Whumptober Prompt No. 17: Swap for the alt Aftermath of Failure
I'd originally intended to go a more tragic direction for this, but I for one can only write so much angst and whump before it starts getting depressing, so this only barely qualifies. Have a slice of life instead.
Spock will be more than pleased to have this mission, and this week, well in their aft viewer.
The Enterprise encounters this categorization of events with what would seem to be unfair regularity. The humans call it 'Murphy's Law,' a fictitious doctrine loosely paraphrasing the second law of thermodynamics; a very human interpretation of the principle that an inclination toward chaos rules the universe at large. Or, in much less scientific terminology: Ceteris paribus, that which can go wrong, typically does.
And on this ship, that which can go wrong, typically does so with much more dramatic consequences than one might initially presume.
However, though this ship does appear to have been subject to an increased risk of danger in the years she has been commanded by James Kirk, Spock is scientifically aware that this elevated risk is due primarily to the fact that they are the flagship; as such, they are sent to the most high-risk situations, and have the most general uncertainty regarding safe destination points in their trek across the galaxy. One cannot expect a starship of equal size whose sole purpose is localized exploration or training missions, to encounter the same level of danger and difficulty as that which is the first line of defense against the unknown. Correlation is not causation.
That said, there are weeks like this when, if Spock were human, he might contemplate the legitimacy of this non-existent Murphy's Law, because he would be hard-pressed to come up with a scenario that could actually make things worse.
The Enterprise had been in standard orbit around Starbase 19 for less than two days when a distress call had been received from a nearby cargo freighter whose warp drive had sustained serious damage in an unknown event, and which was now leaking radiation throughout the ship. While not immediately deadly, the radiation seemed to be exponentially increasing by the hour; and while manned by a minimal team only, said team would certainly be exposed to lethal amounts long before the damage to ship's systems could be repaired.
The cargo was not particularly valuable, but highly volatile, being various chemical compounds used in dilithium mining; and if outside forces did not offer aid, then there would likely be a serious tragedy within hours.
Of course, the Enterprise was, at the time, the only constitution-class ship in orbit around Starbase 19; and as such, the only one which had sufficient radiation shields to risk going to the doomed freighter's aid.
This would not, ordinarily, have been much of an issue. They have certainly undertaken such rescue missions before, with complete success. However, they had originally been diverted to Starbase 19 for the purpose of Captain Kirk's summons to serve on a board of inquiry against the Second Officer of another Starfleet vessel, the Valorous.
Spock is well aware Kirk hates being compelled to participate in any proceedings which could affect another officer's trajectory in the 'Fleet, not least because he has himself been on the wrong side of a potential court martial. But as the only ranking captain in the quadrant at the time, there had been no room for debate on the matter, and so the Enterprise diverted accordingly for that purpose.
This unfortunately had proven far more beneficial to the young officer in question, than to the Enterprise herself. Kirk's stubborn holdout on the board due to suspicious inconsistencies in the Valorous First Officer's log of the matter had put the board into a two-day deadlock, all under complete isolation for sake of impartiality to the subject of the inquiry.
As a result, it is Spock who assumes command of the Enterprise for the duration of the impromptu rescue mission some four hours' distance from the Starbase, as Kirk cannot be reached or retrieved for at least another day, potentially longer. The Enterprise leaves without delay, knowing speed is of the essence.
They are approximately fifty-five minutes from the location of the troubled freighter when a much-alarmed Stellar Cartography team informs him that there are dangerous radiation levels ahead in their projected flight path, levels far higher than expected or predicted in the initial reports. The reports do not match what their instruments are telling them, which is in itself cause for caution. There is no scenario in which dilithium mining supplies, chemical or not, would be producing radiation at that intensity.
Said intensity is high enough that their shipwide shields cannot fully protect the human crew of this vessel, much less their valuable ship's systems. The chance of the Enterprise's engine core shielding degrading under the bombardment is very high, and the likelihood that radiation would adversely affect the crew, a near certainty even with medical prevention. Risk is one thing, but certain danger to life and ship is something vastly different, particularly on this scale.
Though Lieutenant Uhura verifies the emergency beacon from the freighter is still clearly transmitting with all seven life-signs active aboard her, Spock makes the decision to slow their progress, and confers with Chief Engineer Scott regarding the viability of enhancing their shield modulators to allow the rescue mission to proceed at previous speed without endangering the Enterprise.
