That One Test

Posted on Mon Feb 6th, 2017 @ 4:32am by Lieutenant Commander Jean Reynard

Episode: Out of Sequence
Location: Starfleet Academy. Holodeck 14
Timeline: 2390

[USS Loknar NCC-61650 / Academy Holodeck #14]

"Captain's log, stardate 49177.4. We are now entering hour six of our cruise along the Klingon border. Thus far there have been no contacts on our sensors in any direction. We have just placed the seventh of the eighteen tachyon detection buoys that will form the outer layer of the new perimeter warning network in this sector. If we continue at our current pace, we'll be done in just under twelve hours."

"Assuming that we don't fall over from exhaustion by then."

Jean toggled the record button on his chair's arm and turned to face the science station. "Yes, Yuri Andreivich, assuming that."

Jean suspected that whoever had created this historical simulation had gone out of their way to make sure everyone was as tired and hungry as possible, not that Academy cadets or officers at Command School for refresher training needed much encouragement to reach that state, especially when starting at the end of the work day. Simulations of six hours or longer weren't uncommon, but as a general rule there was what at least some warning when one was coming up. Of course, it was also possible that the simulation wasn't intended to last so long, but they had somehow missed whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. He really hoped a Klingon battle fleet hadn't sneaked past his ship.

"T'pas, how long until we reach the next drop point?" Jean asked his Vulcan operations officer.

"Fifteen minutes, sir."

Jean nodded. "All right, here's what we're going to do. Once the drop is made, we're going to start rotating breaks to use the head and grab something from the replicator. Since we don't have reliefs, though, we can't spare any time for naps, so we'll be breaking out the stims."

"Sweet. I love stims," the helmswoman said.

"And we love you when you're on them, Rei." Jean sincerely hope it wouldn't come to that. None of them would get a moment's silence once so much as a drop of stimulants hit her bloodstream.

Just before they reached the next buoy point, the ops officer spoke up. "Sir, I have detected a faint subspace transmission. It appears to be a distress call."

"Yellow alert. Put it on speakers."

The transmission was rough and static-filled, but understandable. "This is Captain Duval of the Kobayashi Maru. We have hit a gravitic mine and sustained severe damage throughout the ship. Our main life-support system is off-line and we have numerous wounded. Repair attempts have been unsuccessful. We are in desperate need of assistance."

"Well, that name doesn't inspire confidence in our success, does it?" Rei said after a few seconds of silence. Everyone recognized it, of course; two hundred years of Academy gossip had seen to that. On other other hand, the instructors occasionally threw the name into regular simulations, presumably because they enjoyed that sort of mind game.

"T'pas, where is the transmission coming from?" Jean asked. He wasn't going to let them rattle him,

"I can not get a precise location, but direction-finding indicates it is coming from 078 mark 21," she replied.

"They'd have to be past the border, then," Jean said, having more or less expected that answer.

"Correct, sir."

"Helm, alter course to intercept, go to maximum warp. Mr. Sakharov, I need a fix on that ship."

"On it, sir." After a few minutes, Yuri replied, "I have her on long-range sensors. One ship, massing roughly sixty thousand tons, on a ballistic trajectory. They are just over two light-years inside the border."

"T'pas, do we have any information on the Kobayashi?"

"According to her registration information, she is a Terrapin-class midrange transport, registered out of Barsoom City. Captain Luis Duval commanding. There is a flight plan on file for a trip from Beta Durani to Archanis, carrying two hundred passengers and twenty crew. The ship would be considerably off-course, but not impossibly so, especially if they were flying the route used before the start of the Klingon-Cardassian conflict."

"The ship's about the right size for a Terrapin," Yuri reported. "Also the right size for a bird-of-prey or a K-14 military transport. I'm trying to refine the scans, but without an active power source to look at it's going to be difficult to confirm it one way or another."

"Bring up a star chart for this area on the main screen," Jean said. "Suzahara, time until we cross the border?"

"One minute, sir."

"And time until we reach the Kobayashi's position?"

"Fifteen minutes even if we increase to emergency warp, sir."

"At least a half hour in Klingon space, assuming we can just transport survivors aboard without any trouble... and if we heard the distress call, they should have as well," Jean said. He watched the icon representing Loknar close on the border. "Yuri, I need to know if that's really the Kobayashi and if there's any Klingon ships in range."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we just don't have the sensors to guarantee anything at this range. It could easily be a Klingon ship faking a Federation transmission, and if any ships are cloaked at sublight we wouldn't pick up any traces at this range."

