"Simplicity" Part 1

As Captain Blanchard takes over command of her ship, she is faced with more than a little resistance, as well as a few problems she hadn't anticipated. How does she handle her problems? Continue reading, and meet the rest of her crew as you discover the answer.

Doctor Linda Castle sat in her office and read the report in front of her for the third time. She was exhausted, having had a long and trying day. There had been a greater number of injuries than usual aboard the McAuliffe, as a result of hand-to-hand battle drills that were being conducted by the first officer of the ship. Oh, none of them had been severe, but the doctor had lost count of the people who had come into Sickbay, limping or protecting some body part.

“You sent for me, Doc?” Commander Rocky Jordan, the McAuliffe’s executive officer, was standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest in an attitude of defiance.

“Yes,” Castle answered, irritation showing in her voice. “Tell me, do you plan to send everyone on the ship through Sickbay today, or just the ones who don’t live up to your expectations on the target range?”

The first officer countered, “The captain gave me orders to get the crew ready for the battle exercises on Rivella IV, and I intend to do just that. I can’t help it if this ship’s previous CO let people get a little soft.”

The doctor bridled at the none-too-subtle criticism of the McAuliffe’s former captain, Stewart Livingston. A wise man with years of Starfleet experience, Livingston had preferred to seek a diplomatic solution to problems, resorting to more violent means only when absolutely necessary. However, when the need arose, he was an extremely skillful leader in battle. A few months ago, he had retired and a new captain and executive officer had come aboard.

While a good many of the crew were adjusting well to the change in command, others were having somewhat more difficulty. Captain Adele Blanchard had served for four years as first officer on the Exeter, an Ambassador-class vessel. However, some felt that she was too young and inexperienced to be in charge of the larger, Galaxy-class McAuliffe. In Castle’s opinion, she was far too eager to make a good showing of herself, to prove that she was worthy of the task given her.

And then there was Rocky Jordan. She was extremely loyal to her captain, almost to a fault. Having served for a number of years as a security guard, she had a rather aggressive nature. She was not afraid to voice her opinions, even if they differed from everyone else. Castle thought, it was almost as bad as having a Klingon on board. In fact, Jordan had been heard to curse in fluent Klingon, and her language was often peppered with idioms from that language.

“Don’t even try to find fault with the way Captain Livingston ran this ship,” the doctor said, making little effort to curb her temper. “In the five years that he was skipper of the McAuliffe, I don’t think he lost more than a handful of crewmembers. And in almost fifty years of service, he earned more citations for valor than you’ll ever see in your career. She stood up and came around her desk to stand in front of Jordan.

The commander smiled, relishing the thought of baiting Castle into an argument. She was interrupted, however, by the intercom. “Commander Jordan, report to the bridge,” came the captain’s voice.

“Aye, sir,” she replied. Before leaving, however, the first officer stepped even closer to Castle. Her voice became ominously quiet, as she uttered one of her Klingon aphorisms, “If you are afraid to die, you have already died.” With that, she spun around.

In her haste to leave the doctor’s office, the first officer almost knocked down Lt. Henry Gaynor. The ship’s counselor had unfortunately chosen just that moment to visit his friend and colleague in Sickbay. Gaynor stepped away from the bulkhead, where he had quickly moved in order to avoid being trampled. Putting his hand up in mock surrender, and then straightening his uniform, he exclaimed, “Whew! What just happened here?”

Castle moved around her desk and sat down, frowning. “Oh, I told our erstwhile second-in-command that I thought she was pushing the crew too hard. That’s when the tornado struck. I swear, Henry, that woman is going to hurt someone one of these days, and guess who will have to pick up the pieces?”

Gaynor shook his head sympathetically and took the seat opposite the doctor. “I think we just need to give Commander Jordan a little time. After all, she’s as unfamiliar with us as we are with her.”

The doctor retorted, “She can take all the time she wants, just so she does it as far away from me as possible.” With that, she changed the subject to one more pleasant.

