September/October 2024 Challenge: It's said that everyone has their price, that one thing that they would trade absolutely anything for, or stop at nothing to get. For this challenge, what is that price, and what would your character(s) do when offered the chance to have their deepest desire? Maybe a "friend" is involved, a superior officer, a Q (or similar being of your own devising), or perhaps it's Ol' Scratch himself looking to make a deal. Or maybe the deal is made, and the character(s) are dealing with the aftermath, and perhaps a bit of buyer's remorse?
Trek BBS: September/October 2024 Challenge
"For a Kingdom, and for Less: Face/On"
The Prometheus-class U.S.S. Phoenix-X sifted, sleekly and surreptitiously through silent space while Operations officer Lieutenant Briggs took on a long-range communication, at the back of the Bridge, with an older man: a human, that looked just like Briggs— albeit, decades older.
"Walter, I have to do this to make things right. When you found me in that salvage, all that time ago, I took your form without your consent," Briggs pleaded. "I became you and haven't been able to shake your form ever since."
The older gentlemen chuckled. "You don't owe me anything, Briggs. You're a Silver Blood who was discovering what life was. My place in your development was an honour for me. You know the Federation seeks out new yous and new yous in groups, right? That’s what that was." He shifted. "Besides, you can't possibly want to tap the toxic plethora that is that mad Doctor Lox? I heard he once medically assisted a Caitian and an Antican with breeding?"
"He did, and I read their kids are pure, unrelenting forces of zoomies. In fact, ever since joining the Phoenix-X, I've been learning more of the unwarranted research Lox took part in when he served here regularly," Briggs began. "He's so out-there that he’s that chance we all want, to be granted our deepest desires. I'm going to use his metagenic research to finally alter my form and my face to something iconically new!"
---
The following fortnight, Doctor Lox took the Class-2 shuttle Uzumaki from his regular posting all the way to the Phoenix-X for his this-month’s scheduled work week there. He soon found himself in Sickbay with Doctor Xyrenia, both in orange surgery garb, prepared to perform over a bio-bedded Briggs.
"I’m here to support bio-chronometric research, not get my hands dirty in biomimetic goo," the cranky old, grey-haired human grumbled while fitting his gloves. "Also, why are you venerating me, like some kind of immeasurable source of medically absorbable bounty?"
Briggs squinted. "Just accept what you are, a genie-like mad scientist. You once unleashed a genetic plague upon Trill society so that they'd have spots instead of ridges."
"Oh, snap!?" Xyrenia double-took in abject realization of her colleague.
Lox sighed to the both of them. "That is classified, as is all my species-wide genomodulating discharges— especially the Klingon ones."
"Understood, Doctor. But this metamorphosis will be the final, immeasurable steps into a satisfyingly profound longing for individuality," Briggs explained. "Also, I want a little bit off the sides? As well as the top?"
After a moment of shared looks, both doctors nodded and began their acquiesced-medical punctures into scientific impossibility, rigging the biobed into manipulating Briggs' biomimetic matrix like never before. It wouldn't be long before the Silver Blood patient would awaken to find the procedure a complete success.
"By the Greek gods who turned out to be real," he awed in alluring shock at seeing a new face in his handed hand mirror. "I'm as brand new as any Enterprise refit! Cue me for Decker conflicts and Spacedock One escapes."
---
Entering the Bridge, Briggs found the senior staff already engaged in an onscreen confrontation with an Edison-class U.S.S. Vincennes. Displayed, were at-the-ready human Augments in torn civilian clothing.
"Your rein of terror ends here, Vincennes," Commander Seifer announced. "Being hijacked by a bunch of genetically modified maniacs? Talk about starship shortcomings. You were built to be crewed by Starfleet personnel."
The lead Augment, Jengo, blinked, confused. "Are— are you talking to the ship? We're standing right here. Also, all your base are belong to us!" Then, shaking his head. "Damn our genetically modified syntax. It glitches sometimes. I meant, Starbase 55 will be ours. The thing that's right behind you."
"Sorry, I'm late," Briggs interrupted as the Phoenix-X repositioned itself on guard of Starbase 55. "I literally just got out of surgery."
Seifer nodded. "All good, Briggs. Maybe you can use your powers of Operations to make sense of that ship's awkward crew deficiencies?" But, before they could go on, everyone took notice of Briggs' new form: Khan Noonien Singh.
"Holy stabby hell's heart!" security officer Elly nearly jumped. "Are you doing a thing? A terrible, terrible thing?"
Veker arched a brow. "She's right in her abject shock. You look like Khan, but instead of a man of South Asian descent, you're a man of Spanish descent."
"What!?" Briggs ran over to a console and pulled up visual records of Khan. "I was so blinded by change-passion, I didn't even realize who I was changed into? A fanatic mired by the cognitive dissonance of a legendary performance??"
Lox stepped out of the shadows, whilst eating a small bag of chips. "I'll field this fieldable branch of inquiry. You see, we used Federation artificial intelligence to source facial features from the trillions upon trillions of people from our past to modify Briggs but, due to his biomimetic feedback, we inadvertently derived the parameters of an historical genocidal maniac of mullet proportions."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jengo argued. "That’s our holy leader and our purpose you're demonizing. We are the Children of Kahn and, as such, we know that even in some alternate universes, he was completely Causcasian with a British accent. Totally contusive of colonialism that we absolutely love! Genetic mashing is our bread and butter. As such, we would absolutely welcome Briggs as a pseudo societal figure head. Like the whole Kahless thing the Klingons did."
The Lieutenant tried pulling his Ricardo Montalbán-looking face apart in the stress of it all. "No, no, no. I can't be this, and I can't join you for those genocidal adventures either. True that Silver Bloods only can take on the forms of others, but the regular man that I was a replicant of was far more honourable than this racebending exterminationist— His incredible performance notwithstanding."
"Agreed. It seems when emulation is necessary, who you pattern does matter. Briggs, initiate multi-vector separation," Commander Seifer ordered to a snapping-out-of-it Operations officer. In seconds, the Phoenix-X detached in place, spreading its now-three-parts in tactical readiness.
Jengo jumped back in shock. "How dare you task us with your Prometheus-class nonsense! Superiority still has its place in everyday society. We are a staple adversary and being at space odds like this could only be sorted by someone of our leader's brilliance. We'll be back."
"Kind of feels like we're making enemies every week now," Hachi observed as the Vincennes warped out there and the Phoenix-X was reintegrated. Briggs was then approached by Doctors Lox and Xyrenia.
Briggs sighed. "And I refuse to be one of them. If my biomimetic interference prevents proper slider randomization, can you just put me back to the way I was, Doctor?" He looked off. "Walter was the right choice from the start, and authenticity can't be repackaged."
"I knew Lox's methods may have resulted in unwarranted hijinks, so this highly illegal bio-mimetic gel should revert you to your previous form," Xyrenia said as she injected Briggs with a hypospray that then turned him back to his younger Walter-self. "But, be forewarned, it'll turn you Khan and back every injection."
The Operations officer looked at his hands, now to normal. "So, this transgression is fittingly a part of me forever. A perpetual reminder to be careful what you wish for. Sorry about the over exaltation, Doctor."
"I've always wanted to be more Kirk-like," Seifer pondered out loud. "Imagine the alien space-women I could land, on top of strategically torn shirts. A man of his visage, coming in and saving the day on foreign worlds presumed of incompetence is precisely what we're all about." He pointed. "To the operating table!"