Fifty-four minutes into an animated discussion of how to accomplish this by any method other than draining power from vital ship's systems, the second report arrives. It bears the grim news that the emergency beacon has ceased transmitting. That there is now every indication the radiation suddenly increased exponentially, and is now rapidly spreading from what looks to be a ground zero event of unquestioningly deadly intensity.
There is no longer need for a rescue mission, and in fact they must immediately evacuate the area or risk being caught in the radiation zone.
While this outcome is certainly regrettable, Spock is relatively at peace with the fact, as the likelihood of the Enterprise emerging from the mission unscathed had been unacceptably low. Montgomery Scott, even if his reaction is more openly emotional about the unnecessary loss of life from the freighter, agrees with his assessment.
Starfleet Command, however, does not.
Based on the vehemency of the unexpected and borderline xenophobic censure by a rear admiral he has never before heard of, and the fact that reports had not matched reality at their approach, Spock suspects that the cargo of the freighter had either been exceedingly expensive, or been of suspicious origin (potentially both). Someone, he knows not who, must have been well aware of that fact and had not disclosed it to the Enterprise.
At the very least, the cargo could not have been entirely as indicated on the manifest, and the Enterprise had been chosen to do damage control under guise of a rescue mission and incomplete information.
This misgiving, however, is not something he would vocalize within the hearing of subordinates, and certainly not when the rear admiral in question has decided the command Bridge is the appropriate place to deliver such a lengthy, and unnecessarily emotional, reprimand of the Enterprise's First Officer and current Acting Captain.
Even Doctor McCoy, lurking as he does sometimes on the Bridge for no apparent reason, remains silent, well out of sight of the main viewer, and displays remarkably uncharacteristic discretion in leaving unnoticed, instead of adding the acerbic commentary Spock had been half-expecting once the call was concluded. The rest of the crew appear to be, while casting uneasy glances at each other, at least silent regarding the event and its consequences.
What is, is. Spock accepts the aforementioned censure with such equanimity as befits a Vulcan of his station, and the Enterprise returns to Starbase 19 without further delay.
Just the same, he identifies the human emotion of relief when informed after approach procedures, that the captain has sent word he will be beaming back aboard within two hours of finalized docking, and that the crew have been granted a resumption of their interrupted shore leave. While Spock has no vested interest in the latter, the former is a quite different matter.
However, he is fully occupied in finalizing the reports on the recent failed mission, in addition to ensuring the shore leave rotations are proceeding as scheduled, and so it is much later in the evening that he is relieved as watch officer by Lieutenant-Commander DeSalle. He is finally able to retreat to the Science decks, to continue the work he had been forced to abandon in the laboratories upon taking command of the Bridge the day before.
It will be another half duty shift, at minimum, before he will be able to return to his quarters for some much-needed reflection, but at the least, the laboratory wing is relatively quiet, since the vast majority of his officers are either asleep or on the Starbase below.
Science typically rotates out first for shore leave, because Engineering and Operations utilize the time around a starbase to catch up on maintenance tasks which have gone de-prioritized among daily ship's business. They prefer to work on a less crowded vessel, and so prefer their leave to be the last shift, once assured the ship is star-worthy, fully ready for resumption of her travels.
This usually is of benefit to Spock, as he is able to accomplish a longer task list in the absence of distractions both shipside and ashore.
Granted, this particular evening, one such distraction arrives not forty minutes into his laboratory shift, in typical dramatic fashion; namely, with much under-breath muttering and the dull clatter of a padd being tossed on a nearby table. If doors aboard a starship could slam, Jim Kirk would likely keep their Maintenance staff quite busy in hinge repair.
"Welcome aboard, sir," he says dryly, not looking up from the multiphasic spectrometer.
He hears a faint snort of amusement, but when Kirk speaks, his voice is quite serious. "Is what you're working on time-sensitive?"
"It is."
"All right. I'll wait." The squeak of a stool being pulled out at the table accompanies the words.
That is somewhat unexpected, and not altogether welcome, as Spock is not anticipating having to explain his decisions, which technically failed all rescue mission parameters.
But it does not appear as though the captain will be dissuaded or distracted, and so Spock merely returns to work with a slightly increased sense of urgency. The sensitive portions of the experiment take precisely 23.6 minutes to conclude, and in that time he might have forgotten he has an observer, if he did not possess eidetic memory. Kirk has remained completely quiet, and has apparently been content to either watch Spock work or allow his mind to drift to other things.
