Chapter Text
“Ooh what’s on for Classic Movie - wait sorry, Classic Media Night this week?” Tendi asked and then flopped down in the booth next to Boimler.
The mess hall and bar were transformed into an impromptu theater, the tables and chairs lined up in rows to face one of the blank walls. Rutherford and Mariner stood up front, fiddling with a box with a glass lens on the front. Mariner held a rectangular white casing while Rutherford poked tentatively at the exposed, simplistic electronics on the table.
“Hey Tendi! Mariner said it’s some vintage Terran cartoon? I’m not exactly the biggest classic media buff, but I’ve never heard of it. It's from before there were holo-programs. You familiar with those?” Boimler replied.
“Nope, we didn’t really have a lot of vintage Terran media on Orion, though we did have some pretty killer bootleg Mafia-holo-programs about 1940’s Terra New York. ‘I’m walking ovah’ heyeh!’” Tendi answered, the end of her answer was an incredibly poor imitation of a stereotypical New Yorker.
Boimler chuckled "Ooh that's fun, I wonder how historically accurate those were."
Tendi laughed, "Oh, not at all, I think. There were lots of guys in suits getting in projectile gun fights in front of what I assume were national monuments. I don't think that was a daily occurrence, not even for Terra back then."
"True." Boimler leaned forward to call out “Hey Mariner, you gonna get that thing working tonight or should we call a red alert and cancel the whole thing?” A single, browned hand lifted in the air, middle finger raised back at Boimler. “Cool, Cool. Guess we should grab some snacks, huh?”
“Absolutely!” The two ambled over to the replicators and ordered up a nacho-sombrero, a handful of margaritas, and a few churros to round it off. A decent crowd of Beta shifters were seated in the impromptu theater when they got back to set the goodies down at their usual table.
Rutherford and Mariner stood now with their hands on their hips, gazing and glaring, respectively, at the white box.
“You think they remembered to plug it in?” Tendi asked Boimler, then before he could respond, she called out, “Hey Rutherford, did y’all plug it in?”
Rutherford slapped his forehead. Mariner threw her head back and groaned. They both looked down at a black cable running down from the box towards a wall where it stopped on the floor, unplugged. Mariner put the exterior casing back on the box.
“Thanks, Tendi! You are the best.” Mariner replied. She jogged over to the end of the cable, crouched, and pulled a multi-plasma-knife out of her pocket. She cut the plug off the end of the cable and spliced the wires inside. Then she elbowed open a wall panel behind her and spun on her heel to jam the now mangled power cable directly into the interior circuitry. It sparked briefly, then stopped.
Rutherford winced, “Mariner, did you have to wreck the wires like that? We could have easy used an atomo-splicer to avoid damaging antique machinery.”
Mariner rolled her eyes, “Yea we could have, but I decided to do it the quick way instead.” She walked back to the box, plugged a PADD into it, and a square illuminated onto the blank wall opposite it. “Success! Besides, this isn't even an original, I replicated it. No violating antique machinery today, no sir."
A logo floated in the center of the lit up square, "EPSON", before it vanished when a new box appeared that said "Running Auto Set-up". A moment later, a new logo appeared, a diamond shaped crest with a capital S stretched in the middle with a swell of orchestral music.
Mariner tapped on her PADD to pause the show and said, "Computer, dim lights to light level 2. Set window opacity to 5.”
The lights in the room dimmed, the windows darkened, the debris streaks from the warp bubble no longer visible outside. Mariner's face was light up haphazardly by the red and yellow diamond crest, her shadow projected onto the wall behind her.
Mariner announced, “Alright everybody, tonight for Classic Movie- wait shit, Classic Media Night is season one of the vintage Terran animated show titled “My Adventures with Superman”. It’s all that was left on the computers' media drive after the Mini-Crystal Entity wiped the memory banks last week.” The crowd groaned quietly at the mention of the most recent disaster to face the Cerritos. Each shift had been working overtime to fix the damage caused by it, and they were looking forward to an entertaining movie night to forgot the horrors of deep space and second contact for a minimum of ninety minutes.
“Hey, hey it’s cool. I pre-watched a few of the episodes, and sure, they were definitely made for a younger audience, but it’s pretty fun." Mariner narrowed her eyes, "Besides, we can't watch Shrek every week, I don't care if the soundtrack is iconic, Gonzalez!" A muted "Hey! It's a film!" erupted from Gonzalez, presumably.
