"Simplicity" Part 2

In Part 1 of our story, we saw Captain Adele Blanchard, newly in command of the McAuliffe, preparing for battle exercises, while also dealing with the doubts of some of her crew in her ability to command. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, some of her crew have come down with a mysterious illness that so far seems to be stumping the best efforts of the CMO. How will this situation resolve itself? Read Part 2 of “Simplicity,” and find out.

The captains of the Yrini and the Threllian ships beamed over to the McAuliffe for a conference prior to the commencement of “hostilities.” Commander Jordan escorted them to Blanchard’s ready room. The McAuliffe’s captain stood up and said, by way of greeting, “Gentlemen.” She stepped around her desk and extended her hand.

The Yrini captain, M’huo’t, smiled broadly. “Captain Blanchard, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He was a tall, sparely-built humanoid with curly red hair over a deeply ridged and mottled brow, with ear lobes pulled to an exaggerated length by heavy metal rings, who spoke in a deeply guttural voice which the Universal Translator interpreted as sounding faintly Klingon and yet also strangely musical. Blanchard guessed him to be about her age or a little older. The woman had done some research on her would-be opponents, and had discovered that M’huo’t had been skipper of the T’t’han’h, the Yrini vessel, for the last seven years, and was widely considered to be a brave and capable leader. On meeting him, however, the woman was reminded of the pirates who once roamed Earth’s seas.

The Threllians’s captain, an odd little being called Ni, chimed in here. “Such a lovely lady to be in command of a warship.” The captain gave his host a wink, or at least that was how Blanchard interpreted the insectoid’s sudden movement, and the newcomers sat down on the ready room’s couch. In contrast to M’huo’t, Ni was rather short and stocky, and reminded Blanchard of nothing more than a larger version of the ticks she used to pull off her dog. A friend at Starfleet Headquarters had warned Blanchard confidentially that Ni was not to be trusted, however. He often said one thing, and then did another, and could be a ruthless opponent on the battlefield.

Blanchard sat on the edge of her desk and looked at her two male counterparts. She came right to the point. “Some of my officers have conducted a reconnaissance of the planet surface. With your approval, I have selected what seems to be an ideal site for the exercise. There is plenty of vegetation, and there are some interesting geological formations that will make things quite exciting.” Far from being intimidated by the other captains, she readily assumed a role of leadership that she felt was only her right as captain of a Galaxy-class starship.

Ni spoke up. “You have us at somewhat of a disadvantage. We encountered problems with our phase adjustment coil, and a number of our crew have been engaged in making repairs. Your crew, on the other hand, is fresh and ready for battle.” Blanchard privately began to characterize the insectoid as something of a whiner.

M’huo’t had no sympathy for the other captain. “That’s no excuse, Captain. You know very well that we don’t have the luxury of picking when we’re going to go into a real battle. We all have to do the best we can with what we have at the moment.” Blanchard decided that she liked the big Yrini.

“In all fairness, I will allow both of you time to send a team down to scout out the terrain.” Blanchard stood up and walked over to the window. Turning around to face the other two captains, she continued, “Since it is growing late, I propose that we commence with hostilities first thing in the morning, at 0800 hours.”

Ni and M’huo’t gave their approval (the former somewhat grudgingly), and stood up to leave. Blanchard walked with them as far as the transporter room. As the three captains passed through the bridge, she gave her tactical officer instructions to relay the coordinates of the target site to the other ships.

<“center”>=/\=

After leaving the transporter room, Blanchard went to Sick-Bay to check on the ailing crewmembers. She was surprised, upon entering, to see all available beds occupied, with nurses and other medical personnel hovering over the occupants performing various duties. Walking over to Dr. Castle, the captain asked, “What’s going on here?”

The doctor turned away from the patient she was examining, a look of grave concern on her face. Handing the medical scanner to an assistant, she led Blanchard into her office. “Captain,” she said solemnly, “I think we have the makings of an epidemic on board.”

