At nineteen thirty, Valor’s senior staff gathered around the auxiliary plot behind Flight Control on the Bridge.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Sienna Marlowe, Valor’s new Flight Control Officer, stood at the head of the display after loading the departure track. At five feet six, she was lean and carried herself with the easy balance of someone accustomed to spending long hours at Flight Control. Dark auburn hair fell just above her shoulders, framing pale blue-grey eyes that moved steadily between the plot and the officers gathered around it.

“Proceed with the navigation brief, FCO.”  Kincaid ordered.

Marlowe touched the display.

“We depart Berth Seven-Nine at twenty-one hundred. Starbase Traffic Control has assigned us Departure Corridor Two-Seven. We’ll clear the berth on maneuvering thrusters and remain on thrusters until we clear the starbase’s inner structure.”

She enlarged the track around Valor.

“I’ll take us straight out twenty meters, hold position long enough to verify lateral clearance, then begin a twelve-degree starboard yaw to align with the corridor. Our minimum clearance is twenty-eight meters.”

“Comfortable.” Calloway said while studying the display.

“For you, maybe.” Marlowe said as she advanced the sequence.

“We’ll clear the docking structure at approximately one-point-two kilometers from our present position. Once our stern is clear, Starbase Nine Traffic Control will authorize us to increase speed to one-quarter impulse. The inner navigation zone extends five thousand kilometers from the station. We’ll maintain our assigned outbound vector and remain under Traffic Control restrictions until we cross it.”

“When do we get room to maneuver?” Kincaid pointed further down the track.

“Fifteen thousand kilometers from beginning of our run, Captain.” Marlowe said as a digital marker appeared along the departure corridor.

“That’s the outer control boundary. Once we cross it, Traffic Control releases us for independent maneuvering, and we can proceed on our space trials.”

“And the tactical handling test?” Danner tapped the digital marker at fifteen thousand kilometers.

“After we cross the outer boundary and Engineering completes the initial propulsion checks.” Marlowe said, changing the plot again. A second, broader track appeared.

“After Engineering completes the initial propulsion checks, I’ve built a series of controlled turns at one-quarter impulse. Fifteen degrees port, thirty degrees starboard, then a forty-five-degree reversal. Nothing aggressive, but enough lateral loading to tell you whether that torpedo rail behaves differently underway.”

“How much acceleration, Marlowe?” Danner said while studying the sequence.

“Point-one-eight gee lateral at maximum.”

Chief Meeks, standing behind him, grunted.

Danner glanced back. “Problem?”

“No, sir.”

“That sounded like a problem.”

“It sounded like point-one-eight gee.” Meeks said.

“Do you need more?” Marlowe looked between them.

“Ask me after the first turn.” Meeks folded his arms.

“Engineering?” Kincaid said.

Marlowe stepped aside as Calloway stepped up to the display and called up a cross-section of Valor’s impulse engines.

“One-quarter impulse is fine. I want the first acceleration gradual. Give the deuterium transfer system time to prove the full-flow test wasn’t a laboratory success.”

“How gradual?” Marlowe asked.

“Twelve-second ramp. Oh, and no full-power lateral thrusters until we’re clear of the station.” Calloway said before he stepped aside.

“I wasn’t planning to scrape the paint on my first departure, Commander.” Marlowe said as she entered the ramp-up restriction into the plot.

“She’ll fit in too.” Calloway grinned at Kincaid.

Marlowe ignored him as she called up contingency procedures on the display.

“If Flight Control loses primary helm response while we’re inside the berth, I hold position on secondary control and request station assistance. If we lose maneuvering thrusters after clearing the clamps but before clearing the structure, I do not attempt impulse propulsion unless collision becomes unavoidable.”

“Good.” Kincaid nodded once.

“If the inertial damping system shows more than a three-percent variance during the initial maneuvering sequence, I terminate the trial and stabilize the ship before continuing outbound.” Marlowe said.

“Anything you don’t like about this, FCO?” Kincaid asked.

“The berth.”

Kincaid raised an eyebrow.

“It’s tight, the departure angle is ugly, and Traffic Control has us crossing behind two civilian approaches before we reach Corridor Two-Seven.”

“Can you do it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what don’t you like?” Kincaid pressed.

“Having no safety margin for someone else doing something stupid.” Marlowe said, meeting his eyes.

“Welcome to Flight Control.” Kincaid smirked.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Any questions?” Kincaid said, looking around at his officers.

No one spoke.

He checked the chronometer.

