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<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Holodeck two, deck 10, USS Republic** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon walked through the doors into a well-furnished, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Quietly, a man came strolling into the room from the direction of the fireplace. At first, he did not pay attention to Leon, as he seemed engrossed in a quaint, leather-bound. The individual wasn't very tall, and in fact, was about the same height as Leon. Although he was wide around the waist, he wasn't stout, and carried his extra weight well. With a mop of curly brown and gray hair, his face was clean-shaven, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | With pursed lips, the officer closed his book, and seemed slightly annoyed at Leon's arrival. Yet, he also acted as if the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "One thing I like about the way he programmed my apartment is the randomness of the liquor cabinet," | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor accepted. Sniffing the glass before sipping, the aroma was rich and distilled, and although it had a slightly bitter overtone (Leon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Not bad for a computer," | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the two stood in the center of the posh den, Leon couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "James T. Kirk," the hologram replied expectantly. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon squinted at the hologram with both puzzlement and surprise. THIS was Kirk? The legend of the alpha quadrant? The most prominent of starship commanders that had been so idolized in every Starfleet historical text? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Recognizing Leon's confused expression, the captain pursed his lips again, not in annoyance this time, but more with resignation to the obvious. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk huffed with irony. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Not a clue." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Over forty-five thousand," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a sip from his drink, Kirk casually began walking towards the two empty chairs by the fireplace. "Well, go ahead. Ask." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Ask what?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What every cadet that John Carter sends here asks, of course," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't understand," | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Um, yes." The doctor paused with slight embarrassment, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And you've just completed your fifth try, which ended in failure?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Why do you ask?" he replied to the question, nervously taking a sip from his cup. In fact, he had not run the Kobyashi Maru more than three times since John had given it to him, each session ending in a catastrophic explosion. With frustration, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon froze at the statement. He suddenly realized why John was so angry with him. Up until their discussion in the corridor a few minutes ago, it was John's impression that Leon had already encountered the Jim Kirk program via the Kobyashi Maru. The fact that the holographic Kirk thought the same thing led Leon to realize that John had suspected this shortfall, and may have been the reason he gave him a second chance at the bridge officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon swallowed a sip of brandy very slowly, hoping to draw attention away from his shortfall about the Kobyashi Maru, and choosing to answer Kirk with information that John Carter had already offered him. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk's look of annoyance returned, and he almost looked insulted for a moment. "As the senior officer here, I believe that's *my* line," he scolded. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon clearly looked much more uncomfortable at his response. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk ignored it. "Do you know why Carter programmed me?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "For entertainment purposes, I assume." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon suddenly realized why John was so ready to accept Shannon as a real person: His academy mentor was a hologram. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "After the academy, he took my program with him to every posting and ship that had a holodeck. Every time he needed someone to bounce ideas off of, or mull over difficult decisions, he'd be in here. Some assignments had him consulting me almost every night. Especially after being aboard the Devonshire . . . did he ever talk to you about the Devonshire?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon shook his head. "There are lots of things about his life that John Carter doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Again, Leon felt embarrassed by the realization that he failed to follow John's advice and run the Kobyashi Maru as often as he could. "When was the last time you saw him?" he chose to change the subject. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Who? Carter?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk waved his hand. "Never mind that," he dismissed. "Ask Carter if you're so interested about that. What we need to be discussing at the moment is how you did on the Kobyashi Maru." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon sulkily leaned back into his chair. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I realize that you must not be too happy with your performance, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And why is that?" Leon mumbled, more detached than ever. Listening to the rambling thoughts of an old man - even a legendary one - wasn't his idea of a fun or interesting time in the holodeck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "So then, why are you still here?" Kirk finally asked. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Seems I've had this conversation before," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You could say that," the doctor replied, still looking rather uncomfortable to admit his shortcomings. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And you're not happy with your performance?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And why not?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon was taken slightly by surprise. "Why do you think?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Kirk looked towards Leon with a blank stare. If he was displeased at the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Now you see my problem." | ||