The other woman said, in surprise, “What makes you say that?”

The doctor punched up some figures on her desk terminal and swiveled it around for the captain to see. “Since Ensign Davies first came in, there have been close to a couple dozen new cases. And not only that, but the initial patients’ conditions have worsened. I’m afraid that we’re going to lose the little Courtney girl.” At the last remark, Castle’s face showed her sadness, as well as helplessness she didn’t like to admit.

“Have you determined what’s responsible for these illnesses, Doctor?” Blanchard questioned. She felt increasingly uncomfortable. She hated not being in mastery of any situation, and she rapidly felt that things were spiraling beyond possibility of control.

“Well,” the doctor mused, “Davies did finally admit that, while he was on the planet surface, he was bitten by an animal of some kind. It appears likely that some infectious organism was transmitted at that time. The exobiology lab is presently trying to isolate a causal factor from a sample of his blood, as well as samples from other patients.”

“Have you any idea as to how to treat those already infected?” Blanchard found herself wishing that she had paid more attention to her science studies at the Academy. She hated to admit it, but she was often at a loss when it came to medical matters.

“I can’t do that until we can isolate the infectious organism. In the meantime, we have to deal with the probability that other cases will develop on board. There appears to be a very short incubation period involved, and it’s almost impossible to determine who will be infected next.”

The captain leaned against the bulkhead, thinking. “Can you guess how far this thing will go?”

Castle considered for a moment before answering. “At this point, I’m afraid to make any predictions. I’ve examined everyone who was on the original away team. With the exception of Ensign Davies, no one else is showing any signs of coming down with whatever thing this is.”

“So you think that Davies was the only one on the team that was infected?”

“So far, that seems to be the case. However, at present there’s no way to determine just how long this thing could remain dormant. I think, for their own protection as well as that of the crew, the rest of the away team should be isolated, or at least confined to quarters.” The doctor was well aware that she was the only person on board the McAuliffe who had the ability to over-ride the captain when it came to the welfare of the crew. She hoped she wouldn’t have to exert that authority. However, considering the difficulty she had had dealing with Blanchard, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had to.

The other woman paced around the small office. “Doctor, you’re asking me to relieve my executive officer and security chief for an indefinite period of time, just because you think they may have been exposed to what you think may be an infectious disease?” She came perilously close to losing her temper. “Do you realize that this ship is going into a battle simulation in the morning? Jordan and Ghegau are vital to our success.”

“With the way things are going, Captain,” Castle argued, “there may not be enough crewmembers left to fight in any kind of battle, simulation or no. And besides, I’m not sure we should be sending our people down to such a potentially dangerous environment. Now, are you going to handle this, or do I have to?” The doctor took a step toward Blanchard, ready for a fight.

The captain took Castle’s not-too-subtle threat for exactly what it was. She was having an increasingly difficult time controlling her emotions. “Doctor, I will speak to the two officers in question about remaining in their quarters until morning. By then, I want some answers about what we’re dealing with. As far as postponing the exercises, I’m not ready to make that decision yet.” Her next remark was delivered in the way of a broad hint. “It sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Be sure to resort to me as soon as you know something definite.”

With that, Blanchard turned around quickly and left the office before the doctor could say anything more. As she walked, she spoke. “Computer, what is the location of Commander Jordan?”

“Commander Jordan is in the arboretum,” came the reply, seemingly from out of nowhere.

The captain decided that she might as well get it over with. She entered the turbolift and headed off to tell her most trusted officer that she was relieved of duty. And Blanchard wasn’t looking forward to the prospect.

<“center”>=/\=

Rocky Jordan was taking some rare, but well deserved, leisure time after a long and stressful day. The commander was seldom happier than when she was coordinating strategy and supervising battle drills. However, she was new enough to the McAuliffe that she had had to spend an inordinate amount of time convincing people of her leadership ability. Her nature was to simply give an order and expect it to be obeyed. But here, she felt as if people expected her to explain her orders, and to justify why she wanted something done a particular way. Well, just because the ship’s previous command staff had molly-coddled the crew, that didn’t mean she had to do the same thing.