"I thought so, and there's no way we could go in under stealth and maintain any kind of speed..." Jean closed his eyes. "Full stop."

"Full stop, aye," Rei said. "Why are we stopping?"

"It feels like a trap. There's probably a Klingon ship or three out there, waiting for us to cross the border. The instant we do, they'll attack us for violating their territory."

"But it could be a real ship," Yuri said.

"And if it is, there's still probably Klingons waiting to pounce. Even if we tell them we're on a rescue mission, they'll take it as implying they can't protect civilian traffic inside their own space, and attack us for the insult." Jean shook his head. "Either way, given the current tensions it could spark a war. The only way to win with them is not to play their game."

"We can't just sit here. We have to do something."

"We're not crossing that line without more information." Jean turned toward ops. "T'pas, hail the Kobayashi with a tight-beam transmission. I want to speak with their captain."

A minute passed. "No reply, sir. They are either incapable of receiving us or unable to reply, although they continue to send the distress call."

"Switch to broadcast frequencies, full power."

"Sir, if we switch to broadcast, then -"

"Any hypothetical Klingons out there would hear us. I know." Jean took a breath to steady himself. "Begin recording. This is the USS Loknar to any Klingon ship or outpost in this sector. We have detected a civilian vessel in distress at the following coordinates. We request that you render aid or give us permission to cross the border to do so. End recording, append the ship's coordinates and transmit."

"Aye, sir."

Minutes passed, each one dragging by slower than the last. The Kobayashi continued to transmit messages, no two exactly the same; someone was clearly alive on the ship, but whether they were Federation citizens or Klingons was impossible to tell. Voiceprint verification was useless, as they didn't have one on file for the civilian ship's crew.

"Contact," Yuri said suddenly. "A Klingon Vor'cha-class battlecruiser has decloaked on an intercept course for the Kobayashi Maru. They'll arrive in one minute."

"That answers that question, I suppose," Jean said. "Hail the Klingon ship."

"I say again, this is the Kobayashi Maru, to any ship within the sound of my voice. We are in desperate need of help. We can't last for much - a ship? Ah, unknown starship, you have no idea how glad we are to see you. Can you render -" The transmission abruptly cut off.

"Sir, I..." Yuri said. "Sensors have detected two explosions, consistent with a photon torpedo detonation followed by an antimatter containment breach. Klingon ship is now moving away."

"They destroyed them?" Jean said.

"Transmission from the Klingon ship, text only," T'pas said. "Message reads: "To Federation captain: we have removed the navigational hazard. Thank you for alerting us of its presence. Ktag son of Moragh, IKS Bloodfang.""

"Message to Klingon ship," Jean said, his mouth dry. "I commend your honorable actions to assist helpless wayfarers in distress. Jean Reynard, officer commanding, USS Loknar. Helm, resume original course. Warp five."

The holodeck arch appeared. Captain al-Feyed stepped through and surveyed the cadets for a few moments.

"I'm sure you're all tired and hungry, so we'll debrief tomorrow at 0830," she said. "Dismissed."

The rest of the students slowly filed out of the bridge, while Jean remained standing beside the captain's chair.

"Ask the Klingons for help and do nothing when they destroy the civilian ship," al-Feyed said once everyone else was gone. "An interesting solution to the scenario, and not a very common one. Why did you choose that course of action?"

"There was no way to cross the border without being detected. Historically, the Klingons were already shooting at starships in other sectors, and they had a tendency to fake distress calls. Our chances for conducting rescue operations and returning to Federation space would have been minimal. It was..." Jean tried to find the right words. "Damage control. Five hundred and fifty people on an Akira-class, against two hundred on a ship I wasn't even sure existed and would have been destroyed in a firefight. I thought that the Klingons would do the honorable thing and rescue the stranded ship. Apparently I miscalculated."

"You did. Klingons aren't well-known for taking prisoners."

"Not in combat, ma'am, but it does happen." After a moment, Jean added, "I do have to question the usefulness of a no-win scenario as a pedagogical and evaluative tool, especially for experienced officers back for a refresher course."

"Not everything is as straight-forward and clear as an engineering problem, Lieutenant."

"With due respect, ma'am, I got shot the last time I tried to solve an engineering problem involving Klingons."

"Save the snark for later," al-Fayed said, shaking her head. "Go have dinner, get some rest, and be ready to defend your actions to a bunch of cranky old men and women in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," Jean said. He headed for the exit, then stopped just at the door. "Captain? In your opinion, how did I do?"

"Your performance was... acceptable. Not ideal, but acceptable."

Jean supposed he could live with that.