Fic: Observations, Ch 4
We have been aboard the Federation Starship Enterprise for exactly 500 Terran hours. In those 500 hours, we have conducted scientific probes of two potential mining colonies, observed a red giant in its dying phases transform into a white dwarf, delivered medical supplies to the outpost on Theta IX, and rendezvoused with the U.S.S. Potemkin to accompany the crippled vessel back to Starbase 7.
Humans typically require 408 hours in order to completely adapt to their surroundings. The mishaps that occurred regularly during the first 240 hours in space have been reduced significantly as the crew falls into the rhythm of the ship's operations. The captain has also established a routine.
The U.S.S. Enterprise runs by the standard Terran clock, where one 24-hour period is counted as a single day. This decision is logical, given that the crew is 93% human. The three shifts, alpha, beta, and gamma, are each eight hours long, and the schedules are regimented in such a way such that there are eight hours allotted for work, eight hours for sleep, and eight hours for other recreational activities. For most humans, these hours optimize performance without placing undue stress on the mental and physical well-being of the individual.
However, Captain Kirk seems incapable of being "typical” in any respect.
The captain's circadian rhythms function on a 28-hour cycle, and because his days are no longer dictated by the rise and fall of the Terran sun-or more accurately, the rotation rate of the planet-the captain has opted to organize his personal work hours accordingly.
Typically, the captain sleeps for seven hours. After waking, he attends to his basic hygienic needs, and then consumes a light first meal. Following his meal, he briefly checks on the ship's status. If all is satisfactory and nothing requires his immediate attention, he goes to the ship's gymnasium and engages in his exercise regimen for one hour. He takes a sonic shower, dresses in his uniform, and begins the first of his three shifts on duty. The shifts are broken up into intervals of approximately five, five, and four hours, with hour long breaks between shifts for meals. These numbers are not exact, and the captain is liable to change his routine at any time for any reason. However, he consistently is on duty for at least fourteen hours per circadian cycle. The remainder of the time is spent in various forms of recreation.
Just as the captain is incapable of adhering to a normal human schedule, the captain is incapable of sitting still. This is a characteristic unique to James T. Kirk. Admiral Pike was not only able, but preferred, to remain in his command chair for extended periods. Captain Kirk, on the other hand, rarely remains on the bridge for more than fifty minutes. He is constantly moving, visiting the engineering department, discussing measures with the Security Chief Giotto, observing the laboratory activity, inspecting the structure of the ship, conversing with crew members, testing computer terminals, holding conferences with the ship's department heads, organizing various activities-the list is interminable. His ceaseless movement, combined with his unusual schedule, has put him in contact with practically all of the crew, and despite the fact that he does not have an eidetic memory, he now knows 76% of the names and ranks.
I am unable to determine whether this behavior is due to the captain's inexperience in commanding a vessel, or if he will maintain this level of activity throughout our tour of duty.
Furthermore, the captain insists on personally taking part in every mission. Those missions that are usually delegated to their appropriate officers or departments, needing only the formality of the captain’s approval, are all subjected to his oversight. For example, our scientific probes of the planets could easily have been conducted without his presence. Yet Captain Kirk remained on the bridge for the duration of the investigation, though he did not and could not contribute in any way to the procedures. He asked a few questions, but for the most part simply observed, by all appearances standing calmly, confidently, and uselessly on the bridge. When we completed our tasks and departed for our next assignment, he asked to be given a 1000-word summary of the final report.
The oversight is apparently not unwelcome among the human officers. They do not view it as a form of micromanagement, nor do they believe that the captain is questioning their competency and proficiency in fulfilling their tasks. Instead, they feel that it indicates his interest in their projects, and they find it reassuring. This is a surprising assessment, especially given that when I engage in similar actions, humans sometimes become defensive, resentful, and interpret such actions as interference or in extreme cases, a threat.
