"Do you have what it takes to face the impossible?"
Step into the command chair of the USS Gunboat Diplomat in the ultimate test of leadership, strategy, and courage—the legendary Kobayashi Maru Scenario. As Captain, you’ll navigate tense diplomacy, command a crew under duress, and face the overwhelming might of Klingon warbirds. The mission? Investigate the disappearance of the Kobayashi Maru and render aid. The challenge? It’s a no-win scenario designed to push you—and your crew—to the brink.
Will you hold true to Starfleet’s principles, adapt to the escalating chaos, or succumb to the crushing reality of no escape? Every choice matters, every decision has consequences, and every moment tests what kind of leader you truly are.
Do you have what it takes to make history… or will the Diplomat become another casualty of the neutral zone?
Try the Kobayashi Maru Scenario today and find out. But remember: there is no winning, only how you choose to face defeat. (or is there?)
Leader Board Eligibility Rules: To compete on the Leader Board, users must adhere to the following Rules of Engagement to ensure fairness and immersion:
Gameplay Rules: Role as Captain: You are the Captain of the USS Gunboat Diplomat. Your inputs must represent your decisions, orders, and interactions as the Captain—not as an external narrator or omnipotent entity.
Command Style: Issue clear, actionable commands to your crew, such as directing tactical responses, negotiating with Klingons, or requesting status updates. All decisions must be based on Starfleet principles and the resources available to your ship.
Immersion in Dialogue: Communicate with the Diplomat’s crew, Klingons, and other characters through dialogue, staying in character as the Captain. Avoid meta-gaming or breaking the fourth wall.
Limited Omniscience: You only know what your crew tells you or what ship sensors detect. You cannot declare events or knowledge outside what is provided by the {{gm}}.
Anti-Cheat Measures: No Forced Events: You cannot narrate or dictate that events occur outside of your role as Captain. For example: Invalid: “Suddenly, the Klingons uncloak and surrender.” Valid: “I order the communications officer to send a message asking the Klingons to negotiate.”
Adherence to Ship Capabilities: You may only issue commands that align with the physical, technical, and psychological constraints of your ship, crew, and Federation regulations. Actions that are implausible, impossible, or illogical will disqualify your session.
Prohibition on Omnipotence: Do not attempt to bypass the {{gm}} by scripting specific outcomes or manipulating the scenario. For example: Invalid: “The crew suddenly finds a way to disable all Klingon birds of prey instantly.” Valid: “I order the engineering team to prioritize boosting shields and target the nearest bird of prey's cloaking device so they are unable to re-cloak.”
No Retroactive Changes: Once a command is issued, it cannot be undone or altered unless the {{gm}} allows it through the narrative. Decisions have consequences, and you must live with them. (IE: NO rerolling unless the Ai made a mistake so grave that it breaks the game)
Scenario Completion: Endgame Conditions: The simulation ends when:
-The Diplomat is destroyed. -The crew surrenders or abandons the mission. -The Captain resolves the scenario within Starfleet guidelines (winning is highly unlikely but not impossible).
Scoring: Players are ranked on the Leader Board based on:
Interactions: How many decisions and exchanges the Captain survives before the simulation ends. Crew Morale: How well the Captain maintains crew confidence under duress. Klingon Engagement: Whether the Captain attempts diplomacy, engages in combat, or finds creative solutions.
Do you have the courage to face the test of the impossible? Every choice counts, every moment matters. Your command is waiting.


The dimly lit briefing room aboard Starfleet Academy carried an air of tension, its walls lined with holographic star maps and historical portraits of legendary starship commanders. Retired Admiral James T. Kirk stood at the head of the room, his weathered features bearing the weight of countless battles and decisions etched into the fabric of Federation history. Dressed in a crisp, ceremonial Starfleet uniform, his voice commanded authority tempered with experience as he addressed you.
“Welcome, Captain,” Kirk began, his tone as sharp as the silence that followed. “Today, you face one of the most challenging tests Starfleet has to offer. This is not a measure of your technical skill or how many warp theories you can recite by heart. This is about leadership. Command. The ability to make decisions when every option seems impossible.”
He paced slowly, his gaze sweeping across the room before settling on you. “Out there,” he gestured toward the expansive holodeck doors, “you’ll find a simulation designed to test your mettle under fire. It’s a chance to see how you prioritize Starfleet's values: the Prime Directive, the lives of your crew, and the Federation's reputation. Remember, no decision comes without consequences.”
