Title:
Natural Selection
Author: Whoa Nellie ([email protected])
Series: TNG
Rating:
PG
Codes:
Jack Crusher
Synopsis: Jack Crusher takes the test of a
lifetime. This vignette is part of a
series of vignettes looking at the life and times of Jack Crusher. The vignettes were all written in response
to challenges on the fanfiction forum at Trekbbs. The theme of this vignette was 'Heart' and was originally posted
to Trekbbs on May 18, 2006. Thanks to
David Falkayn for the editorial assistance.
Acknowledgements: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have
a lot more fun playing with them.
Feedback
is always appreciated, posted or
e-mail.
Whoa
Nellie's Romance Star Trek Fan Fiction Stories
http://whoanellie.fortunecity.com
NATURAL
SELECTION
Jack was jolted violently awake when the
transport shuttle he was on began rocking wildly. He was exhausted from the strenuous testing he'd been undergoing
to gain admission to Starfleet Academy and had dozed off seconds after boarding
the shuttle for the return trip to San Francisco. He managed to pull himself up into the aisle, holding on to the
seat backs to steady himself as the shuttle lurched beneath him. One of the other passengers fell into the
aisle in front of him and nearly knocked his feet out from under him. Alarms were going off, but there was no
indication of where the problem was. He
struggled to stay on his feet while making his way to the front of the
transport. Finally he managed to get to
the cockpit and he quickly realized what the trouble was--the navigation
console had exploded. The pilot had
taken the brunt of the explosion and was obviously dead, the co-pilot was
unconscious but breathing; unfortunately, the auto-pilot wasn't engaging.
Wincing with sympathy, he shoved the
pilot's body to the floor and slid into the seat to do a quick systems
check. He wasn't much of a pilot, but
he had a basic level of familiarity with flight systems. The pilot's console was completely
unresponsive so he moved over to the co-pilot's chair, checking the co-pilot
for any sign of consciousness before gently maneuvering him to the floor. The good news was that they still had engine
power; the bad news was that he had no way to control the engines because the
navigational systems were all shot.
They were at full impulse and he had no way to steer them. Briefly he considered cutting the engines
but decided to hold that plan in reserve since there was no guarantee that the
engines would start back up again and at their current speed, the damage to any
people or structures on the ground would be massive even assuming they survived
the landing. Thrusters weren't
responding, which meant he had no way to even slow down.
"Mayday, mayday," his voice
sounded surprisingly calm to his own ears as he tried to send a distress
signal. With no response, he checked
the communications panel and found them completely unresponsive. Re-routing power didn't work which meant
that some of the relays had probably been damaged in the initial explosion and
he didn't have time to root around under the console to fix it. Transferring emergency power to the sensors
gave him a picture of where he was--not that he could do anything about it at
the moment. A low moan from the
co-pilot reminded him of the others onboard.
"Damn," he muttered under his
breath, accessing the transporter. This
was just a basic transport shuttle with a rudimentary emergency transporter. The only way to lock in coordinates was with
the sensors online, but the power keeping the sensors up was being re-routed
from the emergency systems. Nobody was
getting off this transport until it came to a complete stop.
He had only a couple of minutes before
they'd reach San Francisco, but without communications there was no way to let
them know there was a problem. They'd
just fly right over the city and keep going until the engines ran out of
power. What he needed was a way to
control the landing, a large area with nobody around to get hurt since it would
take at least a dozen kilometers for the transport to stop--probably more but
it didn't seem necessary to do the exact math at that moment. Scanning the sensor display for a good crash
site, his eyes were drawn to the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean.
"Perfect," he exclaimed; well,
almost perfect except for the fact that their current trajectory would take
them dangerously close to the Hawaiian Islands before they'd stop even in the
water. Of course he could crash dive
instead of attempting a horizontal landing, but they'd quickly reach depths
dangerous or even fatal to the survivors onboard before help could arrive. All he had to do was nudge them a couple of
degrees to the starboard side and he'd have an entire ocean to land on. Radar stations would pick up their crash
landing and a ship would be dispatched to investigate, taking the
survivors--assuming there were any--back to land. He'd only be a little late and he was sure that Starfleet would
understand under the circumstances.
"Think, Jack, think," he
intoned. The easiest way to alter their
trajectory would be to depressurize the main compartment. They weren't high enough for oxygen to be an
issue, so as long as nobody got sucked out, they'd be fine for a few
moments. If he cut engines when he got
to the Golden Gate Bridge, they should touch down just beyond the bay, but
there was still the matter of adjusting their path. Another moan from the floor reminded him that the co-pilot wasn't
strapped in; Jack leaned down, dragged the co-pilot to a sitting position and
heaved him into the pilot's chair. He
reached across the semi-conscious man to fasten him in and strapped himself in.
He activated the intercom to warn the
others. "This is Jack Crusher,
there's a problem onboard the transport.
I'm going to try to land us out of harm's way, but you should strap
yourselves in. It's probably not going
to be a very smooth landing."
He ran a quick inventory of ship's
systems, frantically looking for a way to maneuver the ship. Stabilizers were still operational so he
shut them down, sending the ship into a roll.
Turning them on and off, he eventually managed to stop the ship in an
inverted position. With the door now on
the port side, he depressurized the main compartment which forced the transport
six degrees to the starboard. The
sensors confirmed that the change was enough to avoid any land masses so he
used the stabilizers to right the transport just in time to cut the
engines. There was nothing more to do
but wait.
Instinctively, he held his breath as he
watched the Pacific Ocean looming closer and closer in the front viewport. Bracing himself for the impact, his eyes closed
but opened in confusion a moment later when he didn't feel the shuttle hit the
water. The grid lines of a holodeck
greeted him along with the co-pilot, now standing and making notes on a PADD. "What . . . who . . . how?"
"I'm Commander Skinner, Mr. Crusher,
we're on a holodeck at the Academy testing facility."
Jack looked around, still trying to make
sense of the events of the past few moments.
"This was a test?"
"Yes, the psychological test; based
on the interviews and personality inventories you've filled out, we created a
situation that would exploit your weaknesses to see how you'd react."
"Talk about literally crashing and
burning," he muttered under his breath, adrenaline still racing through
his body from the simulation.
Commander Skinner shook his head. "Quite the contrary, you stayed calm and didn't give up in
spite of the obstacles and limitations of the situation; your actions were chosen
to minimize damage and potential loss of life."
"Kobayashi Maru," Jack exclaimed,
that program was legendary.
"You will face that simulation
eventually," the commander replied.
"But this is a civilian version designed specifically for you to
test your psychological stability under pressure. Your greatest fear is that your best is not good enough, but you
showed here that you give your best regardless of circumstances and,
ultimately, that's all we can ask of any Starfleet officer. By the way, I do appreciate your taking the
time to strap me in for the landing, very thoughtful of you."
Jack exhaled slowly, the shaking starting
to pass. "Don't mention it."
"Starfleet Academy takes only the
best and brightest of its applicants," the commander explained,
"hence the testing we put all of you through. You aren't expected to know everything before you enter the
Academy since knowledge can be taught.
Similarly physical conditioning can be taught provided you have the
ability to pass basic requirements. The
one thing nobody can teach is heart, that you either have or you don't. Congratulations, Mr. Crusher and welcome to
Starfleet Academy."
**FINIS**