From bullseye@earthlink.net Sun Jun 7 11:30:24 1998 Date: Sun, 12 Apr 1998 01:02:31 -0600 From: Patrick Schumacher To: "Berg, Kristine" , "Chappelle, Les" , "Denniston, Vicke" , "Denniston, Vicke 2" , "Fianges, Karen" , Gateway , "Hamilton, George" , "Hill, Janis" , "Jenkins, Jeffrey J." , "Reich, Alton 1" , "Reich, Alton 2" , "Schumacher, Patrick J." , "Thompson, Alexs" , "Trock, Jeffrey" , "Young, Josh" Subject: USS YAMATO: "Do you Hear the People Sing?" Scene: Morgan's Bridge Qualification test. MD: 1.2301 SD: 100411.2331 > > "Admiral, the station members won't last that long. Most of them will > > be dead before the THOMAS even gets close. We can be there in another > > two hours...." > > > > "NO! The admiral barked. You are to return to course to the conference > > at once." With that the channel went dead. > > > > > Morgan looked around the bridge. What he was thinking was > borderline treason. He was glad that this was just a test, and not an > actual command decesion. Not that it would have mattered. > > "Helm, lay in course for the station. Warp 9.9." > > "Sir, the engines won't last long at that power output. They > will last about ten minutes." > > "I know that dammit. These admirals just don't know what it's > like out here anymore. Hit it." > > The ship shuddered as it increased to maximum speed. Although > he would cut the travel time down drastically, it was tough on the > ship > > "Evacuate everyone to decks 1-6. As soon as you've done that, > cut all power to every deck except 1-6 and main engineering. Reroute > emergency power to the containment field. That should get us to the > station, or close enough to dispatch a runabout with the needed > supplies." > > The tac officer looked down at him. > > "We'll bounce it out at high warp and change course back to > the conference." This drew a look again, "Look, just follow my orders > ya denebian slime devil." > > "Aye sir." > > He hoped that this was the right decision. Blindly following > orders is an officers greatest assest and weakness. Not following > could be disasterous. Morgan got up and walked back to the > engineering station. > > He accessed the engineering vitals and kept a close eye on the > containment field. Hopefully it would hold out long enough to save > a few people. As the ship grew closer, Morgan prepped Dr. Mara in a runabout. Along with two med techs, they were filled with enough antidote and supplies to stem the tide of the outbreak...or at the very least, to hold the colony over until the THOMAS arrived on scene. Lisa gave herself an inoculation for the Zelilan Fever, and follwed to both of the technicians as well. As the YAMATO grew closer, they boarded, and the shuttlebay door opened. It was a high risk manouver to launch an embarked craft at such a high rate of warp, but if saucer sections had amanaged to separate under such conditions, then they could let loose a shuttle. The SANDININA rose up from the launch pad and headed out into the blackness of space. It arched parallel to the YAMATO for a few moments, then rolled away and headed for Tellimite station. The YAMATO continued onward, turning back for the conference. Morgan was sitting in the conn chair, having managed to loose the admiral's return call in an unfortunate stretch of "interferance" that prevented responding to the hail. Another few minutes and they'd be back on track to the conference. It took Morgan a few moments to notice that Alex was now standing next to him, having appeared out of "the ether," and Connor was sharing the CEO's contented grin. "Is it over already, sir?" Wolfe asked. "For all practical intents and purposes." Alex replied cryptically. "Wanna see how you did?" The XO's smile and demeanor did not change, but Morgan suddenly got the feeling that things had gone very, very wrong. "That bad, huh?" Connor shrugged, "Yes and no. Some shrink at CINCPSYCHE tailor designed this for you as a no win scenario. It was based on your personality profile. They figured you wouldn't follow orders. Thought they could get you on that. So they wrote up this thing. Mind you, I think the deck's kinda stacked." Alex spoke to the computer. "Pause scenario." And the bridge froze, except for the First Officer and the Engineering Chief. "First off, what you weren't told is that "Tellimite Station" is actually a front for a ultra-secret Federation Bio-weapons storage facility. Their outbreak of Zelalian Fever is actually a lost containment of culture 337-A, a particularly nasty strain of plague that fries the nervous system after about four hours. It's effects are untreatable, and there is no cure or inoculation. "Detmer and his group are exposed, and panicked, trying to get off the station by subterfuge. The admiral ordered you away for your own safety, having already written off the station. The project is so classified he just couldn't tell you why." Morgan looked at him blankly. Alex continued. "The THOMAS was actually being dispatched to clean up the bodies and the mess. They needed a medical ship for the detox." Morgan swallowed. Then... "The away team?" he asked. Connor pursed his lip. "Dead." he said matter-of-factly with a slight shrug of his head. "Once they arrive on the station, they find out the truth and discover they're doomed too...." Wolfe appeared to be blanching. "The program actually continues with a rather ill Lisa berating you and blaming you for their deaths. But whoever programmed it got her personality way off. It's quite pathetic, actually. I'd skip it if I were you. You'd laugh at how bad it is, instead of feel guilty like it's designed to." Morgan already