It had been a long time since Maxwell had been able to get any decent sleep. The ship had remained connected to the starbase power grid for many weeks, while the engineers worked diligently to seal the massive hole in the saucer and to restore the ship back to what it once was. Granted, much of that section of the saucer is brand new compared to the rest of the ship, but nevertheless, she was herself again. Even more so, just a week ago, the new magnetic interlocks were installed, tested and passed inspection before the new warp core was brought online.

The moment that his ship was back under its own power, was the moment he could finally rest easily. Same goes for the engineers, who Maxwell had pestered day after day on repair updates. So much so, Maxwell may have got himself dragged into the Commodore’s office in regards to ‘giving the workers a hard time’. He did his best to explain his reasons, but regardless, he had to leave the engineers alone.

But now, Maxwell can return to his normal morning routine. The alarm would sound at four in the morning, and with new invigoration, the bed sheets would be tossed to the side and Maxwell quickly rolled out of bed. First thing he would do would begin with his routine stretches, to loosen up his muscles and get them ready. Then he would drop to the floor and begin his morning exercises, which consisted of standard push-ups, sit-ups and squats.

Over an hour later of morning prep and breakfast, Maxwell stepped out of his quarters to find Art in the corridor with his hands clasped behind his back. “Have you been waiting long?” Maxwell asked.

“Actually,” Art smirked. “I just got here.” He began to walk with Maxwell as they headed down the corridor for the nearest turbolift. Art noticed the new pep in Maxwell’s steps. “You seem different today.”

Maxwell chuckled softly. “This ship-”

“Is your home,” Art finished. “I know. We all know.”

“Sorry,” Maxwell said apologetically. “I know I say it a lot. But I could never see myself on another starship again. The time when I had left the Sovereign, even when I was temporarily in command of another ship, I felt this awful pit in my stomach. She’s more than home, Art. She’s-”

“Family,” Art finished once again. “You know there are officers out there that see a starship as nothing more than an object, right?”

Maxwell smirked. “That’s their own fault for not opening themselves up and letting themselves have some ounce of emotion.”

“Ooh,” Art shook his head. “Better not let them hear that. The arguments you’d be starting would last for decades.”

Maxwell laughed as they stepped into the turbolift. They had walked at a slow pace, or at least Maxwell did and Art just followed. “Bridge.” Maxwell ordered before he turned slightly at the waist to look at Art. “Nothing feels better than your ship running on its own power, Number One. The delays in repairs did not help at all, either.”

“Unfortunately,” Art sighed. “It was inevitable. From you pestering the engineers on repair updates to shipments being sent to the wrong starbase.”

“Yeah!” Maxwell exclaimed. “I asked the Commodore, ‘Who the hell confuses Starbase Seventy-Two with Starbase Twenty-Seven? They’re not even in the same damn quadrant!’ And you know what she said?”

“Hmm?” Art questioned.

“Get this,” Maxwell began. “She tried to lay it off as a joke, which I appreciate her for trying to lighten up the mood, but she said ‘Someone thought it be funny to switch the numbers around’.” Which apparently was a good joke because there was a sudden burst of laughter from Art, that which was contagious enough to get Maxwell going. And then the turbolift doors opened, and those on the Bridge would see two grown men keeled over with their hands on their sides.

Maxwell cleared his throat once the giggles were gone as they both stepped out onto the bridge deck. Nevertheless, he could care less what some people might think. It actually was pretty funny.

“So,” Art rubbed the tears out of his eyes with his thumbs. “What was the real deal then?”

Maxwell sighed. “Someone did switch the numbers. Accidentally, of course. They think it was a Bolian named Chel. Or Chang. Bel?” Maxwell shook his head. “Point is, I finally got some decent sleep and I’ve never felt more amazing in my life.”

“Well then,” Art grinned as he unzipped his jacket and pulled a padd out from inside. “Then you’re going to love this.” He zipped his jacket back up after Maxwell took the padd from him.

Maxwell skimmed over it, only to start over and skim it again. This time he had to start over, again, and read it more slowly to make sure it was real. “Oh. The crew is going to love this.” Maxwell finally said, with a big smile on his face.