"Planning For The Future"

[Cptn Moose 0]

"Planning For The Future"

Captain's Log, Stardate 10302.25

 

You pay a price for ignoring protocols.  I'm learning this lesson the hard way.  But standing on principle is never easy, even in the best of times.  And our current situation is anything but that.

 

Lo'Ami has left the ship, along with Stardust and Kawalas in the Chocolate Moose.  His analysis of our position required an up-close examination.  But as he left to take the shuttle, I realized too late the wisdom in ranking the crew based on their expandability.

 

Alces is still incapacitated, and although Vortex, Gates and the others in Science are all capable researchers, none of them share Alces' gift for scientific intuition.  None save Lo'Ami.  If Alces remains in his current state, Lo'Ami is the one most likely to find our way home.  And I just allowed him to leave the ship because I was too stubborn to value one life over another.  Dr. Virax was right, my carelessness put us in this position, and I won't rest easy until the shuttle returns.

 

Listen to me, still talking as if Virax was really here.  I knew she had served on the Arcadia under my duplicate, Ambassador Moose, and that she had stayed on after he had left.  I also knew she was missing, presumed dead, on the same mission that rescued Alces and his crew from the Devil's Nebula.  What I hadn't realized was that she had actually served with members of the current crew, and how much of an affect she had on them.  I was truly touched by Hayden's sadness at her memory.  Virax did not make friends easily.  But I wasn't too surprised.  Hayden is an excellent judge of character.

 

I suppose it was Hayden that brought my own memories of Virax to the forefront of my consciousness.  Before I knew it, she was sitting in my quarters and I was actually arguing with her, as I had done so often in the past.

 

"You have always had a lack of regard for authority," she said.  It was such a clear memory that she seemed real.  And it was so detailed: the stern frown on her mouth, the piercing eyes, even the functional haircut.

 

"I have plenty of regard for authority," I argued back, actually out loud.  "I just don't suffer fools gladly."

 

"Survival protocols were designed by people who were not currently experiencing the stress of a disaster.  You are the fool to debate their logic while so emotionally close to the situation they describe."  One of her eyebrows  was cocked slightly higher than the other, daring me to disagree.

 

"It's too soon to rank the crew in order of their importance," I insisted.  "Every life is equal, and they're all equally in my care.  We're all going home.  I won't pick who stays and who goes."

 

She stared at me, unmoving, and I stared back at her.  I would have sworn that I could hear her breath, the forceful exhalation serving as the only sign of disapproval she would allow to escape.  "So tell me, when will it be time?" she challenged.

 

"I'm not sure," I replied.  "I'll know when it's time."

 

"Will it be when the first crewman dies?  Or the first ten?  Or when half the crew is gone?  Resources diminish geometrically, and soon your environment will fail to support so many beings.  It may only cause one death the first day.  It may only two the next, provided you have a thrifty officer skilled in environmental management, and they weren't one of the first to go.  But if your death toll doubles each day, and you wait until half of the crew is gone before you act, it will be too late.  You will have only one day left to save everyone, and your carelessness will have put them in that position."

 

Her words stung, and I stung back.  "Is that why you wandered away from your crewmates in the Devil's Nebula?  Did you decide that you were more expendable than they were?  Look where it got you."

 

If my comment upset her she didn't answer.  She sat there staring at me, motionless.  I turned to pick up my coffee, and was startled as my hand passed through the cup.  I cursed.  I had been solid for days now.  I was certain that my molecular cohesion had been restored by the Vogarts.  But then I realized that this was different.  This time, the cup vanished as my hand went through it.  I'd never affected objects before.  I hadn't discorporated.  It was the cup that wasn't solid.  I turned to share this with Virax, but she was gone like the cup.  It was all in my head.

 

Not all of it though.  Although she was still as insufferable in my mind as she had been in person, once again Virax was right.  I knew it was time; time to plan for the worse ... time to decide who I needed to protect and who I could allow to take risks.

 

One thing was certain.  If he returned, Lo'Ami was not leaving the ship again.  Alces on the other hand ...

 

Cptn Moose

USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E