+ | |||
+ | At that, Kirk looked back at him with the same blank stare, hiding whatever emotion he had behind his renowned poker face. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course I do!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No, I don't think you do," Kirk returned to watching the lit fireplace. "The doctors that I knew wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Are you saying I'm too insubordinate to command a starship?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What I'm saying," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "How does that affect whether or not a doctor can command a starship?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't understand." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If a doctor spends most of their time thinking about only the crew, then they lose touch with what's happening outside the ship." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Or with it," Leon whispered in thought, the gears beginning to turn in his head. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well, that's easy for the immortal Captain Kirk," Leon exclaimed. "Your entire career was about how you escaped from the jaws of death, and turned situations around to give them a more favorable outcome." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "What do you mean?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Most of the time it wasn't *me* making the sacrifice," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Although Kirk hadn't realized it, Leon had stopped drinking. His half-empty glass was sitting in his folded hands as he stared into the fire, hanging on every word that Kirk spoke. Leon finally found the magic and appeal of this particular holographic program, and why Nat found it so important for him to run it. With a look of comprehension on his face, the doctor abruptly set his glass down on the table next to him, and got up from the chair. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Was it something I said?" Kirk asked with surprise, glancing towards Leon as he marched towards the door. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Glad I could do something for you," the hologram replied, turning back towards the fireplace before adding one last sentence over his shoulder. "Do me a favor and tell Carter to stop by more than once a year, will you?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No problem," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Just doing my job," Kirk replied nonchalantly as he leaned over to reclaim his leather-bound book from the coffee table. | ||
---- | ---- | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | **Location: Somewhere in the Delta Quadrant** | ||
+ | |||
+ | Fierce wind whipped across the rocky plains of the primitive looking settlement as a cloaked figure glanced into a fiercely burning binary sky. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hidden from view, the figure rapped twice quickly, then once again after a longer pause. After a moment, the rock face he was pressed against pushed in and then slid away with a heavy, low, grind. Stepping quickly into the revealed opening, the cloaked stranger wound his way down a spiraling path deep into the bedrock of the planet. The flickering light of torches lit his way, but the figure slowed his pace, still firmly aware that he could still slip and break his neck. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Stepping gingerly down the path, he wound his way to the bottom, where a cavern opened up. As he stepped in, he bowed his head, six other assembled figures turned with surprise to look at him. Each of the beings in the cave were humanoid, save for the large pupil-less eyes, and the ranges of blue skin that were now visible in the dim light. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Three males and three females were already present; each wearing little more than silken wraps serving as loin clothes. The females wore similar coverings on their chests, though, considering the diaphanous nature of the fabric, these additional coverings were clearly ceremonial. Small pieces of metal and polished stones also served as ornaments and symbols of station; worn both on the body and worked into the hair, which all assembled persons tended to wear long. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Like other natives of desert worlds, the blue-skinned inhabitants of this planet also had ears that crested into graceful points, lending a truly alien appearance to their otherwise familiar builds. | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the head of the cavern, an older male looked across the assembled crowd. "Now that we're all here..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The older speaker turned his attention to a large, covered object behind him that was draped in the darkness of the cave. "Our faith in the Mother and Father who watch over our world has finally been rewarded. I have devised a means to communicate DIRECTLY with our gods, and, using the finest science my and many other brains could muster, I am confident that our deliverance is at had." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Zharon fumed, his eyes blazing. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I know that the last attempts were...less than ideal," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Like your Alpha and Beta projects, and all the rest?" The armed woman remained unconvinced. "Throw the switch then, if you're so sure!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Zharon did so, and in the half second of perfect silence, he waited, relieved when the cave was soon filled with the cacophonous noise of whirring machinery and building energy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Amid the clatter, the gathered beings stepped back as the machine began to glow. Then, with far less fanfare than it had started, the contraption stopped and seemed lifeless. For long moments, Zharon regarded the machine. Finally, after checking, tightening and tapping all manner of things, he simply let his shoulders drop. