Part of USS Vallejo: Shades of Obsidian

Learning Curve: Part 1

USS Vallejo
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Cadet Jeremy Ryan stood at the auxiliary tactical console on the USS Vallejo, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the glowing interface. All around him, the holographic bridge was alive with tension. The flashing lights indicating the ship’s red alert status coincided with the loud blaring audio alert. The simulation hummed and vibrated just as the systems of the real Vallejo would under siege, a surprisingly realistic aspect in the replication of the emergency facing them.

On the viewscreen the image of an identified vessel drew closer, its weapons systems visibly charging in a display of increasing light. Simultaneously two smaller vessels of similar unfamiliar design appeared and flanked the Vallejo, their movements swift and coordinated. There was no way the California-Class Utility Cruiser would be able to evade ships that nimble. Ryan’s console was flooded with data, so much so that it was overwhelming to see the full picture of their situation. Targeting solutions, ship coordinates, shield integrity, and the ominous countdown of a firing sequence on the lead alien vessel.

“Cadet?” Commander Arjun Mehta’s voice snapped Ryan back to attention, cutting through the background noise like a phaser beam. He stood behind Ryan, PADD in hand, his posture rigid and commanding. The simulated Bridge officers were all absent, save Ensign Renn Tanara, his best friend, at the helm. For the purposes of this simulation, Ryan was in command.

Ryan hesitated, his mind racing as he analyzed the tactical readouts. He had three choices: focus fire on the lead ship, disable the flanking ships before they could break through the shields, or attempt to spread firepower across all three targets to buy time. Each option carried risks. Concentrating on the lead ship might allow the smaller ships to cripple their shields, while dividing his focus could result in none of the targets being neutralized in time.

Sweat dripped down the back of Ryan’s uniform as his fingers trembled over the targeting panel.

“Cadet…” Mehta’s voice interjected, tinged with impatience.

Ryan inhaled sharply, “Targeting the lead ship’s weapons array,” he said, locking in the firing sequence. His hands moved quickly as he calculated the spread. “Firing phasers, photon torpedoes, full spread.”

On the viewscreen, beams of light struck from the Vallejo, colliding with the alien vessel’s shields in bursts of orange and purple. Several glowing torpedoes streaked toward the ship, whose shields were just weakened with phaser fire. They made impact, sending eruptions of energy venting from the alien vessel’s hull. The holographic bridge rocked as a retaliatory volley of weapons fire struck the Vallejo’s shields. Sparks flew from a nearby console as simulated damage reports scrolled across the displays.

“Direct hit, no damage to the lead ship.,” he reported, his voice tight, tinged with disbelief.

“Shields down to 40%!” Tanara called out from the conn, her voice tinged with panic.

Ryan’s fingers flew over the console, scrambling to adapt. “Diverting all available power to shields,” he said quickly, trying to regain control. “Retargeting the flanking ships to…”

Before he could even finish, the two smaller vessels launched their strikes. Their plasma fire tore through the Vallejo’s weakened shields, sending simulated explosions rippling through the holographic bridge. Consoles erupted in fire, filling the holodeck with acrid smoke and a deafening explosion rocked the room. The simulation froze as the computer announced flatly: “Program failed. Simulation terminated.”

Ryan stood at his console, watching the words “Program failed” flash mockingly on the tactical console. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins, pounding in his temples, refusing to stop even though he stood in the silence of the holodeck.

Commander Mehta stepped forward and placed his hand on the cadet’s shoulder. Ryan turned to face him, afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. He didn’t speak immediately, letting the weight of the failure settle over the room.

Ryan was the first to speak, “I miscalculated,” he said, his voice low. “The lead ship’s weapons array”

“Was the wrong choice,” Mehta interrupted, his tone cutting but not unkind. “You fell into a trap, Cadet. They baited you, and you reacted. Aggressively… Predictably.”

Ryan straightened slightly, defensive instinct kicking in. “Sir, their weapons were charging. There wasn’t time for…”

“Time for what?” Mehta’s voice rose, sharp enough to slice through Ryan’s protest, cocking his eyebrow. “To open a channel? To try and determine their intentions? Or are you telling me you had time to fire phasers and launch a full spread of torpedoes but not to say, ‘This is the USS Vallejo. State your purpose?”

Cadet Ryan inhaled deeply, taking Mehta’s words to heart. He had reacted to the immediate threat, calculating damage potential and shield integrity, but he never once considered diplomacy.

“You automatically assumed to meet force with force,” Mehta continued, pacing slowly now. “And in doing so, you escalated the situation. What were the parameters of this simulation?”

“To neutralize the threat to the ship and crew,” he said cautiously.

Mehta shook his head. “To neutralize the threat… You didn’t need to fire a single shot to succeed, Cadet. Those ships were not hostile. Their charging weapons were a ruse to test your decision-making under pressure.”

“In a real engagement,” Mehta pressed on, “your actions could have triggered an interstellar incident, or worse, gotten everyone on this ship killed. Starfleet’s mission is to explore, seek understanding, and resolve conflict peacefully whenever possible. We don’t shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan said quietly, the sting of failure in his voice.

Mehta stood tall and firm; his hands clasped behind his back. “Cadet, you have the tactical instincts of a warrior. That’s not a bad thing, but you need to temper it with the wisdom of a diplomat. There will be times when firing first is the only option, but that should never be your default.”

Ryan met his gaze, determination flickering to life despite the weight of Mehta’s critique. “Understood, sir. I’ll do better.”

Mehta nodded, his expression softening slightly. “I have no doubt Cadet, and for the record… I failed this test my first time around, as did Commander Rax. I’ll see you later on the bridge.” A brief smile spread across Mehta’s face as he turned to leave.

Ryan remained standing for a moment as Mehta left the holodeck. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, letting the tension ease from his shoulders. Straightening his posture, Ryan stepped toward the exit. He paused briefly, glancing back at the now-blank console.

The doors hissed open as Ryan stepped into the corridor. The hum of the ship enveloped him, a reminder of the larger mission he was a part of. He walked away from the holodeck with a new resolve; next time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake. Next time, he’d remember that Starfleet wasn’t about winning every fight, it was about preventing them whenever possible.