"Anyways, enjoy!” Mariner tapped on the PADD again to play the show, the animation kicked up, and then she headed over to sit down with Tendi, Rutherford, and Boimler at their usual table.
“Dude, where’s the popcorn?” Mariner elbowed Boimler.
He elbowed back, “I figured it wasn’t necessary since it’s not Classic Movie night anymore, nothing in the rules say popcorn is required for Classic Media Night. Different night, different food.” Boimler smiled smugly, happy to have outwitted Mariner for once.
Mariner grabbed one of the margaritas and slumped back in her seat, “Dammit, you got me, next Classic Media Night, I’m re-writing the flyer to reflect the requirement of the consumption of popcorn while viewing the classic media. Take that rules.”
Tendi and Rutherford quietly sssh-ed the other two, and all settled in to watch the show.
Several episodes rolled by. They’ve watched Clark Kent discover his powers, start his internship at the Daily Planet with best friend Jimmy Olson, and develop the most adorably disgusting crush on Lois Lane when Mariner realized what was bugging her. The voice acting for Clark sounded remarkably familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. The show played on for another episode, Mariner huffing at how laughably simple the supposed advanced Kryptonian tech in the show was, pre-contact Terran sci-fi was cute, before it hit her.
“Hey, Boims, does Superman’s voice sound familiar at all?” She asked him quietly.
Boimler’s forehead and eyes wrinkled in concentration for a moment, listening and confused, before he replied, “Uh no? Is this a trick question and the answer is that you either thieved from or had sex with or went on a space adventure with or got in a bar fight against a descendant of the voice actor?”
“Ew, no, I’m more than just a sexy space rogue, dude. No, seriously.”
“Ok, well spit it out, the more I know and all that.” Boimler whispered.
“No way, that’ll bias your answer and as we both know, that’s bad science. Keep thinking.” Mariner leaned across to Rutherford and Tendi and asked them too. Both considered for a moment, listening to the show.
Tendi bounced in her seat, “I’ve got it! He sounds like Ransom.”
Mariner shook her head, “No, that’s not quite it. Rutherford?”
Rutherford listened for a moment more, before watching Jimmy get kidnapped by a gorilla on screen. A wave of incredulous noises erupted from them and the rest of the present crew. The next episode started and he closed his eye, the digital one showed a closed animation, listening. Then he snapped his fingers.
“I think I know. He sounds like Boimler. Right?” Rutherford opened his eyes, physical and digital.
“Ding ding ding. It took me a minute, cause like Boimler's voice is way screechier and nerdier, but it’s right there, right?” Mariner said.
“Wait no, that’s not right. My voice is not screechy.” Boimler interjected before listening again, eyes closed, as Clark talked to Lois on screen. “Well, ok, you might be on to something.”
“I knew it! Ok, once season 1 is over, we’ll poll the audience and figure out if we’re right. Ooh, and then you can dress up like Superman for the Halloween party this year.” Mariner told him.
“Absolutely not. You know I already have my Those Old Scientists outfit planned, and it’s way more accurate since we actually met Spock. I custom molded the ears and everything.” Boimler whispered back.
“Let’s make it a bet.” Tendi butted in, “That’ll make it more interesting. If more people think he does sound like the character, then he has to do it. If not, he can be boring old Spock.”
“Spock’s not boring!” Boimler squawked before sheepishly slumping down in his seat as the crew glared in his direction.
Rutherford rubbed at his chin as though considering a problem of significantly more serious proportions, “Ok, since the butt of the joke is Boimler, maybe he’d agree if you were embarrassed too. If more people think he sounds like Clark, then he dresses as Superman AND you dress up as Lois, and if not, then he can be Spock and you can be whatever you were gonna dress up as.” Rutherford compromises.
Mariner narrowed her eyes. “Alright, fine, if that’s what it takes, I'll abandon my sexy Spock cosplay. Boimler?”
Boimler's mouth dropped, "You would never. Spock is sacred."
"Oh, I would. I have the fishnets and deep V neck uniform and regulation booty shorts and everything for sexy Spock." Mariner fired back.
Boimler crossed his arms, “Ok, fine, the bet is on.”