Heroes Live Forever

San Francisco , Earth, 2314

The large sliding door before me, in black metal, was impenetrable and dark. I felt a sense of oppression in my chest, my hands were icy and sweaty, and my knees had changed to jelly.

"Are you ready, Cadet?" asked me Commander Tuliak, whose Vulcan grandmother left evidence only on his physical aspect, his voice, being full of sympathy.

I looked at him with what had to be a terrified expression, because he flashed me an encouraging smile:

"Don't worry, Rachel: I had to face this test, too, and I assure you that, even if it is something memorable, it isn't that bad as they say."

His words cheered me up considerably:

"Thank you, sir", I said, "I'm ready."

I wasn't ready at all, but I was sure that I would never be, and therefore it was better to put an end to that torment as soon as possible, facing head first, as it was my style, anything infamous that the Kobayashi Maru test truly was.

The double shutter door opened in front of me with an hydraulic hiss, revealing the holographic recreation of the bridge deck of an Excelsior class spacecraft, whose name was Aldebaran, as the plate to the side of the turboelevator testified, from which I apparently came in.

Not holograms but senior officers of Starfleet Academy were at the various stations, among them some of my instructors; the captain's chair was empty.

"Captain on bridge!", Lieutenant Moratti, in charge of the communications, immediately announced, and all stiffened to attention. I looked behind me, but the door of the hologram suite had already closed and I saw only the turboelevator.

For all the bloody lightings of Jupiter, I thought, it begins easily. What the hell they were expecting from a cadet, thrown at the command of an Excelsior class ship, I really didn't know.

"At ease, sirs", I said weakly, and the bridge deck officers got back to their jobs.

I stared at the captain's chair and breathed carefully: it wasn't the first time I sat on it, in a simulation, but it never happened as the captain.

An ensign approached me, handing me a Di-PADD.

"The report on the replicators, sir", he said.

Fine, I thought, at least there's something I know.

"Unlike the regulations, Ensign, I don't want to be called sir", I said, "Captain will do perfectly in any situation."

I found that part of the Starfleet regs totally absurd, and I always intended that, if I ever arrived to command a ship, my subordinates would not use it, with me. And those who invented that rule should go in peace.

"Yes sir... hmmm, Captain", answered the ensign, controlling quickly his surprise. I restrained myself from looking at the face of Lieutenant Moratti, who was my instructor for Communications. He was also the teacher I respected the most, and of course his approval was highly important to me. However, a captain doesn't need the approval of anyone. Therefore, pretending a self-confidence I was far from feeling, I took the Di-PADD and skimmed it rapidly: being all shipshape, I signed it with my initials and gave it back to the ensign, who thanked me with a nod and took leave, exiting the bridge.

The short break had been enough to divert my mind from the anxiety; probably, it had been designed exactly for that purpose. I looked at the captain's chair and I didn't feel so much awe any longer: after all, it would be the crowning achievement of my career as a Starfleet officer, one day... if I proved worthy of it, obviously.