Nineteen forty-three.

“Very well, carry on.” Kincaid ordered as he turned for the command platform.

The senior staff broke apart almost immediately. Marlowe returned to Flight Control, Alvarez headed for Science, and Danner moved aft toward Tactical with Chief Meeks in tow.

Calloway lingered a moment longer before heading for the portside turbolift.

“Taking the EOOW watch for departure, Captain.” Calloway called out as the turbolift doors opened.

“Make sure she answers all bells.” Kincaid ordered.

“That’s the idea, Captain.” Calloway called back as the turbolift doors closed behind him.

---

Seventeen minutes later, the chronometer rolled over to twenty hundred.

Kincaid tapped the shipwide communications control on the right armrest.

The boatswain’s whistle sounded throughout Valor.

“Station the maneuvering detail. Station the maneuvering detail.”

Kincaid ordered before keying off the circuit.

“The Captain has the deck; The Flight Control Officer has the Conn.” Kincaid announced as he sat in his chair.

“Aye, Captain. I have the Conn.” Marlowe straightened slightly at the helm.

Chief Meeks waited for Marlowe’s acknowledgment, then keyed the shipwide circuit from Tactical.

“Ship’s company, shift to the uniform of the day. Standard working uniform. Department heads, report readiness for getting underway to the Operations Officer.”

Almost at once, acknowledgments began populating Winslow’s display.

“Engineering reports maneuvering detail manned.”

Another indicator changed.

“Medical manned and ready.”

“Tactical Systems manned.” Danner reported.

“Science reports ready,” Alvarez added.

Winslow worked down the list as the remaining departments checked in, each report replacing another amber indicator with green.

Kincaid watched the board fill from the center chair.

“Flight Control?” Winslow asked.

Marlowe checked her console. “Helm controls online. Maneuvering thrusters available on all axes. Departure program loaded and verified.”

Winslow waited another few seconds, then looked toward Kincaid.

“All departments report maneuvering detail manned and ready, Captain.”

“Very well.”

Kincaid glanced at the chronometer.

Twenty-oh-two.

Kincaid keyed the engineering circuit from the right armrest.

“Main Engineering, Captain.”

“Engineering, go ahead, Captain.” Calloway answered almost immediately.

“Stand by to shift from starbase power to ship’s power.” Kincaid ordered.

---

“Aye, sir.” Calloway said, then placed the circuit in standby.

The warp core pulsed steadily behind him, its blue-white light washing across the upper level as engineers moved between consoles. At the power-distribution station to his left, Chief Petty Officer Harlan monitored the ship’s EPS network.

Across the compartment, Ensign Velasquez, Auxiliaries Officer, had auxiliary power control, while a propulsion technician watched warp-core output from the reaction-control console.

Calloway turned toward Velasquez.

“Bring the auxiliary fusion plants fully onto the distribution grid. Match frequency and phase with the starbase feed before you close the ties.”

“Aye, Commander.” Velasquez worked across the console. A moment later, two power paths changed from amber to blue on the main display.

“Auxiliaries synchronized. Both plants ready to accept load.”

Calloway looked toward the propulsion station.

“Warp core?”

“Stable at three-point-two percent output.”

“Hold it there.”

He stepped over to Harlan’s station and leaned over the chief’s shoulder. The display showed two separate power sources feeding Valor: the heavy external trunk from Starbase Nine and the ship’s own internal generation network.

“Bring the main EPS trunks onto internal generation,” Calloway said. “Keep the external tie closed. I want load-sharing established before we start unloading the starbase feed.”

“Port main taking load.” Harlan acknowledged and began opening the internal distribution paths.

Calloway watched the figures climb.

“Starboard main taking load.”

“Bus differential?”

“Point-zero-two percent.”

“Trend?”

“Flat, sir.” Harlan reported.

“Good. Start bringing hotel load aboard. Environmental, internal lighting, replicator support, secondary computer cores” Calloway ordered.

Harlan began transferring systems one group at a time. On the Master Systems Display, sections of Valor’s schematic shifted from external to internal power as the starbase contribution slowly decreased.

“External feed at seventy-eight percent.”

Calloway watched another block transfer.

“Seventy-one.”

“Keep it coming.”

“Sixty-four.”

Calloway pointed toward the flight-systems branch.

“Leave Flight Control, structural integrity, inertial damping, and propulsion controls on the external feed until final transfer. I don’t want those changing sources until we’re ready to cut loose.”

“Aye, Commander.”

