. . . USS Enterprise . .
. . 2265 . . .
I drummed my fingers on the counter alongside this big bulk of machinery.
"Computer." I said.
"Yes?" The computer replied, sharply.
It threw me off, really.
I never expected a computer to reply back to me like that,really, because laptops have artificial AI's known as Cortana. Cortana sounds like a woman straight out of a video game (Must be halo because I once had a client who ranted about it and Cortana like you wouldn't believe) that had some promotional spots on the TV. Come on, this doesn't have mind of its own . . . perhaps.
"Who is the captain of this ship?" I asked.
"Captain James T Kirk." The computer said.
I met Captain Kirk.
It all came back to me.
"I am a idiot." I said,rubbing my forehead. "Computer what is my occupation and rank?"
"Security guard, ensign." The computer replied, monotonely.
No wonder I did not recognize the captain, he was different. This is a entirely different universe. It had to be. I was familiar to those bright blue eyes staring through my soul right off the television screen being cocky, arrogant, and a wannabe captain. There was something different about the captain. He did look handsome and a lot older than the version I had been accustomed to. Spock, though, was easily recognizable. Was it the blue shirt? The hair style? It was the looks.
I realized then this quarters are much different to how I thought they would appear to be in the movies. The walls were not painted white, in fact they were a light gray. I was at a desk with a huge machine that really wasn't close to being future-istic. It is like someone made it a lousy excuse to be called a computer when computers bring up files, show pictures on screens, and search the web.
"Thank you, computer," I said. ". . . Computer. . . Make me a map of the Enterprise."
Why yes, a man does need his road map around a ship he just got on and everyone talks to him like he has been on there for years.