We are currently en route to our next destination, with estimated time of arrival in 120 hours. Captain Kirk has lately been using his recreational time reading files from the Starfleet archives. I briefly skimmed over the files he has just completed, and most of these reports contain records of disastrous situations and the various solutions attempted. Some of the captain's logs were the last that the starship transmitted before all those on board died. Given the grim nature of these documents, the captain is somewhat subdued. There is no indication, however, that he has suddenly developed a harmful emotional imbalance. If it were so, then Dr. McCoy would forcibly detain the captain for a session of psychological testing and counseling.
I cannot help but think that the captain is planning something. He has a certain expression on his face, a light behind his eyes, that speaks of a scheme forming in the recesses of his mind.
At this exact moment, he is reading the performance evaluations of the Enterprise crew, which I compiled at his request. The instructions were markedly vague: "Just put together a report about all the departments-- stats about their efficiency, accident rates, quality of work, that sort of thing. I want to know your opinion about any strengths, weaknesses, where we can improve in regular, standard conditions. Basically, give me your best analysis and recommendations. And don’t file it with Starfleet-just send it to my computer directly. Think you can do that in, say, five hours?"
I completed the task in four hours and thirteen minutes.
What he plans on doing with this information is unknown to me. His comments indicate that he wishes to improve the performance of the crew, though again, the nature of that improvement and the methods that might be used to achieve it are beyond me. It is only through time and experience that a crew attains peak efficiency. If he seeks to prepare for every emergency situations-which I suspect is more along the captain’s line of thought-then it is a futile endeavor. Emergencies by their very nature are unpredictable, and it is impossible to drill for all crises that might arise on a Constitution Class vessel.
Is this part of an obsession? Captain Kirk’s stance on no-win situations is well known. He has already gained a wide reputation for “making the impossible possible.” This is largely based on his actions in the Narada crisis. A single incident is hardly sufficient data upon which to found such a claim. I am inclined, in the absence of additional data, to count the outcome of those events as a statistical outlier. That is not to say that the captain does not perform well when the odds are decidedly against his favor. Any being claiming sentience can easily observe that he thrives in chaos. However, he is human, finite, mortal, and therefore limited.
At times I wonder if he is aware of this.
This next mission will be the first requiring an away team. The captain has already decided that he will lead the team, and will not be dissuaded from this pursuing this course of action.
“Spock, this is my job as a captain. I’m not going to sit here high above in orbit while my crew is planetside.”
“Captain, this mission does not require your presence on the planet. The risk that some sort of catastrophe will befall the away team, as you seem to irrationally fear, is minimal.”
“I don’t think that they’re going to die down there if I’m not with them-I’m not stupid, Spock. What’s the problem with me going down, if there’s no risk of danger?”
“Standard Starfleet procedure-“
“Yeah, I know, I read that book about all that standard procedure shit. I do things differently.”
“There is a reason that such protocols are established, captain. Starfleet has written these instructions based off years of trial and error, from countless missions undertaken by a diverse range of captains commanding vessels in several different sectors of the galaxy. You, on the other hand, have had scarcely 668 hours commanding this or any other vessel. Your experience in such matters is inadequate, and your decision to disregard these procedures is logically unsound.”
The captain glared at me and made a sound of frustration.
“Fine, all that shit is here for a reason, I never disagreed with that. My point is that if we could run a starship relying only on these nifty Starfleet manuals, we would just program everything into robots and run the ship that way-but we don’t! There might be a reason that Starfleet has ten thousand mandatory steps and two million safety precautions, but there’s also reason why they still have captains and actual people on ships.
“And will you quit throwing in my face the fact that I’m the fucking youngest captain in Starfleet? You’re right, I need experience, don’t think I’m ever going to forget it. But that’s why I’m going on down with the away team on this mission.”
“Starfleet strongly recommends that-“
“Exactly, Starfleet strongly recommends. They never explicitly forbid the captain from being part of the away team because that would just be really idiotic.”
I was about to make a rebuttal, but the captain cut off any further discussion with a curt
“We’re done with this little chat. Commander, meet me in my quarters at 0300.”