Jordan had always been a loner, and while she was at Starfleet Academy she had discovered a unique way of finding some time to herself when she needed to. She simply went outside, picked the tallest and sturdiest tree around, and climbed to the top. There, she could look down on the world below her, and clear her mind of everything but the problem at hand. Three was also the satisfaction that came along with climbing, carefully choosing the best and strongest branches, and the exhilaration that came along with knowing that, at any moment, she could fall and seriously injure herself or worse.

The commander had grown up on a starbase, and had never actually seen a real tree until she went to the Academy at eighteen years of age. She had been fascinated with the image of strength and beauty that radiated from the majestic specimens located in the ancient forests of Earth. While those found on the Academy grounds were not nearly so spectacular, there were still a few that made for good climbing. Many were the times when the Academy groundskeepers accused her of trying to damage their prized specimens. After graduating and moving on to starship duty, Jordan still took the opportunity to climb trees whenever she could, either in the ship’s arboretum, or on planets that the ship visited.

At the moment, she was perched in the upper branches of a large oak tree, curled into the most comfortable position possible. Her reverie was suddenly interrupted, however, by a call from below. “Excuse me, Commander.”

The XO took a moment to wonder who knew where she was, and then to question why that person had the nerve to disturb her. Looking down, she saw Ensign Proto peering up at her from beneath the tree. Jordan breathed a sigh of disgust. She had difficulty trusting the PHC, partly because she was not able to “read” him telepathically as she did the rest of the crew. “What is it?” she asked irritably.

“Commander, I am currently researching the concept of leisure time, particularly as it relates to the crew of a starship on a long mission. Would you mind telling me why you are currently seated in the uppermost branches of a specimen of Quercus alba?”

Jordan shifted positions uncomfortably, fighting to control her temper. “Would you mind speaking in Federation standard?”

Failing to take the hint, Proto responded equably, “I was simply inquiring as to why you have climbed this rather large oak tree.” He looked expectantly at his superior officer and waited for her answer.

The commander had had just about enough. She had little patience with the PHC on the best of days, and this had not been one of those. “Mister, I don’t have to explain myself to anyone on this ship but the captain. I suggest you make an about-face and leave, before I come down there and throw you to the next star system.”

Thoroughly unruffled, Proto remarked, “That might be difficult, Commander, as I am a hologram.”

“Then perhaps I’d give the same treatment to your shadow,” came the angry response. Jordan’s sharp eyes looked around and found Johanssen standing on the other side of the room, and she glared at him pointedly. “Now, if you’re still standing there when I get down, I’ll see to it that your program is permanently erased.” As if to prove her point, Jordan started to make her way down the tree.

Far from being frightened, the hologram merely looked back at Jordan curiously. However, he wisely did as commanded. Upon seeing him leave, Jordan took a deep breath and tried to regain control of her emotions. Well, she thought to herself, I might as well get down from here and return to my quarters.

At that moment, the first officer felt a familiar sensation. She could sense, telepathically, that she was about to receive another visitor. However, this one was far more welcome than the last. Smiling, she resumed her climb down from the tree.

When completing her descent, she turned around in time to see Captain Blanchard approaching. She quickly dusted herself off, and tried to make herself as presentable as possible. The greeting she gave her commanding officer was outwardly respectful but, as usual, the slight twist of her mouth showed a subtle trace of sarcasm.

The captain smiled broadly. She was well aware of her XO’s peculiarities, and displayed the kind of tolerance shown only by a true friend. “Number One, I’m beginning to think that you’re part monkey.”

Jordan laughed in spite of herself. “Well, Princess, when I grow a tail, then you can start to worry.” The two women walked toward the corridor, matching stride for stride.

Blanchard shook her head in fond amusement. “If you insist on climbing trees, Rocky, I wish you would do it in the holodeck. Then, if you fall, the safeties will prevent you from being injured.”

