Neil burst through the blue doorway, finding himself in the heart of the main steam-powered engine room, where the intricate mechanisms chugged and hissed around him.
"Alright…" Neil surveyed the room, his mace resting on his shoulders, "Now what?"
Scanning his surroundings, he noticed a distinctive blue ring encircling the central engine, signaling its significance amidst the otherwise unremarkable interior.
Pondering his next move, Neil realized he was out of his depth and in need of assistance. "Neil to Kayuli," he tapped his combadge discreetly beneath his armor, "What does the blue signify that the others can't?"
"I'm not really supposed to…"
"Kayuli, if you don't lend a hand, I'll strip you of holodeck privileges for the remainder of our trip!" Neil's frustration seeped into his voice, the confines of the simulation chafing against his patience.
"Blue indicates tanks, designed for superior defense and durability!" Kayuli responded crisply, his tone indicating his readiness to comply, "Sir!"
"So, my job is to protect this engine?" Neil questioned, tapping the steam engine with his mace.
"I'm not there…Sir... but I would assume so?" Kayuli's uncertainty mirrored Neil's own.
"Thanks for the guidance," Neil acknowledged, casting a bewildered glance around the room, "I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to protect it from…"
"Aha! There it is!" Suddenly, a gangster in a 1920s mobster zoot suit materialized, brandishing a Tommy gun with a menacing grin. His yellow skin and piercing eyes added to the surreal scene. "Light 'em up, boys!" the gangster declared, though he was inexplicably alone.
"Not on my watch!" Neil braced himself, readying his mace. The fact that the gangster bore an uncanny resemblance to Lieutenant Commander Data in a 1920s Dixon Hill novel didn't deter Neil's resolve—he was itching for action.
As the gangster raised his Tommy gun, Neil swung his spiked mace with precision, shattering the weapon in midair.
"Hey now! You don't wanna mess wi—" The gangster's protest fell on deaf ears as Neil swiftly dispatched him, reducing the holographic assailant to nothingness with a decisive blow.
A sizzle of energy and another clone of Data's gangster personas appeared, then another, and another.
Neil grinned madly ready for battle, "Now this is more like it!" Swinging his baseball mace to and fro, like the seasoned fighter he was, he deftly removed the holographic assailants one after another.
With a powerful batter's swing, he dematerialized the last clone, and the threat was neutralized, the steam engine began to gleam, and the blue doorway reopened.
"Alright! Maybe there is some fun in this program after all!" Neil grinned, readjusting his mace on his shoulders as he exited the room, satisfied with his performance.
—
Anzyl approached the green door, and a voice chimed overhead, "As the Healer, your task is different from your team's, and must fully heal and save the life of Draygo the Dragon, Guardian of Phantasma Keep. Should you injure him or fail to ensure his survival, your task will be deemed a failure." With that, the green door swung open wide.
Activating his nouliths, Anzyl stepped inside, repeating to himself, "Heal and save the…" as he entered a dungeon room, pausing suddenly at the sight before him.
Instead of a fearsome and gigtantic dragon behind the bars of the prison, he found himself face to face with an older Italian man in a chic suit, sitting forlornly on the ground. "...Dragon?" Anzyl uttered in confusion.
"Sorry, pal, but I ain't no dragon," came the smokey voice as the man looked up from his solitary reverie.
"Vic?!" Anzyl exclaimed, recognition dawning. "Vic Fontaine?!"
The older gentleman shot him a look of surprise. "Anzyl? Is that you, pal?" He rose from his makeshift seat. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"
"Vic…" Anzyl mused aloud, memories flooding back. "The last time I saw you was on Deep Space 9 when Dax and Bashir took me out to dinner at your club…"
"I know!" Vic confirmed with a nod. "I was there! And you liked my program so much, you had the doc make a copy for your new boat, the Nexus!"
"Yeah, after I visited Dax following the Symbiote pirate incident!" Anzyl recalled, "But… what are you doing here?"
"Beats me, pal!" Vic shrugged. "One minute, I'm singing 'I've Got the World on a String' on stage at the club, and the next, I'm locked behind bars, and lo and behold, you walk in!"
"Vic, do you have any clue what's happening to the holodeck programs?" Anzyl inquired, remembering Vic's status as a fully sentient holo character, aware of his holographic nature.
"Beats me, pal," Vic replied. "As far as I can tell, the holodecks have been so overtaxed that holo matrices are blending and mixing, like making a Dirty Apple Martini. Some things may sound the same, but they should by no means ever mix together!" he joked before shuddering. "Oh… " a sudden realization filled his face with terror and dread, "If I'm in here, then who's singing on stage at the club?"
—
On the stage of a classic 1960s Las Vegas nightclub, bathed in the warm glow of stage lights, a towering green dragon stood behind a vintage microphone. In front of a 15-man band, the dragon began to sing, albeit with a deep and melodious voice that belied its fearsome appearance. The audience, though perplexed, couldn't help but be drawn in by the spectacle before them.
"Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea!" the dragon crooned, its rich tones filling the room with an unexpected charm. As the band played on, the audience exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what to make of this unusual performance.
—
Shaking his head, Vic snapped out of his reverie. "Never mind. I don't wanna think about it," he said, gesturing towards the jail bars. "So, are you going to help me out or what pal?"
"Oh! Of course!" Anzyl replied eagerly, raising his nouliths. "Stand back, Vic!" With precision, he directed his four nouliths at the locks, firing concentrated beams that melted the gate lock right off, swinging the prison cell open.
"Thanks, pal!" Vic said, giving Anzyl a firm handshake. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a nightclub to hopefully not have to save!" With a wave goodbye, he dematerialized.
Confused, Anzyl pondered to himself, "Why didn't he just do that in his cell?" as he made his way out of the room.
—
With their respective challenges conquered, the team regrouped at the imposing courtyard gate as it finally yielded to their efforts, unlocking with a series of metallic clicks.
"Everyone finished up?" Kayuli inquired, scanning the group to ensure everyone had returned.
"All present and accounted for, sir," Tey'un replied, offering a crisp salute.
"Mine was a breeze," Neil declared proudly, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
One by one, the locks securing the gate disengaged, their metal forms dissolving into nothingness.
Finally Anzyl approached the group, his green lock followed suit, vanishing into thin air.
With all four locks now removed, the massive door began to swing open, its hinges groaning with the effort.
"So, what were your tasks?" Anzyl asked curiously, stepping through the threshold into the castle's depths.
"I shot a Data impersonator in the face." Tey'un replied bluntly, the group following suit into the dimly lit corridor beyond.