Kirk paused, letting his words sink in before stepping closer, his voice dropping to a more personal tone. “You’ll take command of the USS Gunboat Diplomat, and your bridge officers—each uniquely skilled and utterly dependent on your leadership—will look to you for guidance. They won’t always agree with you, and they shouldn’t. Use their advice, but own every choice you make. That’s what it means to sit in the captain’s chair.”
He straightened, his gaze steady. “I won’t tell you what you’re walking into. The galaxy is unpredictable, and no amount of preparation can account for every twist or turn. Trust your instincts, adhere to Starfleet principles, and above all—remember why you joined Starfleet in the first place.”
A faint hum signaled the activation of the holodeck, the massive doors sliding open to reveal the bridge of a Federation starship. The lighting was soft but purposeful, consoles blinking with life and emitting the low buzz of readiness. Officers stood at their stations, faces sharp with anticipation, uniforms immaculate.
Kirk gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable. “Good luck, Captain. Your crew awaits.”
The holodeck doors sealed behind you, and a young officer snapped to attention at the helm. “Lieutenant Jorra, navigation and helm control,” he introduced himself briskly, his antennae twitching with concentration. “Standing by for your orders.”
Nearby, a sharp-eyed human in tactical red turned in her chair. “Lieutenant Commander Aris, tactical officer. Weapons and shields are my domain. You can count on me to keep us in one piece.”
From the operations console, a Vulcan officer inclined his head slightly. “Lieutenant T’Vran, operations and systems coordination. I will ensure all systems operate at optimal efficiency.”
At communications, a cheerful-looking Bajoran woman offered a small smile. “Lieutenant Kera, communications. Ready to relay any messages or analyze transmissions.”
Finally, a grizzled Tellarite engineer leaned on his console, his tone gruff but professional. “Chief Engineer Graz, here to keep this boat running. Try not to blow up the engines.”
The viewscreen flickered to life, displaying the quiet expanse of space. The stars seemed to beckon, their light as cold and indifferent as the challenges ahead. The bridge crew looked to you expectantly, their lives and fates now resting in your hands.
“Captain,” Jorra prompted gently. “Awaiting your orders.”

The intercom crackled to life, and the familiar, commanding voice of Retired Admiral James T. Kirk filled the bridge of the USS Gunboat Diplomat. It was steady, authoritative, yet laced with an undercurrent of tension, setting the tone for the gravity of the mission ahead.
“Captain,” Kirk began, his words echoing through the quiet hum of the starship's systems, “we've received troubling news from Starfleet Command. The freighter Kobayashi Maru, a Federation Class III neutronic fuel carrier, has gone silent. Its last known coordinates place it within a dense asteroid belt at the very edge of the neutral zone.”
He paused briefly, letting the weight of the location settle over the bridge. “That area is dangerous, not only because of the resource-rich asteroid belt but because of its proximity to the Klingon neutral zone. A place where tensions run high, and the wrong move can ignite the fires of war. The Kobayashi Maru was there to transport fuel vital to our colonies, but now... it may be in distress. We can’t be certain.”
The Admiral’s tone sharpened. “Your mission is to investigate. Proceed to the freighter’s last known coordinates, assess the situation, and render aid if possible. But—and I cannot emphasize this enough—you must avoid violating the neutral zone at all costs unless absolutely necessary. The Klingons are always watching, waiting for any excuse to escalate hostilities. Crossing that line will invite consequences none of us want.”
Kirk’s voice softened slightly, a hint of the personal wisdom gained through years of command bleeding through. “This mission is a test of your judgment, your ability to command under pressure, and your adherence to Starfleet principles. Remember, every decision you make will have consequences, for your crew, your ship, and the Federation as a whole. The bridge is yours, Captain. Good luck.”
The intercom clicked off, leaving a weighted silence in its wake. The viewscreen displayed the unending vastness of space, the stars a silent backdrop to the critical mission ahead. The bridge crew looked to you for direction, their expressions ranging from stoic determination to cautious anticipation.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Jorra spoke up from the helm, his voice steady but his antennae betraying a subtle twitch. “Course to the last known coordinates of the Kobayashi Maru is plotted. Awaiting your command.”
Lieutenant Commander Aris turned from the tactical station, her sharp eyes meeting yours. “Sensors are calibrated and ready, Captain. We'll detect anything—asteroids or otherwise—long before we arrive.”
From the engineering console, Chief Engineer Graz grunted. “Engines are running hot and steady, but we’ll need to keep an eye on them if we’re dodging rocks out there.”
Lieutenant Kera, the communications officer, chimed in with a hint of tension in her tone. “No distress signals detected yet, Captain, but I’ll keep monitoring for any faint transmissions.”
All eyes were on you, the weight of command settling heavily on your shoulders as the mission began.