=/\=

In the interest of fostering relations with other worlds, the McAuliffe had been ordered to conduct battle drills with ships from two planets that were both relatively new to the Federation. This would be the first time that Captain Blanchard had led her crew into a pitched battle. Even if it was just a training exercise, she was anxious to make a good showing. However, there was also an unspoken understanding that this was to be as much a test of Blanchard’s diplomatic talents as how well her crew could stand up under simulated combat, inasmuch in that her “opponents” could become very real enemies if not treated properly.

When the McAuliffe arrived at the site selected for the mock battle, she called Commander Jordan and Chief of Security Ghegau (“Cherokee” to her closest friends) to her ready room. “The Threllians and Yrini will be arriving within a few hours. Is everything ready?”

Jordan considered her answer carefully. “As much as possible, given what I have to work with. Sir, with your permission, we would like to take a reconnaissance team down to the surface. It would be a definite tactical advantage to be more familiar with the lay of the land.”

“Good idea, Number One,” Blanchard agreed. “However, do it quickly. Our adversaries will be here shortly. We don’t want them to catch us unawares.”

=/\=

Jordan and Cherokee transported to the planet surface, along with three security guards. The team found themselves in a large meadow, surrounded on three sides by areas of virgin timber. On the fourth side was a swiftly flowing river, full of rocks and rapids. No sign of sentient life forms – animal, vegetable, or mineral – were visible.

The first officer and security chief conferred for a moment. Then Cherokee indicated that the team members should go off in different directions and survey the area. One of the guards, Ensign Aaron Davies, approached the wooded area to the north.

As the ensign entered the woods, a brightly colored bird, similar to a Terran parrot, squawked angrily and flew away. As he watched the bird on its flight, he could see a small mammal of some sort climb up a tree. Davies smiled to himself, thinking that it would be fun to explore this planet in depth later. For now, though, there was no time for pleasure.

The guard carefully made his way through the underbrush, taking care not to trample the delicate plants. He had gone some distance into the forest when he stopped suddenly. There, partway up a tree, perched an animal like the one he had seen earlier. Its appearance was similar to that of the squirrels that lived near his boyhood home on Earth. However, this animal had no tail and sported long, brownish-yellow fur.

The animal did not seem overly alarmed by the sudden appearance of the human. Its ears swiveled forward, and it uttered a series of short, sharp squeaks.

Davies said, “Well, hello there, little fellow.” Ignoring everything he had been taught at the Academy, let alone common sense, the man extended a finger toward the creature.

Suddenly, the guard pulled back his finger and swore loudly. Looking at his finger, he saw a small puncture wound where the animal had bitten him. The creature in question ran quickly down the tree and off into the forest as Davies sucked his finger and blamed himself for his incaution.

After exploring the area for several more minutes, Ensign Davies returned to the beam-in site to join the rest of the team. He reported that, apart from a few small animals, he had seen nothing remarkable. The guard was careful to conceal his wound from the superior officers, certain that he would be reprimanded if found out.

=/\=

Upon returning to the ship, the first officer reported to Captain Blanchard on the bridge. The captain spoke first, “We have received a message that the Threllians’ ship will be delayed for at least ten hours. Their impulse engines are malfunctioning.”

Commander Jordan said, “Good. That will give the crew more time for phaser drill.”

The captain smiled. “While you were down on the planet’s surface, I had a little talk with Dr. Castle about your drills. She seems to feel that you’ve been pushing the crew too hard.”

“If I’ve been pushing the crew, it’s only because I want the McAuliffe to look good when she goes up against those other ships.” Jordan spoke somewhat defensively.

“I know you do,” Blanchard agreed. “However, I’m sure that everyone is as ready as you can make them. Why not enjoy yourself for a while. I personally plan to spend some time in the holodeck while I wait for our opponents to arrive.”

The first officer looked unhappy, but did not disagree with her captain. Instead, she gave a thorough report of everything that had been observed on the planet surface. Then followed an in-depth discussion of “battle” strategy, relished equally by both women.

