Kree sat at the helm and jumped as Red Alert was suddenly activated 5 mins before the end of Gamma shift. Red lights washed over the consoles around the bridge.

Lt. Sh’rol th’Varak at tactical didn’t look up from his console, he didn’t need to, he had activated it. “Red Alert, all hands to stations,” his voice carried throughout every deck on the USS San Clemente, “This is a simulation, I repeat, a simulation.”

Kree spun in his chair, glaring at the Andorian. “You couldn’t have waited five more minutes?”

“Your enemies will not consult your diary,” Sh’rol replied, hands moving quickly across the console as targets appeared on the viewscreen at the front of the bridge. “Captain’s orders, no warnings.”

Kree grinned at that and spun back to his station. “Fine, lets dance.”

“I’m reading three hostiles out there,” Saell reported from the bridge’s science station, her eyes widening as the hostile signatures appeared. “Approaching from high port, readings indicate probable opportunistic pirates, or trained mercenaries. They’re attempting to jam our sensors.”

“Good,” Sh’rol said. “We’ll practice as if they’re better than we are.”

T’Lenar, sat in her first officers chair, folder her hands. She knew the drill was going to occur, Sh’rol had briefed her at the start of the shift. He wasn’t reckless but was definitely relentless. “Helm, evasive pattern Delta. Keep clear of the relay mockups. Tactical, non-lethal targeting at this time. Let us determine if the ‘hostiles can be dissuaded.”

“Aye,” kree said while already imputing the commands. The Mente came alive as his tapped the console, gliding around the mockups with practiced grace. “Bringing us around, two-seven mark five.”

Sh’rol had seeded the simulated battlespace with complications. Probe launces, to confuse the sensors with multiple reading. An intruder alert in Cargo Bay One. A simulated fault in the port ventral phaser array.

Kree glanced over his shoulder, “we’re doing all the greatest hits today!”

“We are doing what will keep you alive,” Sh’rol grunted

The first simulated burst of fire lit the viewscreen, Kree rolled the Mente under it smoothly.

“Helm,” Sh’rol said, defensive patten DELTA.”

“This is Delta….ish, trust me” Kree replied

Kree smoothly tapped the buttons on his consol, throwing the ship into a tightening spiral that shaved a km off a simulated debris field.

“Watch your clearance” T’Lenar said, having moved across the bridge and was stood at the Operations station.

“Always do…. talk to me Saell” Kree said.

“They’re still jamming our sensors” she replied, “if I switch frequencies, wait… that’s it…. you can reacquire, I’ve got you about 10 seconds”

T’Lenar turned toward Sh’rol, “Tactical, coordinate with Saell”

“Already there Commander,” he then tapped his communicator “Bridge to Security, boarding drill in Cargo Bay One. Teams Alpha and Beta engage move to intercept.”

Kree threw the Mente  into an ‘S Curve’, straight from the Academy’s flight manual. The bridge rocked, the crew having to grip their consoles as the internal dampeners struggled to keep up.

“Helm,” T’Lenar said, with a Vulcan show annoyance on her face. “The San Clemente is not a fighter.”

“Ships fly ,“ he replied

Sh’rol tapped his console, adding in another threat to the simulation. The Mente’s phasers lighting up the darkness as she swung around the simulated targets.

“Helm, hold her steady” Sh’rol said toward Kree

Kree didn’t hold her steady, he accelerated, then cut the thrust so the Mente overshot the simulated attackers aft quarter. “you can shoot better if they’re where you want them.” He said over his shoulder.

Sh’rol looking more frustrated didn’t reply.

The simulated larger vessel brought its nose around and spat a wide beam toward the Mente. Kree took them under and swung the mente up and around its rear, the ship groaned in protest.

“helm!” Sh’rol barked,

Kree’s voice dipped this time, “you’ve got a clear shot.”

The phaser flashed again, the simulated vessel blinking off the screen.

Silence held around the bridge, T’Lenar sat back down in the first officers chair tapping the keypad on its arm. “Simulation paused, Bridge to all stations, stand down from red alert.”

Kree spun in his chair, with a smirk toward Sh’rol. “Fun!” he said

Sh’rol stared at him “Fun?” he shook his head and looked back at the console. “round two in ten.”

Kree’s smirk disappeared, “round what?”

“two” he replied without looking up. “with added variables. You will remain in a defensive posture”

“You mean boring” Kree responded.

T’Lenar looked between them and gave what could be the Vulcan equivalent to a sigh. “Gentlemen”

Sh’rol began, “Regulations exist because physics does not care for improvisations.”

Kree quickly shot back “Improvisations exist because our enemies learn our regulations.”

The turbolift doors opened and Captain Traven entered the bridge with a PADD in one had and a look that said he’s walked up three decks to see something for himself. “How are we doing?” he asked.

“We survived,” Kree said happily.

“We performed, adequately,” Sh’rol interjected.

T’Lenar inclined her head. “The drill achieved its primary objective. There is room for…. Improvement.”

“Run the second round by the book,” Traven said. He then looked at both Sh’rol and Kree, “then you two will write a third scenario together.”

