Posted by Lieutenant Commander Faye Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Holodeck 1- The Trials of Command
It was not her first simulation. But it was the first time she had used the Athena specifically and it was the first time on the simulated bridge.

Sure steps carried her to the centre and Faye eyed the middle chair. With a small steadying breath, she turned and took a seat, crossing her legs and resting her arms on the arms of the chair, relaxed hands curled over the ends. Serena and her had agreed to meet at 1300 hours, but she wanted to play with this a little bit first. It was 1230 hours. “Computer, run Command Training Module Thirteen-Bee. Simulation Two.”

A chirp ensued and the scene changed with other people at the key stations. In order to pass the module and move to the next, she needed to score at least seventy-five percent. Studying was not a problem for her. She had passed every single written test with flying colours (yay for a near eidetic memory!) but the practical stuff, the parts that required her building skills as a future first officer and, eventually, captain, were… harder. The simulations had set parameters and it allowed a range of responses that could be correct, so long as you reached certain outcomes. The problem she was finding as she got into the more advanced modules was that her natural instincts did not net her the scores she needed. It was frustrating. It was like being told, ‘Go be your awesome self,’ and then find the answer really is, “oops, that’s too much for us. Do it this more predictable way, please and thank you.’ She wanted to scream some days. Which is why she had asked Serena to help her with the next module. She wished Alex could be here, and they did talk regularly, but in the moments when she needed more direct guidance, he was in a different quadrant and that presented logistical issues.

Twenty minutes later, the bridge was cast in a the pulsing light of a red alert. The ship shook and Faye rocked in her seat. The unknown assailant was really pissed off it seemed (for reasons they could not establish), and all the standard responses (like hailing, evasive maneuvers, and trying to get the heck out of there) were either not productive or no longer an option. Fighting back was working in as far as they were still alive (though they had lost warp and impulse was getting iffy), but it was not getting them anything else. Their orders were to stay put and wait for backup. There was classified info involved and Faye didn’t have access (in reality, that would not have been the case, but she was going with it). That was about to change.

If she could just figure out what they wanted, they maybe they could figure this out before the ship was torn apart by the other ship’s strangely superior fire power. “Stand down phasers. Prepare to drop shields,” Faye said, rising to her feet and moving to the back workstations.

“Captain?” the XO said, unease in his voice that everyone else heard but was oblivious to Faye. She stopped, shot him a look, and kept moving. She had given her orders and she expected them followed.

Faye sat at one of the engineering consoles, laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. Taking in a steadying breath, she brought up the files they could not access and a sly smile played across her lips. Then her fingers moved. Fast. How dare they keep info from her and then tell her to sit there and take a beating. Ridiculous! She had hundreds of lives to consider.

The engineer who had vacated the seat for her watched, and her mouth dropped open. “Ma’am, are you hacking into Intelligence files?”

Faye grinned, her eyes never leaving the screen as code flew down the screen. “Sure am! Watch and learn. Commander Henson, drop shields. Send our friends over there a message that I will be coming over to see them very shortly. If they could kindly hold off from blowing us up before then, I’d be grateful.”

The bridge crew looked stunned for a moment and then quietly executed her orders, though they all wore expressions that questioned her sanity.

Far too easily, the file’s security lockouts fell apart and she was in. “Huh,” was all she said as she read the info they weren’t deemed important enough to know. Some of it was… fair, but also something they could have made use of.

Rising to her feet, she eyed Henson. “Commander, I have what I need. Have a medical team at Transporter Room One and have the transporter chief ready to beam over several people. I’ll see you shortly.” She spun on her heel and entered the turbolift, leaving a stunned bridge crew behind. She didn’t have time to fill them in- they’d have to trust her.

The program paused and then faded to the holodeck grid. “Simulation complete. Final score, sixty-eight percent.” Faye let out a growl of frustration and was tempted to change to a program where she could go bash things. “Computer, break down score.” With the results, her frown turned to a dark glare aimed at the oblivious computer. She had gained points for ingenuity, but was docked a whole heap for the numerous infractions and outright regulation breakage.

Instead of creating damage, she flopped onto the floor, took off her boots, and crossed her legs. Then Faye attempted to meditate. Attempt being the operative word here.

~Faye Calloway, CIO

Serena let the silence stretch a moment before stepping out of the shadows near the archway. “Yeah… the sim modules don’t handle unorthodox problem-solving very well. They’re written to reward predictability, not results.”

=^=Computer were the candidate’s clearances taken into consideration for the sim?=^=

The computer buzzed for a split second as it worked through the request. =^=The candidate’s clearances were not considered at the start of the simulation.=^=

She tilted her head looking toward the ceiling and disembodied machine voice. =^=Computer, recalculate score. Adjust parameters for officer Calloway’s current Intelligence clearances.=^=

A pause. Then the computer’s neutral tone came back. =^=Recalculated score: eighty-three percent.=^=

Serena folded her arms. “Thought so. These programs default to ‘generic lieutenant commander.’ They’re not built to account for someone who’s already seasoned Intel.”

She moved closer, lowering her voice just enough for only Faye to catch. “And between you and me, Intel officers are usually graded more on ‘results’ than ‘proper procedure.’ Forgiveness over permission, remember?”

Lt. Cmdr. Stone, Executive Officer