Games
"Well, Commander, there's nothing dangerous about this chip, if that's what you're asking. It contains hundreds of programs, but I don't know what they're supposed to be."
Riker looked at Geordi and waited.
"Every program seems to contain some sort of reference to an ancient laser system. Non-violent, but it seems to have been one of the first attempts at creating a transporter. But they were missing one important piece of the puzzle: where were you supposed to rematerialize?"
"Perhaps they weren't looking into transporter technology just yet. You remember Montgomery Scott? He survived more than a hundred years by saving his pattern in a transporter's buffer. Perhaps that was what they were aiming for in this."
"It's possible, but the data here is not detailed enough for that."
"See if you can reconstruct this laser. The Captain's going to want to see it."
"My thoughts exactly."
The dimly lit room suddenly brightened as four women in skin-tight, glowing outfits approached him silently.
"Can you tell me what's going on here?" He asked of them as they began shredding his uniform. As his uniform was replaced by a close-fitting black outfit, he stood in silence.
Attention, program. You will be issued an identity disc. Everything you say, do, or learn will be imprinted on this disc. If you attempt to destroy or lose the disc, or if you disobey a command, you will be subject to immediate deresolution.
The women all returned to their alcoves, and one stood expectantly outside hers. Looking her in the eye, Riker asked, "What the hell's going on here?"
"Survival," she said before stepping into her alcove.
Riker was blinded by a white light that spilled into the room as a doorway opened and is feet were surrendered by the technology he was standing on. What the hell?
When his eyes had adjusted to the light, he found himself on a small, enclosed moving platform hovering within an arena.
What is this? Riker asked of himself as a crowd cheered and the platform came to a rest on the floor of the arena. Lightcycle grid activated. Round one. Begin.
A stick-like object rose upward from the ground and hovered at arms-length away from him, and he stared at it, confused. Next to him were two others, both of which grabbed the object and ran forward, jumping as they split it in two. Motorcycles?
Not knowing what else to do, Riker followed suit. As the object split, he watched as a wire-frame version of the motorcycle materialized and fleshed itself out into a vehicle. Incredible... Deciding to veer to the left, he traveled along the arena wall, trying to stay out of the way as a ribbon of light streamed out from his hind wheel.
The bike traveled at high speed, and Riker had to take a moment to figure out how it was supposed to function. When he'd managed to teach himself the basics, he watched as a single opponent used its bike to destroy the others. Just my luck, he thought as he kept himself steady. A gladiatorial society...
Suddenly, his stomach lurched as it went down a ramp and swerved a bit. As he tried to regain control, the opponent crossed his path and he found himself flying through the air amid pieces of debris. He came to a stop and tried to bring himself to his feet, coughing in an attempt to get air into his lungs. His opponent had disabled its bike and was standing over him with a glowing identity disc...
