I was given a rather new star ship called the USS Silicimilitus with a rather generic crew: I didn’t know anyone on board. But that may have been for the best.
We were going through our part of the galaxy, fighting off what looked like chocolate covered raisins. We managed to keep them at bay with our photon torpedoes, but there were just too many of the little buggers.
The engineer looked up from his console and exclaimed, “Captain, we’re all out of torpedoes!”
These small beings continued to approach the ship’s hull. In an attempt to keep them away from the ship, I ordered “Shields up!”
”Aye, Captain,” my tactical officer responded as he poured over his console.
But the raisins continue throwing themselves at our hull. They managed to cut through and into the engineering decks.
As air was sucked slowly into space, another larger raisin clogged the hole by throwing his body into the breach. The rest of the raisins started stoning the engineering crew unconscious and started after the engines.
Back on the bridge, my engineer realized we were in some serious trouble. He stood up straight from his engineering panel and faced me. “Captain, I’m sorry, but we have no choice, we must use them!”
I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. “Are you sure?” I asked. “It gives me a total headache – to say nothing of the paperwork.”
He shook his head apologetically. “It’s all we have left.”
”But they are only for desperate situations,” I said.
”I’d say this is pretty desperate, Captain,” he answered, pointing at all the warnings going off on our panels.
I sighed wearily in resignation. ”Ok, let’s do it,” I responded after a momentary pause. “Send in VanHalen.”
At this time, VanHalen was released from a secret compartment where they were kept for safe keeping. And not even doing a sound a check, they began rocking the engineering deck with the solo from Eruption.
It wasn’t three notes and the raisins began writhing in pain and in less than a minute, they began blowing up.
As the engineering crew began waking up to the sounds of Eddie’s solo, they found themselves covered in dead raisin goo. It was quite a task of cleaning Engineering and patching the hull. But they seemed not to mind with the rockin’ sounds of a VanHalen encore.
Later, on the bridge, while slogging through the associated “Emergency Rock Band Use Extension 5479(c)(1)” form, the command crew sat around with nothing to do.
But then, the communications officer lifted her head and piped up: “Captain, I’m receiving a message on the distress channel. “
”Put it on speakers, lieutenant.” I reply. A foreign voice crackled over the speakers:
“…Imperative!...This is the Kobayashi Maru, nineteen periods... out of Altair Six...We have struck...a gravitic mine...and have lost all power….Our hull is penetrated and we have sustained many casualties…”
The lieutenant responded, trying to hail them again. “This is This is the Starship Silicimilitus . Your message is breaking up. Can you give us your coordinates? Repeat. This is the Starship...”
“…Silicimilitus , our position is Gamma…Hydra, Section Ten...Hull...penetrated, life support... systems failing...Can you assist us...Silicimilitus?...Can you assist us?!
“Punch up data on the Kobayashi Maru,” I say.
“Subject vessel is a third class neutronic fuel carrier created for a fictional scenario within a Star Fleet Academy training exercise. No known vessel actually exists.”
“What?” I exclaim.
”It appears this may be a trap, Captain,” my science officer explained.
"Or a practical joke," I added.
Rubbing my chin, I look at the communication’s officer, ”Lieutenant, tell the ship that we are experiencing a power drop off and that we will get there as soon as we can,” I said. “Then we'll figure out what to do.”
”Yes,” I said to my command officers, “I believe you are right.” I turned to face the screen, looking at Neutral Zone sitting before us. “And while I don’t really like using them, I must admit they are quite effective: put Van Halen on a shuttle and send them to the Kobayashi Maru.”
It was not very long and Eddie, David and the rest of the band members had been prepped, briefed and put on their way.
Some time later, we received a hail from some incoming ships.
”It’s four galaxy class cruisers: Enterprise, Glamdring, Essex and Falcon,” she answered.
I looked at her strangely then to rest of the command officers. “I thought we were the only ship in this sector? That’s what they said, right?”
”Yes, Captain,” my science officer responded. “But I think they secretly sent us with some backup just in case we got into some trouble.”
I just nodded and smiled out of one corner of my mouth. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to get into some trouble,” I said under my breath. “Put them on the screen, Lieutenant. “
On the screen came the pleasant face of Jean-Luc Picard, “Captain…er…Nepharia, we are here to render whatever aid you might need,” he said.
”Hi Jean-Luc,” I responded, smiling equally as pleasant. “How nice to see you again. Drew short straws for babysitting duty, did you?”
”Ah, well,” he stammered, “truth be told, I volunteered.”
I did not conceal my pleasant surprise at his admission. “Really now? Why is that?” I said, still smiling.
”To be honest, Nepharia,” he answered, “I knew you’d be spoiling for a fight and would probably be more than happy to go looking for one.”
”Aw, Jean-Luc,” I chided, “I didn’t know you cared.”
”I know you can handle yourself, Nepharia,” he explained, “But your crew may be less responsive than others you are accustomed to.”
I smiled again and was about to say something, when I was interrupted by my communications officers. I noticed that Data also interrupted Jean-Luc with news about an incoming hail.
I turned to the Lieutenant in question. “Captain, we are receiving an incoming transmission from the Kobayashi Maru.”
”On screen,” I answered, wondering what it could be. The pleasant face of Jean-Luc was replaced by an astonishing scene.
”Good heavens, Nepharia,” Jean-Luc said over the speakers, “What in Neptune is that?”
I offered a wide smile. “That would be Van Halen,” I answered.
”Oh, no,” he replied, disappointed. “You honestly didn’t use them, did you? You’ll be buried in paperwork for weeks!” he said.
”Absolutely,” I said, “And they’ve whipped those Klingon’s into a frenzy. I’d say it’s time to go in, beam the band out, and start kicking some Klingon ass.”
”Nepharia….” Jean-Luc began, but was interrupted by Worf.
”Nepharia,” the Klingon warrior said, “If a Klingon sought to bait you into a fight with the Kobayashi Maru trick, then you owe it to him to kick his ass.”
I looked at Captain Picard, who sighed in resignation. “What are your orders, Captain?”
”Follow me,” I said.
It was a blood bath. And a good day for Klingons to die. I bet they don’t try that again for a while.