Lieutenant JG Roy Bancroft - The Line

[Carter Schimpff]

((Holodeck 1 - Deck 2 - USS Artemis-A ))

Storm’s chin tightened. Her eyes sharpened.

The phaser in her hand rose toward Roy with mechanical precision.

Bancroft: oO Shoot me, then. Simulated or not, I will not harm a fellow officer. Oo

Storm exhaled, hands squeezing, preparing to take a shot–

–but something else struck first.

The bolt hit her square in the back, and at that exact moment, Roy felt it too: a jolt that rippled across his spine like lightning beneath the skin. It wasn’t pain, not exactly – more like the shadow of it. A ghost-flash in his nervous system, hot and impossible.

The program shouldn’t have–

Storm crumpled.

Storm:  ::Stifled:: Aghh 

Roy’s body moved before his mind could form a command. One hand caught her shoulder, but not soon enough to stop her knee from crashing into the rock. The other cradled the back of her head to keep it from striking the stone floor.

Bancroft: ::voice low:: Easy, Alex. Don’t lock your jaw – makes it worse.

Lieutenant, he corrected himself silently, irritation flickering within him. The slip was instinctive, reflexive – and lately, increasingly problematic.

Storm:  oO  Breathe, Alex.  Ignore the blaze and breathe!  And for the Dieties sake next time dial down the pain factor! Oo

Bancroft: ::calmly:: Just a few more seconds and it’ll be gone. You can do anything for a handful of seconds.

The simulation dragged her through it – its phantom claws sunk neep. Thirty full seconds passed like a slow, ebbing tide. 

Then, finally, release.

Moments later, the cavern bled away. The jagged stone, the eerie shadows, the refracted beams of light – all dissolved into mist, then vanished entirely, leaving behind the familiar lattice of gold lines against black. A holodeck at rest.

Storm straightened, then retrieved a PADD from her pocket.

Storm:  Computer: Transfer all data relevent to this qualification session to this PADD.

She pivoted – toward Imril more than Roy, though her stance was angled to address them both.

Storm: That wasn't quite what I was expecting to happen, but we'll talk through each section of the training simulation, starting with the shooting range portion - which is half of the phaser evaluation. 

Bancroft: Understood, ma’am.

He kept his voice neutral. He was prepared to take ownership of every decision he’d made, but stating as much here would only muddy the waters. There would be time to dissect it later.

Imril:  Response

Storm:  I feel like in a short period of time, you both made significant progress. You both hit the number of required shots, so both of you passed that half.

Roy nodded once, measured. He kept his eyes forward, on her – not challengingly, not defensively, but with the quiet attentiveness drilled into him years before Starfleet. His upbringing had taught him there was a time to speak, and a time to stay still and listen.

Now was the latter.

Imril:  Response

Storm:  Questions or comments from either of you before I chime in on the practical half of the session?

She drew in a slow breath, her mouth pressed into a thin line. When her gaze flicked up at Roy, it lasted only an instant before fleeing to Imril instead.

Disappointment.

He recognized it instantly. He’d seen it in instructors, in professors, in the cold marble face of his mother. It was the look of someone who believed you’d failed to rise.

To meet expectations.

To be enough.

The voice of experience stirred in the back of his mind, worn and quiet: Stand tall. Don’t justify. Don’t explain. Just take what’s coming. Anything more just makes it worse.

Bancroft: No questions, ma’am.

Imril/Storm:  Response

Roy straightened – not stiff, but deliberate. He still carried the weight of the moment, but refused to retreat from it. No matter how it was judged, he was confident in the decision he’d made.

Bancroft: If this had been a live mission, ma’am – if I or a crewmate was in true danger – I’d have pulled the trigger without hesitation. That’s something I’ve made peace with. ::beat:: But this wasn’t combat. It was a simulation using a Starfleet officer as a stand-in for a threat. 

He sighed, running his hand through his tousled hair.

Bancroft: Causing harm to a friendly – even non-lethal harm – is not a line I’m willing to cross. If the price of passing this evaluation is crossing that line… then I accept failure.

Storm/Imril: Response

TAG/TBC!

===

Lieutenant JG Roy Bancroft

Medical Officer

USS Artemis-A

A240205RB1