LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL FROM: Thometz, G., Admiral, Commandant, Star Fleet Academy, San Francisco, USNA, Earth TO: Kirk, James T., Admiral, Star Fleet Command, commanding NCC-1701 ENTERPRISE, on active-mission status (via: Star Fleet Command/Deneb: scrambled/Captain's Seal: hold for arrival: routing code EFTO70137226012144030951852SF/FSIG) SUBJECT: ADVANCED CADET-EVALUATION MATERIALS Sir: You will be pleased to know that Star Fleet Command has chosen the Enterprise's recovery of the USS Robert A. Heinlein during the second five-year mission as the model for the new cadet-performance evaluation exercise at Star Fleet Academy, Earth and Star Fleet Academy, Deneb, supplementing the "Kobayashi Maru" scenario. (Star Fleet Academy, Vulcan is presently evaluating the supplement to see that it meets their logic standards, and Admiral T'Kaien's office assures me of a decision within several standard weeks.) You have not been the only commander to point out the Academy's urgent need for a subtler and more complex evaluation scenario than the one offered by the "Maru." While administering the "no-win" scenario gives us a good preliminary sense of who our potential heroes are, it leaves untested those qualities in a commander that are as important as heroism but less spectacular: namely, observation, accurate evaluation, and multi-level "synthesis" -- not to mention sheer endurance, empathy, and humor. The Enterprise's recovery-mission scenario gives us ample opportunity to test for all of these, in depth. And since the mission results were (naturally) never declassified, the effectiveness of the material as a means of testing the command aptitude and intelligence of new cadets should be very high indeed. I suspect that some of Fleet's eagerness to implement this new scenario has to do with the fact during the past year three more cadets have broken the old "Kobayashi Maru" scenario---and only one of them used methods similar to yours. (This information is to be treated as confidential until further notice.) Apparently, cadets are getting smarter. Or perhaps the no-win scenarios of the past are no longer a sufficient match for the deviousness (and resourcefulness) of the present. At any rate, we need to prepare our cadets for reality, not fantasy. Both the despair of the pure no-win scenario and the equally dangerous elation of the "no-lose" attitude lie mostly in the latter category. We look for good results from the new scenario, for it concerns the real-life, "gray" area between those two attitudes. Administration methods will vary. The test may be conducted via sleep learning or in computer simulation. Star Fleet Academy, Earth will be administering it aboard the new training ship USS Sans Souci. I am enclosing a copy of the computer version for you to evaluate. Please feel free to make any suggestions you think will improve the usefulness of this scenario as a test for future starship captains. Sincerely, Admiral G. Thometz, Commandant Star Fleet Academy, Earth (P.S.: Let's see them cheat on this one, huh, Jim? Also, 'Eliake sends her regards. Best, Greg) BRIEFING Transcript of disk SFC/SFAMK2 #664658: Audio/sleep-learning cadet preparation session. Authorized personnel only. (CAUTION: Full Vulcan cadets should not take the direct-experiential version of this briefing, due to the presence of species-idiosyncratic emotional reactions.) The communicator whistles right into your ear. The dream you were having about hiking in the Grand Canyon falls right out of your head as your eyes snap open. You lie there staring at the ceiling for just long enough to let your heart rate slow down a little, then sit up and swing out of bed, hitting the communicator switch. "Kirk here. This had better be good, Lieutenant." "It may not be good, sir," says the dry voice of the duty communications officer, "but it's important. Eyes-only dispatch from Star Fleet." You groan softly to yourself and sit up a little straighter, just enough so that you can reach the keyboard by the bed and type in the long string of characters that will give the comm officer access to your command ciphers. "Have the computer send it down here." "Aye, aye, sir." You wait a few seconds. The communications officer wakes up your desk screen by remote, then switches off. "Voiceprint," says the desk computer. You say your name. "Retinal," says the computer. You hold still and let the low-power laser flicker in your eye. Without further ceremony the desk screen fills up with print, amber on black. **************************************************************** * URGENT * URGENT * URGENT * URGENT * URGENT * URGENT * URGENT * **************************************************************** From: SFC, EARTH VIA SFC, DENEB TOP SECRET/EFTO/SC937-0176CEC To: JAMES T. KIRK, CAPT. (COMMANDING) From: NHAURIS RIHAUL, ADM., SFC, DENEB Subject: SPECIAL MISSION ORDERS TEXT: U.S.S. Heinlein, on exploratory mission in Trianguli area, has fallen out of communication under what we consider suspicious circumstances. Routine hourly telemetry squirts ceased without explanation twelve hours ago. Appended to these orders is the contents of a single unscheduled squirt that came to us via an unusual routing --- dumped to a robot communications satellite near Gama Trianguli, apparently by high-powered communications tachyon packet beam. You are to evaluate the contents of the telemetry squirt and report immediately at maximum warp to the Heinlein's last known position, which is indicated in the squirt. WARNING: Heinlein was persuing a mission, the objectives of which are highly sensitive and have not yet been declassified for any personnel except those of Star Fleet Command, Earth Fleet Admiral's Office. This mission material will be available to you as soon as declassification procedures are completed. Address any inquiries to Star Fleet Command, Earth. (Respectfully) NHS. Rihaul, Admiral, Star Fleet Command, Deneb **************************************************************** You sag a little where you sit, letting out a worried sigh as the screen scrolls down and adds: **************************************************************** P.S.: Jim --- Stay out of trouble. You're going to be a long way from help. Best, Nhauris. **************************************************************** "Stop," you say to the screen as you get up and head for the closet to get into uniform. Damn, you think. Sulu has the Heinlein. What's he gotten himself into now? Brand-new ship. And you were the one who recommended him for this temporary command assignment. When one of command rank with sufficient knowledge of the Trianguli sector was available, he was the perfect choice. You thought he'd just ride around for a few weeks, enjoy the scenery, and not get himself right into trouble. You pull the uniform top over your head and sit down at the desk. "Go," you say to the computer. "Appended," it says. "Visual and audio content." "Ready. Go." The text vanishes. Part of the screen begins reading out printed telemetry, the ongoing status of a starship's main function boards. The rest of it fills with an image of the ship's bridge. The Heinlein is one of the newer light-cruisers and, though the bridge is a touch smaller than the Enterprise's, it's sleeker, neater. Banks of switches have been replaced by light-controlled relays or motion sensors; screens are bigger and clearer: the fore screen looks more like a picture window, one that you could walk right out of and into the stars drifting slowly toward you. You look past the helm, at that screen. Sitting in the center seat is a lithe young form, with his back to you. You know that back well, having stared at it for so many years when you were sitting where he is now. But he's not so young anymore, and very straight he sits in his own center seat, superbly self-assured. He is staring at the contents of the screen intently. "Don't lose it, Michael," he says softly. "You lose it, I promise you I'll dock your pay." The navigator looks over his shoulder for a second. Wearing the slightest grin, he says, "Sir, this fish is hooked. Eighteen light-years and closing." "Screens," says Sulu. "Deployed," says the helmsman, glancing over her board. "At full intensity." "Phasers---" "Ready, sir." "Don't get trigger-happy, Brynne. They're just in case." "Noted, sir," says the helmsman. But you notice that her fingers are twitching a bit --- the way Sulu's used to, once upon a time. Despite the building tension, you smile a little. "Target at sixteen light-years," says the navigator. "Identification yet?" "Not close enough, sir." "I want to know who that is," Sulu says softly, "and what they're doing here so close to what we just passed." "Target's accelerating, sir! Warp five now --- warp six ---" "Oh, no you don't," Sulu says. "Catch him. Maneuvers at your discretion. Mr. Wilhelmsen, hail him. Ask him politely to stop and be identified." "Warp seven now, sir," says the navigator, and the ship moans softly in its bones as it leans into higher speed. You lean forward a little with it. Stars stream by the screen faster. And up there in the darkness, just barely visible, something shines. "Visual!" says the comm officer. "No response to hails." "All right," Sulu says, not sounding