He moved back to the Master Systems Display and called up the automatic isolation status.

“Chief, verify external-feed isolation.”

Harlan checked his board.

“Automatic isolation armed. Both main breakers show ready.”

“Emergency batteries?”

“Fully charged and floating.” Velasquez said.

“EPS bypasses?”

“Clear. No temporary bypasses remaining in the main distribution network.” Harlan said.

“None?” Calloway pressed.

Harlan gave him a sideways glance. “I checked twice.”

“Good man.”

Calloway returned his attention to the power-flow schematic. Starbase Nine still carried slightly more than half the ship’s load.

“Take us to fifty percent internal.”

Harlan began shifting the remaining noncritical buses.

“Forty-five percent internal.”

“Fifty percent internal. Starbase feed holding the other fifty.” The indicators settled.

“Bus differential?”

“Point-zero-one-eight.”

“Core output?”

“Three-point-two and steady.”

“Hold it there.”

Around him, the ship started humming on internal power.

He tapped the standby circuit.

“Captain, Chief Engineer.”

“Captain.”

“We’re aligned and ready to begin the final transfer. Five minutes to shore-power disconnect.”

“Captain, aye.”

Calloway closed the channel.

“Hold the transfer at fifty percent until the shipwide warning goes out.”  Calloway snapped while hovering over Harlan’s shoulder.

---

The boatswain’s whistle sounded throughout Valor.

“The ship will shift from starbase power to ship’s power in five minutes. Place all nonessential equipment in standby.”

At Operations, Winslow brought the power-transfer countdown onto her display.

“Five minutes marked, Captain.”

Kincaid glanced toward the main viewscreen, then back to the engineering status repeater.

“Very well.”

Winslow watched the acknowledgments roll into Operations as departments shed nonessential loads across the ship.

“Science reports nonessential laboratory systems in standby; Medical reports diagnostic and research equipment secured.”

“Weapons maintenance systems are down. Tactical is at departure load.” Danner reported from Tactical.

“Flight Control?” Winslow asked.

“Nonessential navigation processors secured,” Marlowe replied. “Primary helm and departure systems remain online.”

Winslow checked the remaining entries.

“Captain, all departments report ready for the power shift.” Winslow reported.

Kincaid glanced at the chronometer.

Twenty-thirteen.

---

In Main Engineering, Calloway stood behind Harlan and watched the two power sources divide Valor’s load evenly across the Master Systems Display.

“Start bringing the core up,” he ordered.

“Warp core to four percent.” The propulsion technician acknowledged from across the compartment.

“Auxiliaries?”

“Both plants steady at twenty-one percent combined,” Velasquez reported.

“Leave them there. Chief, start taking load off the starbase feed. Five percent at a time.” Calloway input authorization codes into the main computer.

“Internal fifty-five. External forty-five.” Harlan moved his fingers across the distribution controls.

Calloway watched the EPS mains.

“Differential?”

“Point-zero-two.”

“Keep going.”

“Sixty internal.”

“Sixty-five.”

“ Warp Core?” Calloway glanced toward the propulsion technician.

“Four-point-six percent. Plasma flow stable.”

“Hold four-point-six.”

Harlan continued walking the load across.

“Seventy internal. Thirty external.”

A yellow indication flickered on the port distribution schematic.

“Hold.”

Harlan froze the transfer.

Calloway leaned over the console. “What moved?”

“Port EPS trunk three picked up point-four percent above forecast.” Harlan reported.

“Regulator response?”

“Compensating.”

They watched the value settle.

“Back within point-zero-three.”

“Trend?”

“Stable.”

Calloway waited another two seconds.

“Continue.”

“Seventy-five internal.”

“Eighty.”

“Eighty-five.”

Calloway checked the chronometer.

Twenty-fourteen and thirty seconds.

“Take it to ninety. Hold ten percent on the shore tie until I call for it.”

“Ninety internal. Ten external.”

“Bus differential?”

“Point-zero-one.”

“ Warp Core?”

“Four-point-six and steady.”

“Auxiliaries?”

“Stable.”

“Captain, Chief Engineer.”

“Captain.” Kincaid replied.

“We have ninety percent of the ship aboard. Shore feed is carrying ten percent of the load. Power distribution is stable and we’re ready for final transfer.”

“Time?” Kincaid looked toward Winslow.

“Twenty-fourteen fifty-two.”

He waited.

Twenty-fourteen fifty-eight.

Fifty-nine.

Twenty-fifteen.