=/\=

Captain Adele Blanchard was enjoying herself immensely. The affairs of running a large and busy starship had kept her out of the holodeck for some time. Now she was indulging in one of her favorite programs. She was mounted on a tall, rangy stallion, almost pure white. Together, horse and rider were cantering through the countryside in Blanchard’s native New England. As they came to various fences, logs, and other obstacles, the big animal soared gracefully over them, landing gently on the other side before continuing on as before.

The countryside was filled with a myriad of sights, sounds, and even smells. There was an abundance of wildlife, birds, insects, and the occasional rabbit or fox. Adele could even hear the sound of cattle in the distance. As she sped along, the woman was aware of a rainbow of colors from wildflowers along the path. There was a peculiar smell in the air, as if there had recently been a spring shower.

The captain had been introduced to horseback riding by an old friend soon after graduating from the Academy. She relished the excitement of working in concert with such a large and unpredictable animal. The concentration required for such an exercise forced her to forget for a time the demands and pressures of being a starship captain. There was also a wonderful feeling of the breeze on her face and in her hair that was a pleasant contrast to the artificial and seemingly stale environment of a starship.

Horse and rider cantered up a gentle rise leading to a low rail fence. Suddenly, the animal skidded to a stop and reared up on its hind legs in surprise. There, standing just under its sharp and potentially dangerous front hooves, stood Ensign Proto. Thinking quickly, Blanchard pulled the frightened animal to a standstill and tried to calm it with her hands and voice.

“Mister Proto, what are you doing?” the captain asked, sounding more than a little perturbed.

Proto looked at the excited horse with interest, as if studying a laboratory specimen. “Captain, an inquiry – why are you going to the trouble of making that horse jump over a fence, when you can so easily walk up and open the gate?”

The ensign, still very new to Starfleet, had been on the McAuliffe only slightly longer than Blanchard had. His name, Proto, was short for Prototypical Holographic Crew-member, and he was the result of a recent experiment to design a temporary substitute for various crew-beings around the ship as needed. He was the brainchild of one Lt. Simon Johanssen, who stubbornly persisted in his assertion that his work had merit. This was in spite of the many glitches that cropped up from time to time in Proto’s programming.

One of these many glitches was that Proto seemed to have a dreadful lack of understanding of the beings he was being designed to serve with, and to replace when needed. Blanchard privately thought that this might be at least partially due to the fact that Lt. Johanssen was as socially inept as anyone she had ever met. There was a time when he would have been given the epithet of “Nerd.” Now, most of the McAuliffe’s crew merely avoided him when off-duty.

The captain unconsciously looked around her, in an effort to locate the erstwhile Lt. Johanssen. Since Proto was a hologram, he could not exist without an emitter in the immediate vicinity. Therefore, his creator could usually be seen hovering in the background when he was around, PADD in hand. Then she laughed shortly as she realized that Johanssen’s presence would be unnecessary in the holodeck. It did mean, however, that someone had tampered with the program to allow for Proto’s insertion into it. And that knowledge made Blanchard more than a little unhappy.

The woman gave an exasperated sigh, trying hard to conceal her irritation. “Ensign, I am participating in a sporting activity. The enjoyment comes, not in getting from one place to another, but from getting this truly magnificent animal to do what I want him to do.”

“Ah,” came the response, “so your purpose is one of coercing an inferior species to meet your demands?” The PHC acted as if he was conducting an academic discussion.

“No, not at all,” the captain argued. She really didn’t want to go into this, but didn’t see any easy way around it, short of ordering Proto off the holodeck. “The horse lacks the intelligence to communicate in the way that you and I do. Therefore, I must use a combination of my hands, my legs, and my voice to convey my wishes. There is also an element of trust involved, for it is wholly unnatural for an animal such as this to carry someone on its back. And, I must confess, I have an aesthetic appreciation of such a fine animal.”

Proto cocked his head curiously. “Then, the pleasure comes from accomplishing a task which you are not sure you will be able to complete. I have noticed that this is a common principle with many leisure activities pursued by humanoid species.”