As it stands, Spock sees no point in delaying the coming conversation and its no-doubt disappointed commentary on the mission debacle, even if attempting to stall for more time is a most appealing human thought. Sending the results and reporting he requires to the terminal in his cabin, he finally shuts down the spectrometer and turns to face his commanding officer, standing at attention to indicate preparation for official business.
"Captain."
Kirk's eyebrows incline slightly. "Hello to you too."
Spock does not rise to the bait, as it would not expedite this conversation nor return his mental state to semi-tranquil reflection. "How may I assist you, sir?"
"Walk with me," Kirk says, somewhat abruptly, and turns to leave the lab without a look backward.
Spock blinks at his retreating figure in some consternation for a moment, but ultimately resigns himself. He makes a mental note to send someone back for the forgotten data-padd, and catches up to Kirk as he patiently holds the aft port-side turbolift.
"Did the inquiry conclude to your satisfaction?"
While the captain does not appear to be visibly distraught, there is an unusual tension in his expression which might indicate the legal proceedings had not, in fact, had a positive outcome.
"Engineering," Kirk says to the wall-computer, hand on the directional controls, and then turns back to him. "I was planning on a shipwalk below decks, do you have the time?"
"Certainly." He does not, precisely, but will make such time as is necessary, particularly as it is rare that they both are free simultaneously for the activity in question.
"Thank you. And it was…a fair outcome, I suppose. It's never enjoyable, demoting someone over a foolish mistake." Kirk shakes his head. "Particularly if it's clear the mistake was through ignorance, not carelessness. There's a serious documentation and communication problem somewhere in the command chain of the Valorous, that's obvious."
"Ah." That is unfortunate, if more common than it should be, in the 'Fleet. But Kirk's refusal to accept the case at face value will, at least indirectly, be of some consolation to the young officer feeling the most direct consequences of the affair.
"But the inquiry wasn't about that, and the kid was technically at fault. At this point in his career, he should be able to question an order that clearly endangers lives, not just blindly obey it. He will have to spend the next year in a specialized training program aboard a different ship, but at least there's no indication he'll have worse consequences. I don't have any input on what'll happen with the Valorous, but I hope someone takes the XO to task for retroactively dating important communications, at the least."
"Of course."
Spock would not be at all surprised to find the unfortunate young man in question at the top of their next lineup of Enterprise transfer requests, but that will remain to be seen.
The turbolift chimes to indicate their approach to the Engineering deck, and a moment later the doors open onto what looks like (very) barely controlled chaos. Montgomery Scott's booming voice can clearly be heard from down the corridor, echoing exasperatedly inside the confined space of a Jefferies tube, and both the closest junctions and the main Engineering section are swarming with busy redshirts.
Kirk stops abruptly, staring at the scene in consternation. "I did not, perhaps, think this through completely, and Scotty will have my head if I even think about poking my nose into that. Shall we do SS&R instead? They're not scheduled to start leave rotation until 0200."
"Affirmative. Ship's Stores," Spock directs the computer, and the doors close again.
The next two hours suffice to shift focus from recent events into the present, a diversion which is relatively welcome. The Stores and Requisitions staff seem quite pleased to greet them despite the surprise of their visit, walking them through current improvements to their receiving, replication and distribution processes, and it is not an altogether unproductive time period.
It also is not a particularly subtle diversion tactic, knowing what he does about this particular human and his leadership style. He voices this opinion with equal directness when, upon leaving SS&R, Kirk unceremoniously pulls him into a little-used briefing room behind the aft storage compartments.
"Yes, well, I wanted to make sure my temper was under control first. Subtlety was a secondary consideration," Kirk replies dryly, gesturing toward the adjoining chair at the small table. "Have a seat, Commander."
Spock sits, somewhat warily. If the captain is so angry about recent events that hours of reflection were required prior to addressing it, this discussion is likely to be unpleasant. He has little doubt that Kirk would somehow, and in all defiance of probability and logic, have been able to save the freighter without unduly endangering the Enterprise. And while learning what actions Spock should have taken will no doubt be enlightening from a purely scientific point of view, the process of receiving this feedback will not be enjoyable.