felt guilty. He'd gambled. Now three of his crew were dead. Even if it were a training scenario. "Then I failed." "Not exactally." Connor smiled. "Seems they guy who typed this thing up had you all figured out to ignore orders, run to the station and start beaming the "sick" officers aboard. Of course, they're all contagous, everybody contracts the disease, everybody dies, yadda yadda yadda. "The recomended scoring is for instant failure if you arrive at the station and start beaming the infected crew aboard. You didn't do that. So I'm given a bit of leeway on the matter." Alex passed over the padd in his hand. "Congratulatons." he said. Morgan looked down at the recomended passing score. "I don't get it." Alex folded his arms across his chest. "What you were expected to do to fail, you did *not* do. You may have lost some crew members, but under the odds stacked against you, only losing three when the programmer *tried* to make you lose the whole ship, ain't too bad. Besides, command requires you to take risks from time to time. It also means downsides and drawbacks. Not everything is *winning* all the time. The main part that I saw was that you *tried* to make a difference. The fact that the scenario was set up in such a way to *discourge* that, doesn't make a difference to me. "In the real world, your actions could have made the difference in saving the lives of every crew member on that station. I'd rather reward that behavior than encourage a blind following of orders. We live in a grey world. Not one in black and white. And I think that there is a message to be learned here. You must accept that sometimes a smaller loss is preferable to a larger one." "But three people would have died. Three of my own." "I said 'accept,'" Alex replied, "I didn't say you had to like it." MD 5.0800 The turbolift door opened, and the First Officer stepped out. Captain Stern was already there, sitting in his place at the conn. A casual glance at the door caused him to stop and take a better look. The black clad figure crossed the gap towards his seat next to the Captain. He wore combat fatigues, with a phaser strapped to his right hip. An oversized PADD was strapped to his left leg at the thigh. A gear rig was laced to his back, pockets stuffed with supplies, weapons charges and who knows whatelse. Alex Connor was alert, dangerous, but his dress looked like he should be more at home in the middle of a jungle running black ops than at his current station on the bridge of a starship. "I trust that the change in dress uniform won't be a problem under the circumstances, sir." "No, XO. If we cannot raise Tablin, I want you to lead the away team down for a look. I'd suggest that we err on the side of caution. I can only hope that you are overdressed for the ocassion." "As do I sir. As do I." Alex took his place as the YAMATO dropped out of warp. Several hours later, the tedium and the growing tension was broken by the sudden explosion in Cargo Bay 1. Our heroes leapt into action to save the day. Meanwhile.... MD: 5.1020 His Majesty's Battlecruiser MOANDER, Royal Dalriadan Navy. "Sir, I am picking up a transmission on a standard Federation frequency." The tactical officer reported. Captain Dowdaedan turned, growing curious. "What kind of transmission?" he asked. "Audio only." the tactician replied. "Repeating signal. Possibly a locator beacon or distress signal." He paused. "Strange." he mused further. Dowdaedan harumphed. The officer straightened, instantly chastized. It was one thing for a Dalriadan Naval Officer to think something peculiar, it was another mater completely to idlely comment on it while standing on the bridge of Captain Dowdaedan. "Sir," the officer continued nervously, coming to attention. "At first I thought it was an automated distress signal, but it's origin is not from the Federation station, nor had it been detected before. It is highly unlikely it originated from the debris of any of the Federation ships. The interferance from the nebula prevents the sensors from making an adequate lock, nor can I clearly pinpoint or decipher the message." At that point his pannel blipped. The officer looked down at his instruments, confused. He sprang back to them, trying to re-establish the now lost signal. The captain leaned forward. "Report." he hissed. The officer looked to him. "The signal has now disapeared. I have no further reading on it." A few more punches on his terminal. "Again, Captain I cannot confirm due to interferance, but the signal appeared to be within the system....and closing. It may be an approaching Star Fleet vessel." The first officer regarded the situation. "Should we drop from n-sapce to investigate, Captain?" Dowdaedan held up a hand for silence. While the Captain contemplated, the tactical officer leaned closer to Thlovak, the XO. "What I don't understand is: *why* announce your position? Why broadcast where you come from? Whoever is comming towards us is either very stupid, or very crafty." The captain finally came to his decision. "Obviously Starfleet has sent a ship to investigate the outpost. They must be trying to contact the station with some sort of coded message. "We shall allow them to pass the nebula before we take them, our first catch of the day." Respectfully Submitted Pat Schumacher-aka Alex Connor First Officer USS YAMATO Les: It's late, but I figured I'd respond to your bridge exam. I was trying to come up with something *more* devious, but if this is deck stacking, you should have seen the other intricate ones that got away. My contribution to the fallout from the transmitter & subsequent explosion.