“Shift to ship’s power!” Kincaid ordered.

“Chief Engineer, aye.”

---

“Take the load.” Calloway looked directly at Harlan.

“Ninety-five percent internal.” Harlan closed the final internal distribution ties.

Calloway watched the external feed collapse toward zero.

“Ninety-eight.”

“Core compensating.”

“One hundred percent internal.”

“Open the shore-power tie!” Calloway snapped.

The heavy external power path disappeared from the Master Systems Display.

“Shore tie open.”

“Verify isolation.”

“Both external breakers open and locked. No reverse flow.”

“EPS mains?”

“Stable.”

“Warp Core?”

“Four-point-nine percent. Holding.”

“Auxiliaries steady,” Velasquez added.

“Chief Harlan?!” Calloway snapped

“Ship is carrying full electrical load.” Harlan checked the distribution summary one last time.

“Captain, Chief Engineer.” Calloway keyed the bridge.

“Captain.”

“Valor is on stable ship’s power.

“Very well.”

Calloway closed the circuit.

“Keep the core where it is. Start a five-minute load trend and tell me if any EPS regulator moves more than half a percent.” Calloway ordered as he walked toward the Warp Core.

“Aye, Commander.” Harlan acknowledged.

On the bridge, the external-power indication disappeared from Winslow’s display.

“Starbase confirms shore power disconnected.” Winslow reported.

Kincaid nodded. “Proceed with remaining shore services.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Winslow opened the service-control page.

“Starbase Nine, Valor. We are on ship’s power. You are clear to disconnect environmental, potable water, and data services.”

“Valor, Starbase Nine. Disconnecting now.”

One by one, the remaining external-service indicators went dark. Winslow watched the final status change.

“External data trunk disconnected. All shore services are clear except the access brow.”

Kincaid checked the chronometer.

Twenty-seventeen.

“Very well.”

The bridge settled into a quiet rhythm. Marlowe worked through final helm checks. Danner verified Tactical’s departure configuration while Alvarez brought the primary sensor arrays fully online.

“Captain, the brow watch reports the last starbase personnel are off the ship and the airlock is secured for transit” Danner reported.

“ Very well. Is the Starbase ready to retract the brow, OPS?” Kincaid glanced over to Winslow.

“Starbase reports ready to retract the brow.” Winslow reported after verifying her board.

“Retract the brow.” Kincaid ordered.

Winslow keyed Traffic Control.

“Starbase Nine, Valor. Ship is ready to retract access brow.”

“Valor, Starbase Nine. Retracting access brow now.”

Locking collars on the starboard side of the saucer section released with a muted series of metallic thuds. The flexible pressure seals collapsed inward, followed by the heavier mechanical latches that had held the brow against Valor’s outer hatch.

“Pressure seal released.” Winslow watched the status indicators change across her console.

A second light went amber.

Outside the hull, the access brow eased away from Valor under its own actuators. For several seconds it hovered only a meter from the ship before beginning its slow withdrawal into the starbase docking structure.

“Brow separated,” Winslow reported.

The amber indicator held for another few seconds while the structure continued retracting. The brow folded back into the docking framework section by section until the last of its articulated support arms disappeared behind the berth structure.

“Access brow fully retracted, Captain.” Winslow reported.

“Very well. Set departure configuration.” Kincaid ordered.

“Bringing running lights online.”  Marlowe acknowledged from the helm.

A series of indicators changed across her console.

“Navigation lights on. Formation and anti-collision lights responding.” Marlowe reported.

“Very well. Bring the main deflector online.” Kincaid ordered.

“Aye, Captain.” Winslow called up the deflector controls at Operations.

“Primary generators responding.” Power began feeding forward through the deflector grid.

The field-strength indicator climbed steadily.

“Emitter alignment nominal. Graviton polarization established.”

Another status light changed.

“Deflector field forming.”

Outside the ship, the broad dish along Valor’s forward secondary hull came alive. A faint blue glow gathered across its surface, weak at first, then deepening as the field stabilized. The light spread evenly from the center outward until the entire deflector burned with a cool blue intensity against the darker structure of Starbase Nine.

“Main deflector field online and stable at transit power.” Winslow watched the final readings settle.

“Very well. Flight Control, verify structural integrity and inertial damping systems.” Kincaid ordered.

Marlowe brought up the flight-systems diagnostic.

“SIF generators online. Field geometry is balanced across the primary hull, dorsal spine, and engineering section. Structural load paths are nominal. Inertial damping generators are synchronized to helm control. Compensation timing is within three milliseconds across all axes. No phase lag between primary and secondary grids.” Marlowe reported.

