Autopsy

Posted on Thu Jul 31st, 2025 @ 9:03pm by Captain T’Kal & Lieutenant Commander David Erickson
Edited on on Thu Oct 9th, 2025 @ 7:52pm

1,611 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: ARYL 1X02: Simulated Pressure
Location: Captain's Office
Timeline: Just after Combat Drills

David had given T'kal a whole sixty seconds of peace before signaling to his backup to replace him and also leaving the bridge. He waited for a second turbolift car and stepped off on Deck Six, walking down the corridor quietly, stopping at her office and ringing the chime.

She had been alone for barely a minute when the door chimed, prompting the Captain to close her eyes and take a deep breath. She wanted whomever it was to leave, but her open door policy did no good if it was tossed away on a whim. "Come."

As the doors opened, he stepped inside and walked over to the couch in her office, sitting down and crossing his legs without being invited. "So, you look pissed," he said, giving her a lopsided smile, then when she glanced at him, shrugged and added "you know, in your own Vulcan way."

"I was going to say..." she replied, one eyebrow arched. "Please, Mr. Erickson, make yourself comfortable," she added, gesturing to the man already on her couch. "Perhaps the Yeoman can get you something." She had been exposed to sarcasm long enough.

David grinned. "You're getting better at that," he said, then let his expression turn sympathetic. "Are you upset that he 'won'?" he said, exaggerating quotation fingers. "Or is it that he's a bit of a prick about it?"

"I am not 'upset'," she shot back, more forcefully than intended. She took another deep breath. In. Out. "There was no negative consequence to losing. This was a training exercise. It is meant to enable learning. It is meant to show us our weaknesses in a safe setting. Where no one gets hurt."

"Oh, now, there is a familiar line," David said. "I recall you saying something similar when I blew my first nav simulation. Remember?" He let his hand swim through the air like a fish. "Steered us right through the Tellar system and scraped the sun, because I didn't account for our relative position once we adjusted course from our previous heading. I nearly put a fist through my console in frustration until you told me that to calm me down. Except then it sounded like you meant it." He gave her a pointed look.

T'Kal closed her eyes and took another thoughtful breath. In. Out. "You became a very good navigator, in time. You learned the lessons well." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "A side career as a Counselor...that might need additional training however."

"I'm not here as a counselor; I'm here as your friend, and friends don't need to be tactful," he said. "You're kicking yourself for what happened. All right, let's go through it, just like we used to do. Lay it out. Let's autopsy this. What exactly are you faulting?"

She nodded. Autopsy. Yes. Break down what happened. Find the source of the problem. As they used to.

She began counting on her fingers. "One, I opened the 'rules of engagement' document and we suffered a cyber attack. Two, I permitted two boarding parties to reach us. Three, I allowed the ship to take several direct hits, resulting in multiple casualties. And four, not least, I allowed the ship to be destroyed by ramming."

"Two and three are a direct result of one," David countered. "Which means they aren't your mistakes, but they are consequences. And I would not say you 'allowed' the ship to be destroyed by them ramming us, they simply took advantage of their position. I would posit that you have committed one significant error, which led to the consequences: you were impatient."

"Vulcans are not impatient," T'Kal said, incensed by the very notion.

"Eyes ahead, Mister Erickson," he said, imitating her tone and cadence. "You cannot plan a route for attack nor escape if you don't know the lay of the land." He raised an eyebrow. "Rothschild barely said hello before you cut him off and went to battle stations, and he took advantage of that by sending you a file you 'forgot.' The rest went from there. No file? No shields down, no boarding parties, no direct hits. Or, at least, fewer direct hits." He shrugged.

He sat back and crossed his legs again, taking a breath. "I think the only saving grace would be that most Klingons aren't savvy enough to attack our computers that way. They prefer direct attacks. That was more of a Romulan move."