Blanchard suppressed a laugh. She dismounted from the horse and held its bridle. “It goes a little deeper than that. However, I really don’t have the time to get into an intellectual discussion right now. If you will excuse me, I must return to the bridge.”

Appearing to speak to no one in particular, the captain said, “Exit.” Suddenly, a door opened in the middle of the woods. She stepped out into the corridor, returning to the real world. “Discontinue program and store in memory,” she ordered the computer, giving a sigh of relief upon noting that the PHC did not follow. She took a moment to glare at Simon Johanssen, standing to one side of the door, and was gratified to see the man look down and quickly turn to walk the other way.

=/\=

A few hours later, Dr. Castle was in SickBay when Aaron Davies came in. His face was definitely flushed, and he was sweating profusely. The doctor led him to a bed, and as he sat down said, “You look like something the cat dragged in.” She took out her tricorder, and ran it over the lieutenant’s body.

“I don’t feel so good,” agreed Davies, smiling sheepishly.

Castle frowned as she examined the scanner’s readings. “Hmmm. Body temperature is 39.4 and rising. Leukocyte count is highly elevated as well.”

Laying down the scanner, the doctor began to use an instrument she put somewhat more faith in – her own eyes. She gave the man a good going-over, looking for any signs that might lead to a diagnosis. Before long, she came to a small puncture wound on her patient’s right index finger. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Oh, I nicked myself in my quarters earlier,” Davies lied. “I didn’t think it was serious enough to bother with.”

“Well, as long as you’re here, I might as well take care of it,” Castle smiled, reaching for the autosuture. She then resumed her examination. “I think we’d better put you in the isolation unit until I can determine what’s going on.”

“Do you have to?” the lieutenant asked, somewhat peevishly. “I was looking forward to participating in the battle exercises on the planet.”

“Well, with any luck, you’ll still be able to go and shoot up the bad guys. In the meantime, I’ll let Lieutenant Ghegau know where you are.” The doctor smiled and returned to her office, stopping to give some instructions to one of the nurses.

=/\=

Some time later, Captain Blanchard was on the bridge, looking over the shoulder of the ensign seated at the science station. She looked up when Dr. Castle’s voice came over the intercom, “Captain, may I see you down here for a moment?”

“On my way,” the captain responded, and left the bridge.

Blanchard breezed into the doctor’s office, obviously in a hurry. “I hope this is important, Doctor. The Yrini ship just arrived a few moments ago, and the Threllians are due within the hour.

Castle looked up from the computer monitor on her desk, trying to conceal her annoyance. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your preparations, Captain. But I thought you ought to know about this.”

The doctor stood up and led the way out into the primary care area. There, several of the beds were occupied by crewmembers, either seated or in a prone position. “In the last couple of hours, there have been five cases of unexplained high fever, accompanied by severe muscular pain.”

“So it seems we have a few cases of the flu on board,” Blanchard commented, with some irritation. “Why can’t you just treat those affected and let them resume their duties?”

“The symptoms don’t match anything I’ve ever seen before,” Castle continued. “I’m searching Starfleet Medical’s data base for more information. However, until I know exactly what we’re dealing with, all of the affected crewmembers are going to be placed in the isolation ward.”

“Just how many are we talking about here?” the captain asked.

“Davies and Bristow from Security, Abel and Jacobs from Engineering, and Lieutenant Courtney’s daughter Patty,” Castle replied. “Davies was the first case.”

“Very well, Doctor,” Blanchard stated. “I hope this won’t interfere with our exercises on the planet surface.”

The doctor finally gave in to her exasperation. “There are over a thousand people on this ship for you to use in your little games. Captain, I don’t think five less will hurt your fun any.”

The captain thought about responding in kind, but decided not to bother. “Then I place the matter in your capable hands. Keep me informed.” With that, she turned on her heels and left the Sickbay.

So, how will the McAuliffe fare in her battle exercises? And what will become of Ensign Davies? Come back next week to read Part 2 of "Simplicity."