Deep Space 17’s interior rotated on the main viewscreen as the USS San Clemente swung around and positioned itself to move out. The thrusters answered Kree’s instructions as he tapped the console in front of him.

“Station operations have cleared up for departure,” Ops said.

Traven nodded and settled into the newly re-installed captain’s chair. The leather creaked under his shoulder. He didn’t quite trust the chair yet but he didn’t dislike it either.

“Take us out,” he said.

There was no fanfare, no one had come to wave her off, to everyone else she was just another California Class, but to its new crew she was already feeling like home.

As her nose left the interior of the Deep Space 17 the starfield began to tilt on the forward viewscreen. The San Clemente moved cautiously but purposefully, slowly gathering confidence the further she left the interior of the station.

“Helm?” Traven asked.

“Course laid in for Relay Alpha,” Kree said. “ready for the word, Captain.”

T’Lenar, sat at his right tapping buttons on the console built into her Chair, “All departments report ready, Captain.”

“Thank you,” Traven responded

He tapped the comm button on the arm of his chair. “This is the Captain, you all know the plan, lets get it done, watch each other. And…… ” he paused, giving a slight smile, “let’s see how she sings.”

Sora, on the upper deck, glanced toward the window and caught his tone. Dr Paldor, in sickbay, nudged Rebecca Thorne toward the next intake with a look that said almost there. Sh’rol counted down a drill from ninety-eight percent to ninety-nine. Saell rolled her shoulders and fixed her eyes on a dataset that looked suspiciously like a star chart. Rynka checked a harness one last time looking content and Brunak scowled toward the warp core.

Traven took a look around bridge one more time, the new and old crew already seemed to settle around each other a testament to their training. The San Clemente had a reputation he could feel but not yet hear

“Engage,” he said.

The stars stretched and blurred in the viewscreen. The hum in the deckplates deepened, not louder, exactly, but lower. The San Clemente the Mente, he’d heard some junior crew call her already, took her first step into the long road ahead.

Cali class engine rooms were never that ‘big’ but the San Clemente’s refit had expanded her heart in a different direction, not volume, but purpose. The refit crews has squeezed every last bit of space from every department. Where other variants housed extra labs or small comforts, the Mente traded space for bulk storage and the mechanical appetite of industrial replicators.

“The Coolant flow is right where I don’t have to think about it,” Brunak said, pacing the catwalk as if he was on a break he didn’t want, “Don’t let that trick you.” He said to himself jerking his chin toward a cluster of enlisted engineers, Bolian Hrak Venn, Trill Rika T’sar, and a human crewmen he couldn’t quiet remember the name of yet working near. He grunted “You three, if this regulator needle flutters more than two points during a replicator draw, you call me before the computer does, understand?”

Quick glances between them and nods all around followed.

Rynka arrived beneath them, she already had a harness slung with a relay interface bridge, a spanner, and an industrial cutter you brought when you suspected a day might go bad. “We’ll need to prep Bay Two in case things don’t go to plan,” she said

“Already done,” Brunak replied.

Engineering, on any vessel, was a little like an orchestra that didn’t need the conductor to hum along. The Mente was a little different to a usual vessel though, Starfleet Command assigned a senior engineering officer in the form of Rynka Korren, separately from the Chief Engineer to look after off-ship operations.

Traven was confident in the professionalism of the pair but was reminded of something his mother used to tell him about too many cooks.

Brunak glanced around engineering, everyone seemed busy, they all knew what they needed to do. The San Clemente had slept too long. Now she sounded awake.

Sickbay smelt fairly new, the Mente’s Sickbay has been completely re bult during the refit, the damage being to extensive to fix. It still smelt faintly of new polymer. The two biobeds glowed with idle diagnostics while a third had a young crewman sat with the legs dangling from the side. There was a half unpacked crate of medical supplies sat on the Doctors desk.

Dr. Reyna Paldor stood over a display, comparing the information on three PADDs in front of her. “If Ensign J’Rann thinks he’s hiding a caffeine crash,” she muttered to herself, “he’s never met a cardiograph.” She tucked one of the PADD’s under her arm and raised an eyebrow at Rebecca Thorne’s reflection in the glass cabinet.

Rebecca Thorne was stood next to a biobed, she held a tricorder at just the right angle to not make the crewman flinch. “Deep breath in,” she said softly, “and out, There you go.” She clicked the tricorder closed and offered a small wrapped lozenge like a bartender sliding a drink across a bar. “Mint. Bribe.” The crewman grinned.

“Bridge to Dr Paldor” T’Lenar’s voice came across the comm and continued “can you join with first away Team on the relay,”

“Expecting trouble?” Reyna replied

“no Doctor, but it’s the first one”…… “and you don’t want any accidents, understood” Reyna finished.

Cargobay Two was a hive of activity as the engineering crew prepared to arrive at the first relay. Two young ensigns we’re coordinating the the Industrial replicators to the side of the room as crewmen fabricated the standard replacement parts. Two workbees bobbed in the air, their manipulators delicately securing a spool of cabling to a cargo sled. A broad-shouldered chief yelled to be heard, making one of the ensigns jump “Keep the loop clear! I don’t want to explain to medical why any of you managed to lose an arm before we even arrive!”

Rynka watched a moment then barked for attention from the deck, “Team One Me, Paldor, Khol, Smith. Team Two, Ensign Zoral with Gonzalez, T’Varis and Jenkins. Team Three, Ensign Beck with Rixx and Zar to back up the other teams if required. Chief, I’d like you to stay in here and coordinate fabrication efforts, if you need assistance give Brunak a shout on the comm. He’ll be grunting in engineering about not being involved anyway.”

A few of the crewmen laughed before the scowl of the Chief instantly stopped any merriment, more to the enjoyment of Rynka.

The assembled teams turned and continued to check their equipment, making sure they’d got everything they needed.

Ens. Drevan Zoral was a little nervous of being given a team on this first mission on the Mente, sure he’d taken some basic engineering courses at the academy but he was a pilot not an engineer. He wondered if someone had made a mistake. 

Back on the bridge, Rima Saell was studying the science console, she turned to face Traven,

“Sir, Telemetry from the relay chain is messy,” she reported, “but the mess tells a story”

She pulled up a visual recommendation of the signal paths between the relays shimmering spiderweb of signal paths, “the first three relays are showing evidence of micrometeoroid scarring. We can compensate with a field tweaks on the first two, but the third’s damage is extensive and will need complete physical repair.”

“Rynka will love that,” Traven said.

“I’m sure she will,” Saell replied, showing a smile. “But sir,” she hesitated, “the network… it’s more than ‘comms relays.’ It’s us saying we’re back out here. I know we’re not supposed to make this mission the story, but it matters.”

Traven slowly walked over to her station. “It does matter,” he agreed. “But the story is us doing it, getting this right and keeping them out the dark will be what people hear about.”

“your scans will be invaluable to the repairs crews, keep it up” he reassured, he shoulders eased and she turned back to the console.

“Kree, how long till Arrival at the first relay” Traven asked while heading back to his chair

Kree didn’t need to check, he knew the captain well enough now to know to keep an eye on timings, “Arrival at Relay Alpha in 30 mins captain”

Nodding in response, Traven sat back down, still not quite happy with this new chair, he leaned back, letting himself have a single, private moment.

He let his thoughts drift back to their brief period of shore leave, the bar, the laugh he hadn’t meant to make, the unexpected rescue in the valley and the way a crew sounded when they came together. He thought of the crews faces from the briefing in the mess, the faces arranged by department, full of expectations.