“Any variance?” Kincaid asked.

“Less than point-two percent.”

“Good. Thrusters?”

Marlowe shifted to maneuvering control.

“Reaction-control manifolds pressurized. Thruster quads available on all axes, Captain.”

“Very well. Set departure transponder.” Kincaid ordered while looking towards Operations.

“Aye, Captain.” Winslow said as her hands flew across her console.

“Ship’s transponder now broadcasting assigned departure code.” Winslow reported.

“Very Well.” Kincaid turned forward.

“Flight Control, bring impulse engines to departure standby.”

“Impulse reactors responding. Driver coils coming to standby power.”

Marlowe watched the readings rise.

“Port and starboard impulse engines available. Thrust remains inhibited while the electronic moorings are engaged.” Marlowe reported.

“Keep it that way.” Kincaid nodded.

“Aye, Captain.”

“Navigation computer?”

“Departure track loaded and synchronized with Starbase Traffic Control. Corridor Two-Seven confirmed.”

Kincaid glanced at the chronometer.

Twenty-forty-five.

“Maintain present configuration. We will release electronic moorings on Starbase clearance.”

“Aye, Captain.” Marlowe locked the configuration.

Department reports continued to filter through Operations as the last departure items closed out, leaving only Traffic Control clearance and the electronic moorings between Valor and open space. By twenty fifty-five, the bridge had grown noticeably quieter.

“Get me Starbase Operations.” Kincaid ordered.

“Control tower reading, Captain.”  Danner reported as the channel opened.

“Starbase Nine Operations, this is Valor Actual. Requesting permission to depart.” Kincaid said

“Valor Actual, Starbase Nine Operations. Stand by.”

Kincaid glanced toward the chronometer.

Twenty fifty-six.

“Valor Actual, you are cleared to depart Berth Seven-Nine at twenty-one hundred. Release electronic moorings and set maneuvering thrusters at station keeping in preparation for departure. Maintain maneuvering thrusters until clear of the docking structure, then proceed along Departure Corridor Two-Seven. One-quarter impulse authorized beyond the inner structure.”

“Copy, Starbase Nine Operations. Valor Actual out.” Kincaid signaled Danner to close the channel.

“Ready to disengage electronic moorings, Captain.” Marlowe called out.

“Proceed. Set maneuvering thrusters at station keeping.” Kincaid ordered.

A faint vibration passed through the deck as Valor’s maneuvering thrusters came up against the electronic moorings. Outside, brief white plumes flared along the hull, holding the ship precisely in place as the flight computer balanced the ship against the berth.

“Station keeping established. Electronic moorings cleared.”  Marlowe reported.

“Set the restricted maneuvering doctrine.” Kincaid ordered.

Marlowe called up the departure limits and loaded them into Flight Control.

“Acceleration capped at one-quarter impulse. Lateral thrust limited to sixty percent. Turn rates restricted to the navigation brief, with automatic inhibition on any command exceeding structural or inertial-damping limits.” Marlowe reported.

“Very well. Chief of the watch…” Kincaid ordered.

“The Restricted Maneuvering Doctrine is now in effect. Do not stop or start any electronic equipment without first contacting the Engineering Officer of the Watch and the Officer of the Deck.” Meeks called out over the shipwide circuit.

“The ship is ready in all respects to get underway, Captain.” Winslow called out from Operations.

Kincaid glanced at the chronometer.

Twenty-one hundred.

“Take us out!” Kincaid looked at the viewscreen.

“Underway!” Marlowe announced over the shipwide circuit.

On the viewscreen, the framework of Starbase Nine began to slide past in measured silence. Docking spars and service gantries drifted aft along the hull as Valor crept clear of Berth Seven-Nine, white thruster plumes flickering against the station’s metalwork.

Kincaid kept his eyes forward.

“Ten meters,” Marlowe reported.

Winslow watched the proximity plot at Operations. “Clear starboard. Clear dorsal.”

“Twenty meters.”

Marlowe arrested the forward motion.

“Holding.”

For several seconds, Valor hung motionless beyond the berth while the flight computer resolved the surrounding structure.

“Lateral clearance confirmed,” Winslow said. “Twenty-eight meters minimum.”

Marlowe brought up the next leg of the departure track.

“Beginning twelve-degree starboard yaw.”

