was delusional if he thought I could find anything on the ship. The Voyager was a mess. Nothing worked properly. Half the crew were on report at any given time. Captain Herring locked himself in his quarters for days on end, refusing to talk to anyone except Lieutenant Bradley.

Rumors of mutiny floated in the air. Mutiny against the Captain, not Starfleet, although if the Admiral was right, someone wanted the Voyager in Del Brugado’s pink-gloved hands.

The lights blinked back on. I collected my scattered tools.

Turner, my assistant, poked his head through the door to the empty cafeteria. “Adrian? The replicators on deck ten are delivering charcoal lumps.”

“Do they taste like strawberries?” I stuffed tools in my pockets. “We can’t get any replacements until we make Starbase 89 in another day or two.”

We walked together to the lift. Turner shot suspicious glances at the crew, clustering in small groups in the hallways. Officers stopped whispering as we passed. We stepped into the lift. The door slid shut.

Turner watched the lights flicker past. “This ship is cursed.”

I nodded agreement. Williamson’s warnings about not trusting anyone echoed in my head. Was Turner part of the conspiracy? He couldn’t be. He had less access than I did. How the Admiral expected me to find his spy was still a complete mystery.

The lift slowed, then changed direction.

I frowned. “We’re not headed for deck ten. We’re going up.”

Turner punched the stop button. The lift continued moving. He hit it again. “Stupid messed up piece of junk! Top of the line ship, ha! Nothing works right.”

I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket. “Let me at the controls.”

“And get us stuck here for the next six hours? I know how you like to abuse door controls.”

“Get out of my way, Turner.”

Turner crossed his arms. “Report me for mutiny. I dare you. I don’t want stuck in the lift with you. It’s still moving so it’s not broken. It’s just not going to deck ten. We can take the emergency ladders once it stops.”

As if on cue, the lift slid to a stop. The doors opened on a dim laboratory space with a clear dome ceiling. I craned my neck, watching stars as I exited the lift.

“Where are we?” Turner asked, staring overhead.

“Auxiliary Astronomical Observation Deck.”

We both looked to the far side of the room. A thin woman nervously chewed her fingernails. Her lips twitched in an imitation smile. “Hello, Adrian.”

“Vasha.” I greeted her. “I thought you were transferred to a planetary posting.”

She shoved a stray strand of hair behind one ear. “Captain Herring refused to sign the transfer papers.”

“Access ladders are over here.” Turner opened a hatch.

“The lift didn’t malfunction,” Vasha said. “I programmed it to bring you here. I trust you, Adrian. I need your help.”

Turner closed the hatch.

Vasha chewed her lip, watching me.

More intrigue. I hated playing games with people. I shoved the screwdriver back into my pocket. “What do you need, Vasha?”

“They’re filing charges against Captain Herring, conspiracy and piracy. He’s going to be court-martialed when we get to Starbase 89. I can’t let that happen. He doesn’t have a choice.”

I studied her face. “You know something about the mutiny or about the sabotage to the ship?”

She nodded. “Someone is trying to use the Delphi AI to control the ship.”

“They wiped the memory banks. Several times.”

Vasha flicked a glance at Turner. “They have a corrupt copy they keep installing. I don’t know who or I’d stop them. Del Brugado is holding Captain Herring’s sister and her family hostage. The captain has no choice but to do what the pirates tell him.”

“Why haven’t you told someone, like Admiral Williamson?”

Vasha shrugged. “I have no proof. Not yet. But I have a plan to help Drew, I mean the captain. I need your help.”

“How can we help? We run the kitchen.”

“I saw what you did last time, both of you. You can help.”

“Do what?” Turner asked.

Vasha pulled a data chip from her pocket. “This is the real Delphi protocol. I tweaked the programming.”

“We’re going to use it to take over the Voyager?” I couldn’t hide the skepticism in my voice. “It didn’t work last time.”

“But it did,” she corrected me. “It just took longer than I expected to fully integrate. And we aren’t taking over the Voyager. It’s too big. No, we’re going to rescue Drew’s sister and her family. You are going to help me steal the Odyssey. And Delphi is going to make it possible for us to fly it.”

I saw insanity in her eyes as she smiled. “Would you rather be shot in the mutiny that will happen tonight?”

Great. Steal a ship or get caught in the crossfire in a mutiny? Either way, my career and possibly my life were over. I accepted the lesser of the two evils.

“When?”

Vasha dropped the data chip in her pocket. “Right now.”