— USS Andromeda, Warp Theory Lab —

The number of scientists standing and staring at the screen on the wall unsettled Lieutenant Eshita Das. None of them had yet to come up with any ideas as to why neither they nor the USS Falcon could break through beyond Warp Three. Even with the Andromeda’s scanners working overtime they also had no theories as to why they could not raise a single ship or station beyond the solar system. 

“It’s like someone threw a big heavy blanket over us,” said Lieutenant Óskar Erosarson. He was an anthropologist and was just there because he had nothing better to do and was waiting to go to lunch with Das, but despite not knowing much about warp or the physics of the universe his analogy was apt. 

“You’re saying this is man-made?” Lieutenant Randolph McKenzie asked, he was the Chief Communications Officer, and there because there was a chance that the two phenomena were related.  

“Yeah, like a blanket. You can’t see through it, you can’t move properly,” Erosarson said shrugging.

Das put her hand on her forehead, “Okay, let’s break. Come back at sixteen hundred hours, we’ll each work up a theory and present it.”

“Even my theory?” Erosarson asked.

“No, not the giant blanket theory,” Das said and dismissed the others. She grinned at the anthropologist as the pair of them headed towards the nearest lounge where they had actual chefs making actual food. “It was a cute theory though.”

“You just need some out-of-the-box thinking. You know the Sherlock Holmes line, ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’ It’s like that, think outside the blanket,” Erosarson said, only half joking.

“I’ve thought outside of the box before,” protested Das, “In fact this one time in the academy…”

— San Fransisco, Starfleet Academy Kobayashi Maru Simulator, The Past —

Lieutenant Commander Huffington looked at the cadets as he spoke slowly in his southern drawl, “Now I know you all know that Admiral Kirk defeated the Kobayashi Maru. I know you’re all thinking you’ll be the next person to do that. Let me tell you, it’s been updated and nobody has passed it since. The point isn’t passing it, it’s to test you under pressure and to put you into a situation where there are negative consequences.”

A cadet raised his hands, “What if we don’t believe in a no-win scenario?”

Huffington rolled his eyes, “There are fools who don’t believe in transporters, but if they want to pass the Academy they still got to learn about them. You’re not always going to have a horseshoe up your ass like Kirk did and even he still had his first officer and son killed so I’d call that no-win.”

It was clear to Cadet Eshita Das that this was a conversation that the Lieutenant Commander running the Kobayashi Maru simulation had been a part of several times before. Everyone was the hero in their own story, and nobody wanted to think that there was something possible for someone in the past that they could not do as well. Everyone clearly thought that they were the next Kirk, even if the scenario had been updated to remove the potential for reprogramming to ‘cheat’.

Or at least enough people to make the conversation a requirement each time he ran the simulation. 

Das had done all the studying that was possible, even to the point of reading the history of the simulation. She’d read all about the changes made after Kirk’s victory, and about the time period where they’d edited out the Klingons to be politically correct and less threatening to a new ally. They’d added them back a few years later, the Klingons being a hard people to insult. She had studied it from each possible angle and then she’d served in the simulated bridge crew last year as the Chief Science Officer.

Now it was her turn to take the center chair. Or it would be in about four hours when it was actually her turn, the cadets having drawn random lots to see what order they would go in. She spent her time waiting pacing in the Academy quad. Cadets weren’t allowed to watch their classmates attempts, though each of them had served on the bridge crew the previous year and could watch replays of previous years’ cadets. 

Then with her stomach in knots, it was her turn. She was already waiting outside the simulator’s door when Lieutenant Commander Huffington called her on her commbadge. A crew of younger students who were making up that year’s bridge crew were already seated at their stations. 

The simulated ship’s view screen showed the stranded ships in the Klingon neutral zone. The Klingon Warbirds appeared, and the cadet at comms reported the incoming distress calls.

Feigning a confidence that she did not feel Cadet Das ordered what was essentially known as the Picard Maneuver, a technique to make it appear as if there were two of her ships, allowing her to rescue the stranded passengers before the Klingons understood what was happening.

It was novel and out-of-the-box thinking. The thing with Klingons though is that they do not much care if there is one or two ships, and will fire upon however many enemy vessels there are. As the training ship dropped shields to quickly beam out the passengers three photon torpedoes slammed into it. The simulation shook and then the lights which had been dimmed to simulate a ‘red alert’ came up as the simulation ended.

“You and your crew are dead,” Huffington said from the observation area. He made a note on the PADD and nodded, “Please exit the simulation. You may sign up for further trials starting next week.”

Sheepishly Das exited, passing one of her classmates on their way in to similarly fail. 

That evening in the pub down the street from her dormitory she was drinking with her roommate, a slightly older Vulcan who had taken the test the year before. He nodded listening as Das recounted her failing.

“I was thinking outside the box,” Das said.

The Vulcan thought and shook his head, “No you were copying the techniques of a well-known Admiral. It was unconventional at the time that it was originally used, but now it is well known both by Starfleet and other powers. We all fail the test, but you did not fail on your terms, you failed on Admiral Picard’s.”

“You’re saying I should think inside the box?” Das asked, puzzled.

“I am saying we all fail at times. What is important is if you’re failing in a manner that you believe is best. The question is is the ‘Picard Maneuver’ the best that you can do?” 

It was two weeks later when Das next took the center seat in the simulator. She had decided that if she was going to fail, it was going to be her own way. The simulation started, the Warbirds appeared, as did the stranded vessel. The lights dimmed and the simulation began.

Turning to her left Das said, to the student standing in for a chief science officer, “Flood the area with neutron particles. Make it hard for the Klingons to see, release everything we have.”

The younger student nodded, and reported, “We’ve flooded the area.”

Das directed the ship into a spot beside the passenger ship, using it to block the Klingons, and had the shields dropped. While her plan bought her a bit more time the Klingons saw through the distortion and fired on her ship. The simulation’s lights came up and it ended.

Lieutenant Commander Huffington said, “Your entire crew has died.”

Das nodded, sighing as she flopped back into the chair, “I know.”

Sometimes, Das knew, that even if you were outside of the box there was no way to win. But at least she’d failed on her own terms, and not by copying someone else.