In the vast expanse of space, a small Runabout hurtled through the starlit abyss. Its sleek exterior gleamed under the distant glow of celestial bodies, as it ventured forth on its purposeful journey.

Within the compact cockpit, two crew members operated with utmost precision. Skilled hands manoeuvred the controls, deftly plotting a course through the infinite reaches of space. The low hum of the engines provided a steady rhythm, harmonising with the pulsing starscape outside.

Through the wide viewport, a breathtaking cosmic tableau unfolded. Nebulous clouds of vibrant hues drifted by, casting ethereal shadows on the ship’s hull. Distant galaxies dotted the expanse, their twinkling lights like celestial beacons guiding the way. Inside the Runabout, the atmosphere was one of focus and determination. Crew members, adorned in their Starfleet uniforms, worked in tandem, their expertise honed through years of training. The ship’s instruments hummed with data, displaying a wealth of information about the surrounding cosmos.

As the Runabout sailed through the depths of space, it carried with it the hopes and aspirations of its crew. With each passing moment, the Runabout ventured further into the unknown, its engines propelling it forward with a sense of purpose. In the vast expanse of the cosmos, it was a mere speck, yet within its compact confines, it housed the potential for extraordinary discoveries and untold adventures.

Lieutenant Commander Denen Nes, a Tellarite with short brown hair and a short beard, sat restlessly in the small cockpit of the Runabout. He was a seasoned engineer, having served as the Chief Engineer of the Galaxy-class USS Solaria for several years. Denen’s reputation for his engineering prowess was well-known, but so was his argumentative and brash demeanour, often bordering on rudeness.

Beside him, Lieutenant Commander Teyahna, an Orion/Romulan hybrid with light green skin, pointed ears, and beautifully styled hair, exuded an air of calm and confidence. As the former Chief Science Officer aboard the USS Asgard, an Excelsior-II Class heavy cruiser, Teyahna had also earned recognition for her intelligence and quick wit. While Denen’s company grated on her nerves, she matched his temperament with sarcasm and cockiness.

Two days had passed since they had departed Deneb, and the cramped Runabout had become their temporary prison. The close quarters had exacerbated their contrasting personalities, and the tension between them was palpable. His eating habits, consisting of messy, noisy slurps and an insatiable appetite, grated on Teyahna’s nerves. Meanwhile, her constant preening and meticulous grooming irritated Denen to no end. ‘Beauty before Duty’ seemed to be her mantra, well, according to the Tellarite anyway.

Completing yet another sensor sweep, Denen let out a loud and exaggerated sigh, making sure to capture Teyahna’s attention. “Is there no end to this journey, this turmoil?! I’d rather be back on the Solaria, where I had a proper workspace and a crew who knew how to appreciate my talents.”

Teyahna raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “Oh, I’m sure the Solaria is weeping at the loss of your delightful company, Denen. But hey, look on the bright side,” she paused and turned to look him dead in the eye, “at least you’re stuck with me instead.”

Denen shot her a withering glare, his Tellarite, pig-like features contorted with annoyance. “Lucky me.”

The Runabout hummed with the dull sound of the engines, and the silence settled between them. Teyahna couldn’t help but feel a flicker of amusement amidst the tension. As much as Denen’s brashness irked her, she couldn’t deny the intelligence and reputation that preceded him.

Breaking the silence, she leaned back in her seat, a smirk causing wrinkles in her delicate cheeks. “You know, Denen, despite your unbearable eating habits and insufferable grumpiness, I do have to admit that you’re one of the finest engineers I’ve had the pleasure of being cooped up with.”

Denen snorted, his gruff exterior softening ever so slightly. “Well, I suppose you’re not entirely intolerable yourself. Your scientific acumen is commendable, even if your incessant preening drives me insane.”

Teyahna laughed, the tension between them easing just a fraction. “Ah, Denen, the grumpy genius. I can’t wait to see the crew’s reaction when we finally arrive on the Hathaway and they are presented with… you. It’ll be an adventure, won’t it?” She asked him playfully.

Denen grumbled, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I suppose it will be. Brace yourself, though. Our reputations precede us, and I doubt this journey will be smooth sailing.”

With yet another day of travel under their proverbial belts, the monotony of their journey was wearing on their last, frayed nerves, and the close quarters only exacerbated their growing frustration. Teyahna, seeking respite from the tedium, had dozed off at the helm, allowing the autopilot to guide the ship for the rest of its journey to Starbase 38.

As Teyahna drifted into a restless sleep, Denen seized the opportunity to break the silence. He accessed the ship’s audio system and cranked up the volume, filling the small cockpit with his preferred style of music—a cacophony of warbling and clashing tones. Tellarite opera. The sudden burst of sound jolted Teyahna awake, her eyes snapping open with annoyance.

“What in the name of all the galaxies is that noise?!” Teyahna exclaimed, rubbing her temples. “Denen, I swear, if you don’t turn that off this instant, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Denen smirked, enjoying the reaction he had elicited. “Come on, Teyahna, it’s good for the soul. You need some excitement in your life.”

“Excitement? This is not excitement, Denen, this is pure torture,” Teyahna shot back, her voice laced with irritation. “We’re stuck in this tin can together, and you insist on subjecting me to your questionable taste in music.”

“It is the very best Tellarite opera!” The engineer countered, his voice almost at a crescendo.

The argument escalated as tempers flared, their words lashing out at each other in the confines of the cockpit. The tension reached its peak when a loud alarm blared through the small craft, interrupting their heated exchange. They both fell silent, their annoyance momentarily forgotten.