By both Vulcan and human standards, he has certainly improved in his ability to command this crew, since those very uncomfortable early days when he clashed regularly with Kirk's other officers over his far less personable command presence. The captain himself has been of unquestionable assistance in leading both by example and direct communication, guiding Spock in this direction with unending patience and what seemed to be at the time, very undeserved faith in his potential.
But improvement is not achievement, and it will be many years before Spock desires a command of his own. Certainly, the role does not appeal to him as naturally as his scientific inclinations do.
"So, I've read the reports," Kirk says now, with the candor that Spock typically appreciates in his official conversations. "I'd like to hear yours in person, though."
"There is little to add which is not in the official record, sir. I compiled a full written account this morning."
"Hm." The non-committal answer is delivered with a pointed look. "Written, yes. But full is not the descriptor I'd use."
"I do not follow."
"Would you like to explain why I returned to duty just in time to field six formal complaints regarding the unacceptable, and apparently very public, dressing-down of the Enterprise's acting captain yesterday – by that pompous idiot Lundgren, of all people – but absolutely no reference to it in your account of the matter?" Spock's utter confusion must be obvious, because Kirk's expression softens. "You really were just going to let it slide unremarked, weren't you."
"Formal complaints?" He is still fixated upon this detail, because it seems most excessive, even for a crew of emotional humans. The formal complaint process exists in the 'Fleet for a reason, but said process is typically only used for actually serious offenses. This certainly does not seem to qualify.
"Very much so. Four from the regular Bridge crew, one from the Environmental Control ensign manning that station yesterday, and a particularly scathing one from Bones, of all people, that I actually had to censor before sending on its way."
"I do not understand."
"And that concerns me, Spock." The captain's eyes are soft with some undefined emotion. "Do you think Lundgren's opinion of your command decisions was actually justified? Or that the Bridge was the place to deliver a serious reprimand, even if it was justified?"
"I see very little logic in considering opinion as relevant to truth, sir, and the reprimand was quite clearly based upon opinion. The physical location of the conversation was immaterial."
"That wasn't the firm no I was hoping for. And I notice you didn't say you see zero logic in it, just very little."
"Opinion is, as a rule, based upon human emotion rather than objective fact. Such opinion has no relevance to me."
"And if I said I agreed with his evaluation?" Kirk asks quietly.
"That would…be cause to revise my previous statement, as yours is the only one which carries any weight in the matter," he replies, somewhat taken aback. "…Do you? Agree with it?"
"No! In no universe would I agree with it!"
The indignation appears to be quite genuine, to Spock's admittedly human relief.
The captain sighs, and after a moment of hesitation reaches across the intervening inches to put a hand on his wrist. "You did exactly what you should have done, Mr. Spock," he finally says. "You put the safety of this ship above any other consideration."
"Including that of the ship in distress."
"Including that, yes. It was a terrible situation, there isn't any denying that. But the Enterprise and her crew depend on us to ensure we don't end up in a similarly tragic scenario, and I expect you to keep their safety first and foremost at all times. Even more so, when I'm not present, but also when I am. You're the last line of defense for our people, internally and externally, and I rely on you to be that."
"Starfleet Command clearly does not agree with you in this particular instance, sir."
"Then they're a collective of complete imbeciles, or they're hiding something," Kirk retorts, with unusual heat. "I read Scotty's report and reviewed the Engineering and Cartography logs, I've seen all the data. You made the right choice, Spock. And I am so proud of you for that."
Such overstated praise is a rare occurrence, and noteworthy for its rarity.
"However. I'd like to see you be confident enough in your decisions that you don't let an admiral who hasn't stepped foot on a ship in ten years, walk all over you next time."
Spock does not question the metaphor, as it is easily extrapolated from context. "That could prove somewhat difficult. I will likely never seek to escalate conflict, Captain."
"If that's actually your preference, then I'll respect it. Just know that you have the right to defend your decisions as strongly as you have always defended mine."
"I am at least intellectually aware of this."
"All right, then. If it were solely up to me, I'd have already given Lundgren a piece of my mind on the matter. But then I wouldn't be any better than he was, about respecting your decisions."
That is a remarkably human way of looking at the matter, but also a fascinating one.
"Be that as it may, in the future I want to see a complete report, conflict and all. Even if it's flagged for my eyes only. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." Kirk sits back in his chair, the air of official business dissipating almost immediately. "Now, what else did I miss?"