Thrusters fired in short, controlled bursts along the hull. The view shifted as Valor’s bow swung slowly to starboard, the open mouth of Departure Corridor Two-Seven moving toward the center of the viewscreen.

“Five degrees.”

Another pulse.

“Eight.”

Kincaid glanced toward the helm.

Marlowe never looked away from her instruments.

“Eleven.”

The thrusters fired once more.

“Twelve degrees. Holding departure heading, Captain.”

“Nicely done,” Kincaid said.

Valor began moving forward again.

“Thirty meters.”

The berth structure continued sliding aft.

“Fifty.”

Winslow tracked the ship against the station schematic.

“Port quarter clear.”

“One hundred meters,” Marlowe reported. “Stern still inside the structure.”

“No abnormal loading on the forward transfer rail.” Danner watched the tactical display, more interested in the ship than the station around it.

“Yet.” Chief Meeks glanced at the same figures.

“I heard you.” Danner looked at him.

“Yes, sir.” Meeks smirked.

Marlowe continued easing Valor outward.

“Five hundred meters.”

The docking framework began to fall away from the viewscreen. For the first time, open space appeared beyond the latticework of Starbase Nine.

“Eight hundred.”

Winslow checked the departure envelope.

“Clear above and below.”

“One kilometer.”

Marlowe made a slight correction.

“Correcting two degrees port.”

A brief thruster pulse answered.

“On centerline.”

“Traffic?” Kincaid looked toward Operations.

“Corridor Two-Seven remains clear. Civilian traffic holding outside our departure lane.” Winslow said.

“One-point-two kilometers,” Marlowe reported. “Stern clear of the docking structure.”

Almost immediately, Danner’s console chimed.

“Starbase Nine Traffic Control to Valor. You are clear to increase to one-quarter impulse and proceed outbound on Corridor Two-Seven.”

Kincaid looked toward Marlowe.

“Flight Control, answer one-quarter impulse.”

“Aye, Captain. One-quarter impulse.”

Her hands moved across the helm.

“Beginning twelve-second acceleration ramp.”

The impulse engines brightened behind the ship.

“Five percent.”

The faint vibration beneath Kincaid’s boots deepened.

“Ten.”

“Propulsion plant stable. Deuterium transfer is holding at nominal levels.” Calloway’s voice came over the bridge circuit.

“Fifteen percent.”

Marlowe watched the acceleration curve climb exactly along the profile she had briefed.

“Twenty.”

The station began to recede more quickly.

“Twenty-five percent. One-quarter impulse.”

Kincaid looked toward the viewscreen.

Starbase Nine no longer surrounded them. Its docking structures had collapsed into a single sprawling shape astern, framed now by open space rather than bulkheads and gantries.

“Course?”

“Corridor Two-Seven, dead center,” Marlowe replied.

“Distance to the inner navigation boundary?”

“Four thousand, six hundred kilometers.”

Kincaid settled back into the Captain’s Chair.

“Maintain one-quarter impulse.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Winslow glanced toward her display.

“Starbase Nine has transferred us from berth control to outbound traffic control.”

“Very well.”

“Passive sensor baseline is clean. Starbase interference is already falling off.” Alvarez reported.

Kincaid nodded.

Ahead, the departure corridor opened into clear space.

“Secure from Restricted Maneuvering Doctrine and the maneuvering detail. Station the underway watch.” Kincaid ordered.

“Aye, Captain.”

“Secure from Restricted Maneuvering Doctrine. Secure from the maneuvering detail. Station the underway watch. On Deck: Watch Section Three.”

Across Valor, damage-control teams returned to normal readiness, engineering shifted from maneuvering detail to the underway watch, and off-watch personnel cleared their temporary stations.

“Kincaid to Calloway. I want us ready for warp maneuvers by zero seven hundred tomorrow.”

“Understood. I’ll keep the propulsion plant under observation through the impulse trials and run a full warp-drive diagnostic overnight.” Calloway said.

“Any reason we won’t make it?”

“Ask me again after you start throwing the ship around.”

Kincaid glanced toward Marlowe.

“She heard you.”

“I assumed she would.”

“Zero seven hundred, Commander.”

“You’ll have an answer before then.”

“Good. Kincaid out.”

Starbase Nine had fallen well astern now, reduced to a cluster of lights against the dark. Ahead, the departure corridor stretched toward open space and the first of Valor’s trials.

“Maintain one-quarter impulse until we clear the outer boundary, then take us to full impulse power.” Kincaid ordered.

“Aye, Captain,” Marlowe replied.