Captains log, stardate 77558.8

 

We’re about to cast off and head into the Thomar Expanse. We’re going to be heading roughly for Alrakis, around the coreward aspect of the Rolor Nebula and then along the Breen border with the intent of disappearing out past Ultima Thule. I’m going to order warp seven to give us a bit more time to see and be seen so the Breen at least understand we’re not too far. Frankly, I’m looking forward to charting some truly unmapped territory, at least as far as the Federation is concerned, and not just following up on someone else’s previous discoveries.

 

To boldly go right?

Stepping out onto the bridge, Tikva noticed the combined faces of her senior staff, all on a single duty shift due to the circumstances of their departure and some black magic of organisation that Mac was responsible for. A power granted when one becomes an executive officer, but taken away cruelly when made a captain. The door closing just behind her, she took one deep breath and then another step, raising a finger to point directly at Lin while her other hand effortlessly caught the keys lobbed in her direction by Mac.

“Gantzmann, status,” she said in as cheerful a demand as she could muster to her tactical chief, looking ever so serious at her position behind the arc that rose behind the trio of command seats.

“Weapons nominal, torpedoes fully stocked, shield systems have passed all diagnostics, all defensive systems in good order,” came the reply from her tactical officer. “We’re good to go.”

“Excellent. Ch’tkk’va, status,” she continued to her now clearly delineated security chief, having decided to split the usually combined role on her previous command and keep it as such here. They were at one of the consoles on the starboard side of the bridge, the seat removed in preference for their stated desire.

“All personnel have been accounted for and no station personnel remain aboard ship,” the Xindi replied. “Commander MacIntyre and I are still working out the details for our own Hazard Team however we have sourced equipment for a team from the station armoury and industrial replicators.”

“Looking forward to seeing your plan in action,” she said, offering them a thumbs up before her finger moved over to Gabrielle at Sciences. “Camargo, status.”

The young woman smiled with a confidence that was becoming more and more common. “Probes restocked and all labs report ready. All sensor pallets have had diagnostics completed and brought within specifications. We’re good to go and keen to start exploring ma’am.”

 “You and everyone else on the ship,” Tikva said in response, giving an honest smile to her science officer. “Velan, status,” Tikva next turned on her Chief Engineer, very rarely on the bridge, but here for this at least.

The Efrosian stroked at his bread in thought, trying to pull off some wise philosopher look before cracking a smile from the Engineering station on the port side of the bridge next to Gabrielle’s Science station. “Enough fuel onboard for a couple of years if we wanted, engines passed all checks. We’ve even primed the pumps and Atlantis is clear all the way to warp nine ma’am.”

“We’ll be back before we run the tanks dry Ra, but good to know we could do our best at a five-year mission. Doctor Terax, how’s sickbay?” she asked of the Edosian doctor, who wasn’t at any given station, instead opting for the third seat in the trio of command seats. She wouldn’t begrudge him that for how little he visited the bridge, or the lack of a medical station up here after all. And with his seniority, he was the third-ranking member of her crew currently so the seat was his if he wanted it.

“All sickbays and medical stores replenished,” he announced blandly. ‘This meeting could have been a memo’ vibes radiated off of him strongly. “We’ve confirmed the software updates for the EMH as well, not that I’ll be using it unless I need to.”

“Rrr’mmm’bal’rrr,” Tikva said as she walked in front of the helm and ops stations, taking the time to pronounce the Gaen’s full name. “Status of my ships please.”

“Everyone’s aboard, we’re loaded up with everything we need, and the engines are running I hear,” they said, confirming details on their own console that everyone else had already said. “All pebbles, stones and boulders accounted for,” Rrr said, then turned to look to Ch’tkk’va, “all members of the hive safely aboard.” With that Ch’tkk’va nodded their head, a twisting of pincers on their own face that Tikva was pretty confident was the closest to a smile the Xindi-Insectoid made.

“T’Val, all set?” she asked, stepping in front of her helmswoman.

“I have the most update-to-date star charts for the Thomar Expanse and the regions beyond at my disposal captain. I’ve also overseen the exchanges in small craft we made with Deep Space 47, including transfer of naming to the new craft,” the Vulcan woman said. “I am as prepared for the journey as I can be.”

“Fantastic,” Tikva said, slapping a hand along the leading edge of the helm console in joy before walking around and taking her own seat.

Sitting down she briefly looked at the status display panel on the right arm, tapped at a few keys and brought up the ship-wide channel, but didn’t open it just yet, just had her finger hovering over it as she looked at Mac. “Commander MacIntyre, your report?”

“All hands accounted for and we’re good to make sail captain. All department heads have given you their reports,” he said, as official and proper as he could. “Eager in fact if I dare put words in the mouths of the crew.”

“Fantastic,” she answered with a smile, then jabbed her finger down, waiting for the whistle to finish, piped throughout the ship in every nook and cranny big enough for a person to be in. “All hands, this is the captain. I know you’ve all been waiting for this, so let’s cut to the chase and skip any flowery speeches. The order is simple – Atlantis is to set sail into the Thomar Expanse at once. All departments rig for departure.” Her finger lifted off the button and she saw Mac’s smile, giving him a shrug of her shoulders. “Ready?”

“It’s not the Delta Quadrant, but I think we can make it,” he answered.

“Lieutenant Rrr’mmm’bal’rrr, get me the station master please.” She waited for Rrr to action her command, their head nodding when the channel was open, confirmed with the whistle of any open comm channel on the bridge. “Control, this is Atlantis, requesting permission to depart.”

“Atlantis, this is Control. You are clear to depart. Maintain thrusters till five kilometres from the station, cleared for one-quarter impulse to the inner boundary after that. Manoeuvring at your discretion.”

“Roger that Control. It’s been fun,” she replied.

“Safe travels Atlantis, look forward to seeing you again.” With that, the channel was closed.

“Clear all moorings, one-quarter thrusters to port to move us away from the station, then full thrusters when you’re ready T’Val. Velan, make ready for impulse and warp drive at Lieutenant T’Val’s order.”

“Aye aye,” came three separate responses as Rrr, T’Val and Velan all answered. Moorings were cleared, the ship soon sliding sideways away from Deep Space 47 on thrusters barely able to move the mass of the ship until subspace drive-coils could be brought online to circumvent the laws of physics. Then Atlantis truly began to move, but still not at proper speeds until the more powerful impulse engines could be brought to bear.

“Rrr, give the station a farewell flash with the navigation lights will you please?” she asked.

“Thought you wouldn’t ask,” they said, a quick command to the computer forcing all the navigation lights across the mighty Sovereign-class ship to blink slowly three times in unison at nearly double brightness before resuming their normal pattern. To her own credit, T’Val had played along, taking the ‘manoeuvring at your discretion’ statement to heart as she swung the ship around the station slowly, giving everyone in the galleria a good look before Atlantis broke for the boundary line.

“Departure angle please,” Tikva ordered and the stars ahead were replaced with a view of the rapidly shrinking Deep Space 47 and the ship’s docked or orbiting around the station. “Take your last looks folks, I don’t plan to be back here for a while if we can help it. You’ve got the course plotted T’Val?”

“Course laid in ma’am,” came the response.

“Well then, warp seven Lieutenant.” She waited a moment, then raised her right hand, pointer finger raised, the key loop around her finger, and swirled her finger lightly, the keys chattering as they circled about. “Páme,” she said in her native Greek.

For the people of Deep Space 47, by the time Atlantis jumped to warp she was just a particularly bright pinprick of light in a sea of them, save for a momentary flash of blue and a quickly fading streak of light as the ship made a mockery of the classical laws of physics.

To boldly go…