Relaunch day.

The words rattled in Rob MacKenzie’s brain as the turbolift moved through the ship, gliding effortlessly and with a soft hum that sounded similar but not always the same on every ship he had ever been on. It was going well with the uncomfortable pit in his stomach that he had, the feeling belying the usually relaxed demeanour he had.

Relaunch of my ship.

The words were hitting him hard, causing an anxious reaction inside. Outwardly, he was calm and collected, but inside he was screaming. This was his first command, and the first time he would be the one in charge. A captain of a ship, not just acting at it or taking the conn when the captain or higher officers were indisposed on a planet or in a coma after an alien decided to invade their sleep or slaved to a malevolent AI with a God complex or any of the millions of situations a starship in Starfleet finds itself in.

Relaunching my ship.

MacKenzie swallowed, hard. The other part he was not exactly the most comfortable with was the relaunch part. The ship, while a great feat of engineering, did have some challenges. “Critical variable geometry failure”. Limping home at low warp. A board of inquiry and a reassignment for the previous captain. A crew that was placed to repair work, reassigned, or simply replaced. Pressure to have the ship perform was at an all-time high.

“At least the crew wasn’t eaten by space bees…” he mused to himself as the turbolift came to a halt. With a soft hiss, the doors parted and Rob was standing at the rear bridge entrance. He took whatever anxiety he had and buried it under himself, putting on an air of confidence.

“Captain on the bridge!” Na’eth announced, and the crew stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.

Rob MacKenzie walked out to the bridge and glanced around, seeing the new faces of his crew – a mix of older faces with fresh graduates from the academy. Much like himself, he expected a lot of them to have some anxiety – first posting, new captain, all of the uncertainty – but he decided to put it out of his mind and focus on the job.

“At ease. Are we ready to get going?”

Na’eth gestured to the captain’s chair he vacated as MacKenzie made his way to it. “Repairs are fully complete, we’re ready to do a shakedown.”

“Good.” MacKenzie sat down in the offered seat and began looking at the side panels, seeing the readiness reports from sections. Satisfied, he glanced around. “There’s usually more pomp and circumstance to a launch than a relaunch, which is good because I was never big on speeches in moments like these. We’ll save that for when we need to save a planet or talk down a fight or some such.”

A chuckle or two could be heard, and all faces – except for Na’eth and the Vulcan helm officer – had smiles at the offhand comment.

“So until then, let’s get this ship out there. Prep all stations for departure. Secure airlocks, retract walkways and detach umbilicals.” He hit a button on his chair. “Starbase docking control, this is USS Cerberus, requesting permission to depart.”

“USS Cerberus, departure lane to proving ground has been cleared, you are cleared for launch. Break a leg out there”

“Thank you, docking control.” MacKenzie hit the button again, closing the channel, then started issuing orders. “Leftenant Sabeth, clear docking clamps and umbilicals and take us out, quarter thrusters when ready.”

Na’eth leaned in. “Quarter thrusters?” he asked in a low tone.

MacKenzie nodded and returned as equally low. “Considering the track record for this ship, I don’t want to break her while still in the starbase, eh. Let’s baby her out of the dock and then put her through the paces. Besides, that breaking speed limits in starbase thing is so cliche.”

Na’eth simply nodded and sat back upright, though the look of confusion on his face remained as he tried to figure out why the captain had used the word ‘baby’ in that context.

“Aye, Captain,” Sabeth replied, hands flying across the controls with practised efficiency.

The Cerberus, under her own power for the first time in months, slowly started to move away from the dry dock, free of the large clamps that held her in place. It crept at a snail’s pace, slowly putting distance in between itself and the main dock it had called home for the last few months as its superstructure needed repairs.

After what seemed like forever but was only about two minutes, Sabeth announced in a matter of fact tone: “Cleared the dry dock.”

“Increase slow to one quarter impulse power,” MacKenzie responded, looking at the two side pads on his chair, monitoring the ship’s structural integrity as the ship started to climb in speed. There was a slight vibration he felt through the gravity plating, but other than that the ship was performing as expected so far. “Ship looks OK so far, eh?”

“Indeed,” Na’eth replied. “Fusion reactors are at peak efficiency.”

“And we haven’t fallen apart yet,” Kessler put in from the engineering console at the back of the bridge, surprising MacKenzie; he had forgotten that she was on the bridge. He heard a soft knocking sound, but dismissed it as a superstition from Kessler.

“From your mouth…” MacKenzie trailed off as he went over the readings once more. Satisfied that the ship’s structural integrity was going to hold after checking for what seemed like the thirtieth time in a minute, MacKenzie decided a little speed was needed. “Helm, set course 196 mark 14. Full impulse. Go when ready.”

“Aye, sir.” Sabeth replied. The ship shuddered slightly as her impulse drive roared to full power, to send the Cerberus to its proving grounds on its first task with MacKenzie in charge.

“Buzz buzz,” MacKenzie said softly to himself, putting his own anxiety at ease with a small chuckle. The only person to hear him, Sabeth, only raised her eyebrow at the sound and then concentrated on her work.