entirely regretful, "we'll do this the hard way. Rhia, what do its engines' power-consumption curves look like? Can you get a fix on them?" -- and your insides jump in terror as the screen whites out, as the ship lurches madly and people caught entirely unaware spill onto the floor as the Heinlein's automatic red-alert sirens begin wailing like banshees, as the moaning of the ship's engines gets alarmingly loud. Sulu is still in his helm --- how, you can't imagine, shouting orders, hearing answers back before he finishes them. "--- five ships --- six --- eight now ---" "--- fore screens down to forty percent, sir!" "--- fire at will ---" "--- hull pressure ---" "--- explosive decompression!" "--- seal down decks five and eight ---" "--- Wil, dump the log three ways, hurry it -- packet the top to the nearest station and load the buoys with the rest -- no, even better, just one buoy ---" "Star Fleet Command, Deneb, this is Heinlein ---" "--- twelve of them, sir ---" "What are they? who are they?!" "--- can't even ---" "--- hull pressure ---" "--- starboard nacelle ---" And then comes another terrible explosion and crash and flinging of bodies about. Visual goes down, leaving you with a screen two-thirds black, the rest displaying frantic and deranged readouts from science station, helm, navigations: all systems near failure, life support going, matter-antimatter reaction near critical --- and the voices, the terrible voices, confused, desperate, brave: "--- come on, Wil, move it!" "--- phasers ---" "--- tubes are crushed, no use ---" "--- Star Fleet, Deneb, do you read? U.S.S. Heinlein ---" And worst of all, Sulu's voice, flavored with something you've never heard in it before --- despair. "Oh, my god ---" A scream; then nothing but black noise, the complacent hiss of uninvolved stars. And even the telemetry dies. "End file," says the screen. You have to hold still for a few seconds, again, to let your heart slow. "Bridge," you say then. "Bridge. Lieutenant Renner." "Get me Star Fleet," you say. "And once you've done that, recall the special-missions crew. We've got trouble." "Yes, sir" Sulu... you think. "Any other orders, sir?" You think about that too. THE CREW Cadets may wish to review the histories and careers of the principal Enterprise special-missions command crew. Although much of this information is common knowledge among Star Fleet personnel, cadets of species in which latency has occured recently (plus/minus ten standard years) may not be familiar with the qualifications of the command crew of the Enterprise. For their benefit, and to dispel many rumors (justified or not), a brief career history of each crew member is included. (Excerpted from Who's Who in the Federation, revised edition. Reproduced by permission, Marquis, Who's Who Interstellar, Earth/Vulcan/Deneb V.) ADMIRAL JAMES T. KIRK Admiral (Commanding) James T. Kirk: A legend in his own time; soldier, diplomat, and student of history; past and present commander of a ship whose name is synonymous with bold adventure; born Iowa, U.S.A., 28 July 2132; graduated Star Fleet Academy with highest honors; relieved Captain Christopher Pike and served as captain of U.S.S. Enterprise for the duration of her second five-year mission; promoted to commodore, then admiral, and assigned to Star Fleet Command, San Francisco, Earth; reassigned to the refitted Enterprise at the time of the Vejur crisis; now commanding Enterprise for special exploratory, diplomatic, and interventional missions; adviser to the Federation Council on Interspecies Affairs; Chairman, Cadet Commandant's Training Studies Group, Star Fleet Academy, Terra. CAPTAIN SPOCK CAPT. Spock First Officer and Science Officer, USS Enterprise Half-vulcan - WEIGHT: 170 lbs. at 1g Typical Vulcan physiology: Two hearts and manganese based blood cells. Special attributes: Contact telepathy; scientist and mathematician of galactic repute. Captain Spock: An inseparable part of the Enterprise legend; galactically renowned scientist, research mathematician, and computer specialist; serving for these missions as First Officer and Science Officer; born ShiKahr, Vulcan, 56 Tasmeen, 503 VSD; graduated Star Fleet Academy with highest honors; assigned to Enterprise during Captain Christopher Pike's command; associated with her ever since, excluding a period spent on sabbatical on Vulcan after the second five-year mission; returned to service aboard Enterprise during the Vejur crisis; promoted to captain shortly thereafter; assisting Star Fleet in designing the courses and curricula to be used when the Enterprise becomes a training ship; currently in special-mission service.