The BLTS Archive - Natural Selection
The Life & Times of Jack Crusher II
by Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)

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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.

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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."

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continued in The Life & Times of Jack Crusher Three 'Failure to Communicate'