“Now, Adele,” the other woman argued, “you know that I can’t stand the holodeck. And besides, monkeys don’t fall out of trees.” Jordan smiled slightly at her attempt at a joke.

The captain understood her XO’s reluctance to use the holodeck. For a brief moment, her mind went back to an instance, during the time that both were in the Academy, when Jordan had been seriously injured because someone had tampered with the holodeck safeties. “I realize why you feel the way you do,” she stated. “However, I don’t like having my first officer place herself in jeopardy.” This was an old argument, and one that would not be resolved today. She decided to drop it for the time being.

Blanchard changed the subject, once again the consummate professional officer. “Actually, Rocky, I came looking for you on ship’s business. If you don’t mind, I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

The commander looked at her, puzzled. She could sense that the captain was about to give her some bad news, and she knew the other woman well enough to know that she wanted to give it privately. Nodding her assent, she fell into step with the captain as she headed toward the turbolift.

Upon reaching her quarters, Jordan turned to face Blanchard. “Okay, Captain, what is it? I don’t have to read your mind to tell that something’s wrong.”

Blanchard sat down. “Are you aware that a number of the crew have come down with a mysterious illness?”

“Well, I did notice that the good doctor has been staying out of my hair for the last several hours.” Jordan went to the replicator and ordered a glass of cold water.

“Apparently, one of the members of the away team picked up some sort of infection while he was down on the planet earlier. It seems to have spread to several others.”

“So,” Jordan asked, “what does this do to our mission?” She sat down on the chair opposite her captain, fully attentive to her.

“The doctor seems to feel that, if the infection continues to spread at its current rate, a significant number of crew members will not be able to participate in the war exercises tomorrow.” The captain crossed her arms and waited for the inevitable explosion.

Sure enough, Jordan stood up and began pacing. “Not be able to participate! Who does she think she is? We’re going to need every hand available if we’re going to give a good showing against the Yrini and the Threllians.”

Blanchard was nothing if not practical. “Dr. Castle’s the CMO aboard this ship. Whether we like it or not, she does have the power to call off this mission if she feels that it will endanger the safety of the crew. She will not make that call if I have anything to say about it, but I have agreed to her request to isolate the remainder of the away team.” She looked at her friend with an expression of sincere regret.

“What! Are you confining me to quarters?” The commander stopped in her tracks and turned to confront the other woman.

“Yes, I’m afraid that I have to do just that, but only until tomorrow morning.” The captain spoke somewhat firmly, as a means of reminding Jordan that she was, despite their close friendship, still in command. “By that time, Castle will surely have come up with a solution to this problem, and we can proceed with the mission.”

The commander’s emotional state quickly shifted from anger to frustration. She had learned, through long experience, just how far to push Blanchard, and when to back away. “The minute I came aboard this ship, I knew that Castle was going to be trouble,” she sighed, speaking to no one in particular.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Blanchard glanced around Jordan’s quarters. The walls were covered with weapons of all kinds, from a Klingon bat’telh and d’k’tahg, to a Vulcan lirpa. She shook her head in amazement. “Number One, why do I get the feeling that I’m walking into an armory when I come to your quarters?”

Responding with pride, the commander commented, “I have to be prepared for all possibilities. You never know when I’m going to have to defend my captain.”

“Yes, Rocky, I must say that you buckle swashes with the best of them.” The captain picked up a Bajoran phaser that was lying on the table, and turned it over in her hands. She found herself thinking, once again, that for all of the other woman’s odd ways, she had been the perfect choice for XO.

Signaling that the interview was at an end, Blanchard stood up and walked toward the door. Turning, she spoke once more. “Consider this a chance to relax and get yourself ready for tomorrow. I’m going to need you in the morning, Number One.” With that, she left and returned to the bridge.

Will the McAuliffe be able to participate in the battle exercises? Return next week to read the third and final part of "Simplicity."