The pair looked to one another as the Captain walked toward the ready room door. “Round two in 10” he said as he stepped through.

Round two began in the same manner as the first, but the bridge crew were aware it was happening this time. The ships sensors showing the same targets as the first round.

Defensive patten delta was a set of angles and vectors in which a vessel could minimise any incoming fire. It was good doctrine, but it was predictable. Kree was a good pilot, he knew this and was trained to think outside the box. But for now he would stick to the book.

“hostiles adjusting spread” Saell said watching the contacts dance around on the console in front of her.

“Security reports Cargo Bay One secure,” Sh’rol said, “Helm, maintain heading”

Kree was visibly frustrated but held the heading.

Sh’rol added a forth contact and then a fifth. The new signatures appearing suddenly on the screens. This time they we’re acting differently than the first round.

“Lieutenant,” T’Lenar said mildy toward the tactical station, “Your ‘added variables’ are… creative”

“the enemy don’t apologise for being numerous” Sh’rol replied.

Kree’s patience thinned, he wanted to react, trust his instincts rather than protocol.

“Helm,” T’Lenar began “continue with patten Delta, trust it.”

He held, the hostiles swung closer, the hostiles swung directly into the position that Sh’rol had expected them to. Kree knew he needed to move, he desperately wanted to swing around, but he didn’t, he held course.

Sh’rol tapped the console and fired, precisely. A second before the simulated hostiles had a chance to. The world didn’t end.

“you see now?” Sh’rol said, clearly directed at Kree. “sticking to the patten allowed tactical to predict what”

Kree cut him off suddenly by throwning the vessel into a roll. T’Lenar grabbed the armrest on her chair, the bridge crew similarly braced themselves. The simulated barrage of enemy fire missed them…. Barely. Saell steadied herself at the science station, allowing herself to catch a breath.

Captain Traven, stood at the back of the bridge where they all could forget his presence, stepped forward. “Simulation pause” he ordered, the red lighting changing back to amber. “Debrief, now.”

A few moments later the bridge crew were sat around the conference room table. Silence hung around the room. Traven didn’t glare at his senior officers, he didn’t have too.

He set his PADD down on the table and looked at the Chief Flight Control officer, “Arven”

“Sir,” he responded.

“Why did you hold, then roll?”

“I was proving a point Sir,” his bravado being replaced by honesty. “If I hold for to long, we become an easy target. If I move forever, tactical can’t plan where I’m going to take us. Somewhere in between in where I live.”

“And do you like where you live?” the captain responded.

He shifted slightly in his seat, “yes sir.”

Traven turned his gaze to Sh’rol. “And you.”

“Captain.”

“Your added hostiles to the simulation” Traven questioned.

“I did sir”

“Why?”

“Because Lieutenant Kree performs at his best when he is forced to decide whether to break protocol” Sh’rol said bluntly. “our enemies will not reward him for holding to a pattern or ignoring it completely. But if he can learn to trust in the crew around him and work as a team, we will all survive.”

T’Lenar raised an eyebrow, a typical Vulcan gesture.

Traven gave them a moment, “You both have one hour to work on a simulation together, I want to see both departments working together, not against one another.” He directed toward Kree and Sh’rol. “Saell, you get to break any assumptions they still have.”

Saell sat a little straighter. “with pleasure Captain.”

Traven tapped his combadge, “Traven to engineering, Brunak, are you still awake down then?”

“Unfortunately,” Brunak grunted in reply “but if that helmsman keeping throwing the ship around, I’m going to bill him for new dampeners.”

T’Lenar turned in her chair and looked toward the two officers, “you have fifty-eight minutes.”

Both officers argued, of course they argued.

Sh’rol wanted a ladder of escalating threats and Kree wanted everything at once and the freedom to sail through it. T’Lenar listened to both without interrupting. At minute 47, they has something that was no loner a pure chess problem nor a chance for fancy flying.

The Captain re-entered the ready room and took his seat, he gave both officers an extra moment to get ready. “lets hear what you’ve got” he said finally.

Sh’rol straightened. “We’ve got a scenario involving a small convoy escort. Four hostiles demonstrating irregular tactics and intermittent jamming of our sensors. We’ve included potential boarding attempts dependent on actions taken with the overall objective to keep both civilian vessels intact.”

Kree stepped forward adding, “We’re limiting the vessel to a defensive posture for the first 2 minutes to prove our ability to do so. After that, flight ops get to do what we do best, inside the plan.”

“Lieutenant Saell?” Traven asked

Saell tapped her PASS, sharing her screen with the main screen on the wall. “I can emulate local relay outages and Jamming to remove tactical’ ability to easily lock on target. I’ll also introduce… noise.”

“Noise?” Traven asked with a puzzled look.

“Environmental weird… stuff,” she replied while changing the screen to give everyone a visual representation. “Subspace eddies, thermal shadows, little things that would make a small incident a really bad day on the bridge.”

The doors swished open and Brunak trundled in, he had a bowl that smelt a little like popcorn but was slimy. The gathered officers watched him as he walked around and sat in what has now become his usual spot at the table.

“Don’t mind me, carry on with your theatrics” he said looking around the room.