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No, Zharon," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Before Zharon could respond there was a frightful shriek and the sound of scraping stone. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ---- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | **Location: Crew quarters, USS Apex** | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | // | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Hello Leon. I hope everything is going well in your thorax of the woods. S.C.A.R. is making great strides in identifying and cataloging nanoscopic sub-spacial tears. Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I don't believe you ever met my number three guy on the Defiant II, Rick Leonetti. The best field weapons engineer with which I've had the pleasure to work. He once theorized a warp capable probe, similar to a quantum torpedo, that's only function was to catalyze a catastrophic subspace breach within maneuvering range of an enemy. Given the right location and proper timing, the probe would be an elegant and effective weapon against the Romulans." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thus I find myself once again distrusting my orders and wondering if I am yet again designing weapons of war instead of quietly tending to my required research." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Victor looked around the tiny room and his eyes fixed on a small bronze and black colored old-timey photograph of himself, Leon, Victor and Shannon, dressed in the style of the western herd drovers of the late 19th century. The costumes were outlandish and gaudy, Shannon' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If you have some time, shoot me a message. Our survey will be done in about a month, and then a short 126 hours until we get back to Spacedock. Any idea where you folks will be going next?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Have a good day Leon. Tell John I said hello." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "End recording" | ||
---- | ---- | ||
< | < | ||
<fs x-large> | <fs x-large> | ||
+ | Leon's return to the holodeck the morning after his conversation with Captain Kirk was nearly identical to his first encounter with the bridge officer' | ||
+ | |||
+ | This time, however, the doctor did not run down the usual list of remedies. He knew all the dead-end options now, and to try to go over them again with minor tweaks would be wasting time. There was only one way to face this crisis, and it wasn't with the humane diagnostic dogma of a trained physician. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Lieutenant Commander Victor Virtus was a smart man. Although the officers around the table didn't pick up on the inquiry right away, Vic did. And he had already extrapolated it to its logical conclusion. With no more than a blink, he answered the question stoically. "About six hours." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Is that enough to deploy that solar sail we talked about?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If everyone pitched in . . . yes. But, it would be tight." | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The clock was ticking, and Leon knew it. How the next few moments unfolded would decide whether he passed or failed the bridge officers exam. Taking to heart Kirk's lessons from last night, he chose to take a risk and set a new course to try and resolve the situation. Only this time, he had to learn how to throw his medical training out the window, and force himself to perform tasks completely contrary to who he was as a person. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reaching for the ship-wide intercom, the electronic boatswain whistle sounded throughout the smashed vessel, beckoning the attention of anyone still left alive onboard. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | He paused momentarily, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I understand that what I am about to say will disturb many people, but I am asking . . . I'm pleading . . . for volunteers, both healthy and injured, to . . ." he paused for a second, bracing at the words as they came forth from his lips. ". . . sacrifice their lives in order to preserve life support power. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Disbelief welled in the eyes of the holographic senior officers around him. A few dropped their jaws, and all but Chief Rainier showed signs of controlled panic as Leon continued his announcement. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | He looked around the table at the shocked faces of his officers. He returned a stoic glance to each of them, offering the merest glimmer of regret in his eyes before noticing the chronometer on the panel screen in front of him. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We have very little time left," Leon continued. "So I ask those willing to report to holodeck six in the next three minutes. On arrival, you have one minute to write a last message to loved ones. Captain out." | ||
+ | |||
+ | No one spoke. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Minutes ticked by in silence as the holographic officers struggled with the realization that Doctor Cromwell had just asked members of the crew to submit to medically assisted suicide. For his part, Leon knew it was only a simulation, but the guilt and stress behind his decision was real. As the clock approached the three-minute mark, he turned to the ship's COB. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye aye, sir," the chief complied, and began typing commands into a nearby computer console. With a glazed expression, the holographic representation of Victor Virtus slowly stood up from his chair and walked out the door to commence expedited sail-building activities. Vic was gone for no more than 30 seconds when Nat Hawk began to stir, standing up from the table with a wild-eyed expression that caused Doctor Cromwell concern. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Ya wanted volunteers, din' | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Yer crazy!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The alert seemed to bring the holographic Hawk back to his senses. He locked stares with Leon momentarily before relaxing his eyes, then swallowed coarsely while reluctantly nodding his head. As he turned to face the door, Nat peered over his shoulder one last time as if he had something more to say, but words seemed to fail the helmsman, and his eyes dropped to the floor before exiting the ready room. