May 19th, 2014 - 12-Dimensional Chess
AUTHOR: Anonymous
May 19th, 2014 - 12-Dimensional Chess
Some tech-savvy genius had taken a chessboard and mixed it with a deck of cards, creating a multi-tiered human-scale game that filled the gleaming atrium. Blue Spades, Green Clubs, Gold Diamonds, and Red Hearts fought turn by turn to ensure that their King was the last one standing. A crowd of aliens watched from the top of the dome, drinking Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters and betting on which of the three remaining sides would win. The bookies at the moment favored Clubs, but Hearts wasn't far behind.
Alfred F. Jones, captain of the United Starfleet Starship Independence, grit his teeth from his position on the piece that represented the King of Spades. If he wanted to get off this planet alive (and he very much did), he had to win a multi-dimensional chess game that he barely understood. Even worse, the crew members on his away-mission had been forced to play as various pieces on the Spades side. Jones wasn't sure what would happened if their pieces were knocked off the board, but the screams of the other players as they plummeted into the abyss below was not encouraging.
The only two advantages Jones had at the moment were, one, that Hearts and Clubs saw each other as the greatest threat and, two, he had the level-headed guidance of his second-in-command: Lieutenant Kirkland, a bushy-browed, pointy-eared Vulcan with a penchant for calm logic and quick calculations.
"Captain," his second-in-command murmured, "I see an opening." Kirkland silently relayed the plan with his wrist communicator, showing how they could wipe out the other Kings in only a few moves. But to win, it would require Kirkland to sacrifice his own piece, the Queen of Spades.
"Absolutely not," Jones rejected the plan without a second thought.
"It's the logical choice. A small sacrifice to serve a greater good."
"I said no, Lieutenant."
Kirkland gave him a mild look of disapproval, which was about the strongest emotion the cold-blooded Vulcan ever showed to anyone. Jones knew that Kirkland's tongue was as sharp as his mind, especially when he thought that his captain was doing something particularly stupid. Sometimes Jones wondered if his second-in-command was even capable of other emotions.
Pushing those pointless thoughts out of his head, an idea began to simmer as he examined the alien transmitter that he used to control his pieces on the board. Starfleet had forbidden him from using his top-secret electromagnetic disruption technology without an admiral's approval, but one did not become the youngest captain in Starfleet history by following the rules. Jones had long ago learned that so long as everything turned out okay in the end (meaning, he kept his starship intact and his crew alive), the top brass was willing to look the other way. Of course, if he failed, there would be hell to pay.
He spent the next few moves studying his transmitter in an unobtrusive fashion. To the alien's watching from above, he was simply plotting out his next moves. But Jones was actually hacking his way into the core of the program. Although it was difficult to make his way through the unfamiliar technology, he knew that he could rely on Kirkland to play brilliantly and buy him the time he needed.
Jones felt a buzz of excitement as he finally cracked the code, followed by an immediate panic when he saw the Clubs pieces ganging up on him and the other Spades pieces. Kirkland had drawn their attention to Spades by playing a little too brilliantly.
"Captain, if you have a plan, I suggest you use it," the Vulcan said dryly, looking far too sanguine about their imminent loss.
Jones nodded. During his next move, he slipped a small virus into the game's program. It convinced the program that queens were jacks and jacks were kings, creating mass confusion on the board as the Kings of Hearts and Clubs ordered movement only to find that the pieces were going in completely unexpected directions.
The aliens watching from above grumbled their displeasure, and a small army of robots swarmed the board trying to fix the problem. The captain grinned.
It was a clever little virus; it spread into the robots and then infected the entire atrium, knocking out the shield that was preventing his ship from teleporting them off the planet. Jones used his final turn in the mixed-up game to move himself to the spot next to the King of Clubs. He punched the alien in the face, knocking him off the board just as his chief engineer beamed them off the planet. With a sigh of relief, Jones and the other crewmates safely landed in the starship's teleporter room.
"Lieutenant Honda, get us out of here!" he ordered as soon as his feet touched the teleporter pad. He took the lift to the starship's main control area, with Kirkland following closely behind.
"Captain, that was exceedingly reckless," the Vulcan said as they rose through the belly of the ship. "And you know the admiral banned the use of EMD technology."
"Well, it worked, didn't it?"
Kirkland gave him an unimpressed look. "This time. You jeopardized the safety of yourself and the crew with your lack of planning."
"Ah, were you worried about me?" Jones teased.
"I was thinking only of the success of the mission." Kirkland spoke calmly, but Jones thought he saw a flicker of genuine concern in the Vulcan's eyes. If it was there at all, it was gone a second later.
The lift doors opened and they each took their positions amidst the lights and activity on the bridge. Jones glanced down at the control panel on the captain's chair and barked out orders to his crew. At the moment he had an official Starfleet mission to complete, but perhaps later he could return to his own personal quest to discover what lay beneath the prickly exterior of his mysterious second-in-command.