Command Training - The Duck Blind

Posted on Thu Aug 6th, 2015 @ 2:39pm by Lieutenant Commander Ciaran McIntyre & Lieutenant Commander Horatio Hawke

Episode: Lost Property
Location: Planet AR-438, Surface
Timeline: Early 2394

Lieutenant Commander Ciaran McIntyre pulled at the tight nape of the suit's neck as he watched her. It had been days, but had felt like weeks, since he first saw her fetching water from the well near her little farm house and he had become fascinated by her.

It was the way in which she conducted herself, when faced with the lord of the manor, which appealed to him. The lord, an over-bearing, crimson-faced boor of a man used his position in the local aristocracy to ride rough-shod over the local women. He took great delight in exposing some little known rule which allowed him to pick and choose which women in the village - and on his estate - would go with him to his palatial home.

Mac shuddered at the thought of what went on there. He had been on the duck blind for a few days and already the wiry, flame-haired butler had come down from the huge house on the hill to take back a veritable harem of women to satiate the lord's appetite.

Of all the bloody planets. Mac thought as he trudged back toward the duck blind.

She hauled the bucket up out of the well, resting it on the edge for a moment. She wiped her brow, then leaned down to sniff the water. The well was good and had continued to provide good water for as long as she could remember, but she always checked. If some rodent died in the night and chose the bottom of her well as its final resting place, the household's water would be tainted.

Satisfied that it was clean, she stood and expertly lifted the bucket, not spilling a single drop. She had taken only a few steps when she stopped in her tracks. The hair on the back her neck tingled and she had the unmistakable feeling that she was being watched. She stood still and listened, waiting to hear footsteps or some other sign that she wasn't alone.

Mac had stopped just up the path, his eyes fixed on the lank red hair of the butler, his enormous hands suspended at the ends of his arms like crane hooks. There could be no doubt about his destination, the little farm was the only thing - apart from the duck blind - which was on the road. The butler passed within a few inches of him, he felt the air displace across the suit and let out a thankful sigh.

Any closer and the whole thing would have been blown.

She sensed him rather than saw him. That unmistakable aroma, like a week old cut of meat spiced to pass for edible, drifted toward her on the breeze. He would be approaching from behind her, so she daren't look back. Instead, she lifted the bucket a little higher and kept up her journey back to the house. The water sloshed around in the bucket, splashing her dress as she got closer and closer to the door. She prepared herself mentally; she needed to be strong.

The butler smiled widely, a sickening, broad grin which turned his stomach to see it. Mac could feel his blood boiling but the words echoed in his head. The words of every captain, every admiral, every bloody sanctimonious officer he had ever met: Prime Directive. He could see in his mind's eye, every captain he had ever had standing around him, shaking their heads as he smashed the butler's teeth in and drowned every little bit of breath out of him in the fresh water of the well.

He took the deepest breath he possibly could and kept walking, trying his best not to look back. He repeated the words in his head. Prime Directive, Prime Directive, Prime Directive.

He was getting closer now; she could hear the rapid footfalls behind her. She reached the door and placed the bucket on the step just outside. They'll find it here, she assured herself.

With the bucket on the step, she stood up straight, holding her head high with her back still to the approaching tormentor. She breathed deep, summoning the strength she knew she possessed. He will not break me, she said to herself, not meaning the putrid servant now mere metres behind her.

One last deep breath, feeling the stench of the wretch approaching, and she turned to face him. As she turned, she found herself hoping, pleading for some divine intervention that would save her. But she knew the gods had forsaken her and the others in this land. Surely they would have helped her, helped the others, if they were truly there.

Suddenly, just as the butler opened his mouth to speak, an almighty chirrup erupted from the edge of the well and a voice boomed out. "You will cease these practices!" The voice was violent, speaking in a tongue which neither of them fully understood, some of the words were similar to their own but together seemed to make no sense.

The butler crumbled in fear. The godless man had heard the voice of god.

Terror flushed through her veins and she instinctively dropped to the ground, bracing herself against the door. The noise! The horrible, booming voice! A language she didn't know, but at the same time instinctively knew it's anger wasn't directed at her.

The wretched butler was terrified beyond measure and regained his composure just enough to scramble away, leaving the woman to the mercy of whatever demon now haunted her farm.

She looked back to the well, silence there. No movement. No sound. There was nothing there. Slowly, she lifted herself up, her heart thumping and adrenaline burning her veins. Her feet were wet and she realised she had knocked over the bucket. She would have to go back to the well.

Mac stood off to the side and watched as she gathered her composure. He didn't know what it was that had made him do it. He had heard the stories, read the reports about their gods - their gods which had told them these practices were acceptable. Thankfully they had always been interfering gods.

He lifted his combadge from beside the well and reattached it, allowing it to fade back into the influence of the cloaked suit.

The world around him shimmered and vanished, replaced by the harsh metallic reality of the inside of a holodeck.

"You couldn't resist, could you Mac," Lieutenant Commander Horatio Hawke said with a sly grin. He couldn't hide that he was quite pleased with what Mac had done.

"All without breaking the Prime Directive, Commander." McIntyre shot back, mirroring the First Officer's smile. He and Captain Williams had probably spent days coming up with a scenario which would break him - they had almost managed it.

Hawke chuckled and shook his head, "I should have made them atheist," he said. "You're correct, of course. Prime Directive applies, and some lawyer might try to argue that you broke it, but you did nothing to interfere in their society. Your solution fit in with their beliefs. What did you think of how you went?"

"As a whole, I thought it went quite well." Mac began before rethinking his stance slightly. "I should probably have had the good sense to walk away."

The first officer shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not," he said. "This test was designed to put you into a situation where you would find following the Prime Directive exceedingly difficult. A lot of people might have decided to just knock that guy out and deal with the consequences. But you stayed within the rule, didn't violate the Prime Directive, and found a solution to save a woman from a terrible fate."

He paused and smiled. "You have to think fast, and you did. Congratulations, Lieutenant. You've passed."

McIntyre smiled. One down. "Thank you, sir."