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Hawk left, Leon turned back to Brad Rainier. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Two hundred and sixty two," the senior noncom reported. "Still not enough." | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Strangely, Starfleet had contingency plans for exactly the kind of situation that the doctor was currently enduring. Attrition procedures in LOD (life or death) emergencies dictated volunteers first, then non-essential Starfleet personnel beginning with the lowest rank. This was the only instance where, in the military-style rank-and-file system of Starfleet, that a lieutenant commander could be considered less important than a crewman first-class, | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "No . . ." she whispered incredulously. "You can't . . ." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We have to." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I won't participate!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I understand," | ||
+ | |||
+ | Shannon stood up and shuffled backwards a few steps while turning a pair of fiery eyes towards Leon with an angry mix of horror and revulsion. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As medical officer, I can relieve YOU!" she screamed defiantly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "To do so, you would need grounds that I am medically unfit to command," | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You won't get away with this!" the Shannon facsimile seethed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I repeat: You are relived, doctor." | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an expression that ripped through his soul, Leon witnessed what could have been described only as emotional evisceration emanating from Shannon. As she stormed out of the ready room, her penetrating scowl driving home the point that the only feelings she had left for Leon was burning hate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A quiet pause ensued after the doors slid shut. Leon scanned the small ready room, and realized that only himself and Chief Rainier were left. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Aye, sir," Brad Rainier agreed as he somberly stood up and excused himself from the room. As the most militarized man on the bridge crew, Leon knew that the Chief of the Boat was the one soul he could count on to follow his orders to the letter. That was the design of Starfleet' | ||
+ | |||
+ | A minute went by. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Two minutes went by. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon stared at the internal sensor feed as it indicated exactly three hundred and twelve souls gathered in holodeck six. Reviewing the roster, his heart sank as the bio-readouts from their combadges displayed their names on Leon's screen. He knew all of them. Every one of them was a soul he had, at one time or another, worked with onboard the ship. Depach Narundi . . . Hayden Kroeger . . . Christopher Teague. Tears welled in Leon's eyes as he saw Susan Hayworth' | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was no time left. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Using the computer console, Leon charged the Anesthizine gas cylinders in the holodeck walls to 200 parts per million. It was nearly three times the concentration to put humans into a deep sleep, and in doing so, would cause a calming, euphoric effect in it's victims. He felt it was humane enough to ensure a comatose slumber before the next phase. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor pushed a few more buttons to release Neurozine gas into the holodeck. It was a convenient way to anesthetize Romulans, but for other humanoids, it induced a neuromuscular transmission blockage causing every muscle in the body to relax and fall limp . . . every single muscle. That included the lungs, it included the heart. | ||
+ | |||
+ | //" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon's finger hovered over the blinking red button that read " | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Turn death into a fighting chance to live." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon now knew what those words meant. His finger fell upon the console, and the blinking red light turned to a solid green. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The deed was done. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The program ended, and the empty battle-bridge ready room shimmered with an effervescent light before fading away into non-existence. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon said nothing. He simply sat there, staring into space, unable to find absolution. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Look, I know this was hard on you, but you did it. When the time came to stop thinking like a doctor, you did it." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Go to hell," Leon whispered without looking at his friend. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I suppose I deserved that," John replied, his anger regarding the incomplete Kobyashi Maru test melting away. " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon remained silent, acting like John wasn't even present. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You know," John added. "There *is* a reason I didn't program the counselor into the bridge test." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The doctor finally looked John in the eye, but still said nothing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | " | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon's silence persisted. In light of that, John felt there wasn't much left to say. He knew deep inside that they both would eventually get over what happened here today, whether it be at the poker table, over drinks at the Hill, or perusing the promenade on Deep Space Nine. It was only a matter of time. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking the doctor' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Leon stayed seated on the empty holodeck for over 30 minutes, his chair the only remnant left of the holographic program that brought him to his moral breaking point. He sat staring into space, with the same blank 1000-mile stare he had on his face when Nat Hawk had died on his operating table a week ago. | ||