She was shocked to find herself brought into student mode by his imitation. She took in what he said. Impatience? She had thought swiftness. Directness. What else was there to discuss? But... perhaps he had a point. There was no rush. They could have thought everything through ahead of time. She would not have been tricked by a document labeled 'rules' if they had been laid out clearly first.

"Do you believe his attitude at the start was meant to make me rush?" she asked. "His smirk and his call for our surrender. You are right, I could have been more patient. Instead, I sought to immediately put an end to his challenge."

"Possibly," David said with a slight shrug. "He had time to plan, time to strategize. We had to improvise. Which, truth be told, is often how it is when you're attacked. However, now that we've addressed the root problem, we should look at the upside. Lieutenant Inda got that virus kicked pretty damn quick," he said, smiling at her name, in spite of the situation. "And security rounded up the boarding parties before they could cause any harm. So we may have gotten a little inconvenienced, but we didn't let it floor us."

"They did do very well," T'Kal observed. "The boarding parties could have done much damage, but they were stopped."

"Which brings us to what may have been a mistake after the exercise," David said.

"After?"

He looked down, finding his words. "You heard how disappointed Valerie sounded," he said, his tone no longer flippant. "She took that move of last resort personally. Then again, she's your First Officer, she's allowed to sound disappointed in herself." He looked back up at her. "You're not an XO anymore. You're the Captain. You have to be that never-look-back, self-assured, 'good-job-everybody' kind of leader that we lowly peons like to snicker at for being so stupidly optimistic." He swallowed. "Instead, you got up and left everyone on the bridge to go to your office and let some lunkhead run his mouth." He mustered up a half grin.

He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "If you want to shoulder this 'failure', then all right, but then you have to make sure you give everyone else a pat on the back first. Gather the senior staff, tell them the reports were glowing about their reaction times or some such, and remind them how proud you are of them. Then come back to your office and we'll drink until you feel better."

She closed her eyes and took that in. Damn him for being right. She had taken their result as a personal failure. The crew had indeed done their best, and had done excellently. The failure was on her, but the way she acted, it was only logical that they would misinterpret her behavior for disappointment in them. Or permit their own self-doubts to grow. That would only hamper their abilities.

She stood up and straightened her uniform. "Thank you," she said, quietly. "In a few moments I am going to walk the ship, clear my head, and meet one-on-one with the senior officers. Tell them how well they did."

David smiled. "Sounds good," he said. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"And when I am done," T'Kal concluded, "I would..." she took a breath as she considered which word wouldn't prompt an annoying line, "...welcome it if you joined me in my quarters for a drink. As we used to. I have a supply of Vulcan port we can open."

"I'll bring the cheese and fruit," David said. "It'll help to drown out my own disappointment."

"Your own disappointment?" she asked. "But you did fantastically."

"Well, how can I not feel disappointed?" he said, his usual impish energy creeping back into his voice. "Here I've gone nearly ten years looking up to you as this God-like paragon of Starfleet perfection," he said, dramatically, then gave her a warm, genuine smile, "only to find out, you're just another fallible mortal; just like the rest of us," he finished, quietly.

Words could not do whatever the Captain was thinking justice. All she could do was stare icily and wait him out.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Captain," he said, adopting his usual 'professional' voice, "my coffee break is about over. I should get to the bridge and make sure Jin hasn't crashed us into anything." He gave a wink and left her office.

In. Out. David Erickson could be infuriating sometimes, but he was correct more often than not. So she would speak with her crew. She would tell them how well they did. She would request feedback. She would learn this lesson. It would be difficult, and the loss of her crew -- hypothetical or not -- was still deeply troubling, but the crew had done very well, and she did have friends to help her through this tough time.

And her friend would explain his strange little smile when he named Lieutenant Inda. Even if it took much port and a mind meld.

END


David Erickson
Not-A-Ship's-Counselor
USS Ark Royal

T'Kal
In-the-Dumps, Uplifted-by-Friends Captain
USS Ark Royal

 

RSS Feed