“What’s happening?” Teyahna asked, her voice now filled with concern.

Denen quickly checked the console and his eyes widened with alarm. “We’re approaching Starbase 38 too fast! We need to take control and bring us out of warp.”

Working in unison, the bickering officers snapped back into their professional roles. Denen took hold of the controls and skillfully manoeuvred the Runabout, disengaging the warp drive and slowing their approach. The enormous expanse of Starbase 38 came into view, its massive structure stretching out into space.

As they entered the hangar doors, their anxious expressions eased, and a spark of excitement flickered in their eyes. The sight of the USS Hathaway, their new home, evoked a sense of relief and anticipation. It was a magnificent starship, sleek and formidable, with four lengthy nacelles protruding aft. She sat, motionless and silent, waiting to welcome them.

In a matter of minutes, the Hathaway signalled their permission to dock, and the Runabout occupants soon found themselves under the care of the starship’s tractor emitter, guiding them safely to port. Once the clatter of the Runabout hitting the deck plating of the shuttle bay reverberated through the small auxiliary craft, the two officers grabbed their belongings and swiftly disembarked, stepping onto the unfamiliar deck of their new vessel. The hustle and bustle of Starfleet personnel surrounded them, the energy and purpose in the air refreshing after their prolonged confinement.

Denen turned to Teyahna, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, Teyahna, it seems we’ve finally arrived. Our new home.”

Teyahna mirrored his smile, her eyes shining with newfound enthusiasm. “Indeed. Despite our differences and the bumpy journey, I think we’re going to make quite the team here.”

As they walked together towards the exit, the two felt a surge of optimism wash over them. The shared experience of the arduous journey had forged a connection, and their bickering had given way to a newfound camaraderie. While one supposedly hated the idea of a new home, the other treated the opportunity as an adventure. Both, however, would soon realise that this crew needed them almost as much as they would need their new crewmates.

Emerging from the port side turbo lift, Denen and Teyahna felt a surge of excitement as they stepped onto the bridge. The sleek and sophisticated command centre was a testament to the technological marvels of Starfleet in the 25th century. Their eyes widened as they took in the panoramic views of the vast expanse of space displayed on the main viewscreen that dominated the entire forward bulkhead (and then some).

Seated in the command chair, Captain Keziah Nazir greeted the officers with a warm smile. Her presence exuded confidence and authority, and they were immediately struck by her commanding presence. As well as the relief etched into the fine lines on her otherwise blemish-free face. They approached her, offering their respectful greetings and confirming their orders to join her crew. After a few minutes of conversation, regaling tales of their previous postings and what brought them to Hathaway, the Captain could sense that these two officers, these seasoned pros and experts in their respective fields, were the right fit for their mission.

Pleased to have the final missing pieces to her puzzle, the formalities concluded, and the Captain’s gaze shifted to the bustling operations on the bridge.

Entering the bridge from the observation lounge, Commander Noli immediately noted the newcomers and approached them, extending a warm welcome whilst letting them know (in no uncertain terms) that when it came to crew performance, her expectations were massive. Denen approved, Teyahna not so much. But despite this, the scientist noted that Noli’s demeanour was friendly yet authoritative, and she exuded a sense of camaraderie that put everyone (mostly everyone) at ease.

While the introductions and pleasantries unfolded behind the forward stations, Lieutenant Prida, Denen’s immediate predecessor, busily coordinated with Station Operations to obtain clearance for the Hathaway’s departure. The ship’s systems hummed with anticipation, awaiting the green light for their journey.

Finally, the awaited permission arrived. Captain Nazir, her voice steady and confident, gave the order to Lieutenant Mitchell to initiate their departure. With a touch of his console, Flyboy expertly guided Hathaway as it gracefully manoeuvred away from the mooring arms. The massive hangar doors slowly parted, revealing the breathtaking expanse of space beyond, and as the ship inched forward, its thrusters propelling it with precision and grace, she cleared the threshold and pulled away into the vastness of the cosmos.

Denen and Teyahna found themselves gripping the edges of their stations, their excitement mounting as they felt the exhilaration of the ship’s propulsion. The stars streaked by in mesmerizing trails of light as the Hathaway surged forward, its destination set, and its mission awaiting them. Denen shot his new friend a look as if to acknowledge the seamless transition of the ship from impulse to the maximum velocities available to her.

A chiming from the operations station drew the Captain’s attention, pulling the Trill out of her seat to take a look at Prida’s disturbance, After sharing a confused glance and a shrug of the shoulders with her young colleague, the Captain turned on her feet and nodded at Noli.

“You have the bridge, Number One. I’ll be in the ready room,” Nazir informed her executive, then vanished into the private office.

Watching the Captain vacate the bridge, Noli took a few steps from the command area and rested her hand on the headrest behind Prida. “Lieutenant?” She queried, looking down at the Bajassian with a raised eyebrow.

“Fleet Captain Romaes…” she shrugged, smirking at the emphasis she put on the new TFCO’s rank, knowing full well the reaction it would draw from her colleague.

“For prophet’s sake! Will that man’s ego ever rest? First TFXO, then Discovery, after that it’s TFCO, and now bloody Fleet Captain…” The blonde’s moaning about their brethren caused the younger woman to chuckle. “Go on, what does he want this time?” She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” the Ops chief shrugged again, “it’s Captain’s priority.”

As the nightmare words left the youngster’s mouth, Noli’s arms dropped to her side and she could feel the frown lines forming on her forehead. Captain’s priority meant only one thing: trouble.