Sh’rol and Kree continued to give the Captain a run down of their plans for another few minutes before the senior officers had retook their positions on the Bridge. All apart from Traven who remained in conference room. He didn’t want his presence on the bridge to influence the drill.

The red alert sounded throughout the ship. The Mente manoeuvred to the centre of the two simulated civilian vessels. Kree held the position as planned, shifting her between them and their attackers.

The Mente’s phasers kept the attackers at bay, discouraging rather than maiming them.

“Two minutes” he murmured to himself “posture held.”

“Helm, you may deviate,” Sh’rol said toward Kree.

“time to dance,” he responded and his hands moved across the helm console. The Mente shifted, inertial dampeners trying hard to keep up. Kree skimmed a subspace eddy and let it slide them a little quicker than the engines would allow. Sh’rol timed his phaser fire to keep the attackers away from the convoy.

“Intruders Detected in Cargo Bay One,” the computer announced.

“Security teams to Cargo Bay one,” followed Sh’rol’s voice over the comm.

“One of the civilian ships are straying from their course, they’re being targeted” Saell interrupted.

“Lieutenant Saell, please ensure they follow the designated headings” T’Lenar ordered, Saell quickly responded, sending their Captain a coded transmission.

The attackers pressed them, attempting to get around the Mente to the softer targets of the civilian vessels. Kree reacting to their movements to ensure they couldn’t be targeted.

“Don’t get cocky” Saell said to the helmsman,

“Never,” Kree responded with a little white lie and a smile on his phase. He held off a roll when he wanted to waiting to the prescribed moment within the defensive patten. Hitting the command on the mark to give Sh’rol the perfect opportunity to open fire.

He was waiting for it, the hostile vessel exploding on the viewscreen. The remaining vessels disengaging.

“Simulation end,” T’Lenar said.

The red lights faded as the doors at the rear of the bridge slid open. Captain Traven stepping through. He looked at Sh’rol first. “Lieutenant.”

“Captain.” He responsed

“you taught,” Traven said simply

Sh’rol lifted his chin toward Kree “So did he.”

Traven looked toward the helm as Kree spun around in his chair. “You flew with the plan, not against it.”

“Turns our the plan liked me, who knew.” Kree responded

Saell looked between the Tactical and Helm, “that was…. Elegant”

Sh’rol’s antennae responded before he spoke, straightening slightly. “We will run it again, with Lieutenant Saell’s ‘noise’ adjusted this time.”

Kreen grinned, no longer defiant, instead he looked eager to go again. “agreed, let’s make it weird.”

T’Lenar stood. “Debrief in the conference room in 60 minutes. Continue to run and with junior officers. IF they can execute it, we keep it.”

“understood,” both Kree and Sh’rol answered in unison.

Traven watched his two senior officers, so different now having found a shared language.

“Good work,” he said.

The bridge crew rotated as crew members rotated out for different officers. Kree lingered at the helm, half spinning in his chair. Sh’rol was still at tactical, checking through the results and logs of the runs.

Kree cleared his throat. “hey” he said toward Sh’rol

“Sh’rol didn’t look up, but responded “yes.”

“The Patten Delta…. You weren’t wrong” Kree continued

There was a slight pause while Sh’rol continued to tap on is PADD. “I know” he said finally, closing a file. “The roll toward the end of the simulation, you held off when every part of you wanted to initiate.”

Kree tilted his head toward the Andorian, “you noticed?”

Sh’rol smiled, unusual when on duty, Kree couldn’t remember ever seeing him do so. “Helmsman are loud, even when they say nothing.”

“I’m not loud,” Kree protested but then almost immediately relented “ok, maybe a little.”

“more than a little” Sh’rol said “Your…. Style…. Suits the ship, just not ALL the time”

Kree nodded, “your…. Book…. Suits the ship too, just not ALL the time”

“the we will keep each other in check” Sh’rol said.

“Deal,” but because he couldn’t hold back Kree added, “We should get drinks sometime so I can teach you to loosen up”

“I do not loosen” Sh’rol replied.

“Ok, we’ll start with not tightening” Kree said cheerfully spinning back to his console.

From the turbolift Rinka Korren’s voice floated onto the bridge before she did. “if you two are done flirting with doctrine, we’re here to try not to crash the ship.”

“On our way,” Kree responded, standing to make way.

Sh’rol hesitated, but extended a hand as Kree passed him. Kree looked down at it as though it was a new manoeuvre he’d never come across. Finally shaking it.

“Don’t make me regret this Helm” Sh’rol said.

“Never” Kree replied, and for once meant it.

The junior crewmembers took their stations, each looking a little nervous. Both officers briefing their departments with words of encouragement.

The USS San Clemente hummed, the chair creaked and somewhere in sickbay there was a handwritten sign of encouragement next to a bowl of mint-green wrappers.

Traven settled in to watch the next drill. The drill had gone to far and then it had gone just far enough. The crew was learning how to move and hold together. Learning when was the right time to improvise and how to let each others strengths sing in harmony.

The Red Alert sounded and the Mente, under steady hands, did what she always did when she had to choose between caution and courage. She did both.