“Approaches”
Captain David Spencer
USS Republic

“Republic, Dry Dock 426.” Spencer stated as the doors slid shut and the travel pod pulled away from the station.  He was still examining the information on his padd until he felt the gentle motion of the pod’s gravity generators taking over from the station’s.  He looked up to see the stars swirl as they entered their own Earth orbit.

Despite his hesitancy toward the responsibilities of command, there was always a thrill reporting to a new ship.   But this was a trill of an entirely different nature.  This was going to be his ship: the newly remodeled constitution class Republic.  Although he was scared of letting down his crew and his superiors, he couldn’t help swelling with pride at the idea of captaining such a vessel.

“So, do you want the standard, ‘dramatic show off’ approach?”  The ensign piloting the pod slouched in a chair and rolled his eyes at his own suggestion.  And it appeared that he was chewing gum.

“I beg your pardon, Ensign?” Spencer emphasized the rank with a bite to his voice.

“Oh, sorry, do you want the full fly around…sir!” the youngster didn’t even seem capable of keeping the sarcasm from his voice.  Spencer spun him around in his chair and forced him to make eye contact.

“Mister, not only will we be doing a full inspection fly-by, but if I find any fault in your approach vector, I’ll make sure the rest of your Starfleet career consists of hand pushing travel pods through Earth orbit.  Do I make myself clear?”  The Captain kept his voice calm and level, but the glare in his eyes showed that he meant what he said.  The ensign swallowed heavily.

“Yes, Sir.” He muttered.  But he did sit up straighter and he pulled the gum out of his mouth and stuck it under the flight console.  Captain Spencer chose to ignore the gesture and hovered over the pilot’s shoulder.

Ahead of them, the dry-dock was just coming into view with the ship barely visible through the lattice of it’s frame.  They approached from the rear so that Spencer could see the ship’s name, USS Republic, printed above the shuttle bay.  Coming closer, they could see the workers and small workbees scurrying around the surface of the ship as they continued to prepare it for duty.

Just as it seemed that they were about to enter the open shuttle bay, the young pilot lifted the pod so that it skimmed just above the secondary hull.  The nacelle pylons arched up on either side of them; the nacelles themselves towering above them.  Even sitting silently here in dry-dock they could feel the potential power they held.

Directly ahead of them, the starship’s neck swooped up to the impulse engines that now seemed to point ominously towards them.  Once again, the travel pod ducked to the left at the last minute and swayed just a couple of feet below the huge saucer section.  The ship’s hull covered the view port above them.  It was almost disconcerting when they passed the front edge of the ship and it disappeared completely from view.  For several minutes only stars filled the forward view screen.

Spencer looked at the pilot expectantly only to get a reassuring look from the young man.  After a couple more moments, the pod was swung around to face the Republic head on.  The soft glow from the sensor dish and torpedo ports on the front of the secondary hull gave it enough focus to compete with the gigantically foreshortened 
primary saucer section.  But it was quickly eclipsed as they arched up over the front lip of the saucer.

This time they approached the gentle rise of the saucer where the ship’s bridge resided.  The ships name and call numbers spread out across the hull below them.  Spencer could see in some of the windows of the crew quarters as they also prepared for their new assignment.  But the Captain’s attention was quickly latched onto the bridge as they approached it.  The pod slowed even more as the command center filled the screen.  This was where Spencer would be spending most of his time over the next several years. 

Eventually even that portion of the ship passed behind them and they faced the space between the nacelles.  The framework of the dry dock wrapped like a cocoon around them.  Slowly, the shuttlepod slowed and reversed direction.  The gentle thump of the docking mechanism meeting with the airlock behind the bridge was barely felt.

Spencer picked up his duffel bag as the doors opened.  He paused to look back at the pilot.  The young ensign was sitting at attention at the flight controls staring straight ahead.

“I have to say, that was some impressive piloting.  What’s your name, son?”

“Ensign Martin Calloway, sir.”

“Well, Mr. Calloway, keep up that kind of work and you’ll have a lot of success in Starfleet.”

“Thank you, sir.”  Calloway relaxed and turned to regard his passenger.

“But Ensign, I suggest you get a haircut.”  Spencer smiled at him before he gathered his belongings and left the pod to board his new ship.
 
 

"Approaches II"
Chief Medical Officer, Lt. Baxter Finnley
USS Republic

Baxter watched out the window as the shuttle pod began docking.  He picked up his various bags and slung them over his shoulder.  The shuttle pod clicked home and the door began to swing open.  An ensign was standing just inside the pod, looking as if he was about to disembark.

"Ensign, isn't this the shuttle carrying personnel over to the Republic?" Finnley asked.

"Umm, yeah, I guess it is.  I was just finished the last run... I thought.  Oh well, I guess I'll take one more.  I just wish you guys would come on time when I'm doing this runs," the Ensign responded.

"Oh, I'm late?  I thought this run was supposed to be the 16:30 run... I've been here since 16:27, and you weren't here," Finnley responded.

"Hrm.  Well, I guess I did leave a bit early last time.  That's what I get for having drawn ferry duty, and having superior officers in a rush to get over there...  Well, those things look heavy, sir, so I suggest you get on board and set them down.  Did you want the full flyby too?"

"Huh?  The full flyby?  Of the ship, you mean?  Ensign, what colour is this?" He responded, pointing to the shirt peaking through at the neck of his uniform.

"Uh, blue, sir..."

"That's right.  I'm a doctor, not an engineer, and certainly no Captain all excited over their new ship.  Just get me there by the fastest route, and I can get into Sickbay, and you can get off your shift and go get some dinner."

"Uh, okay, sure, no problem.  You know, you wouldn't believe the number of upper brass who've been in this shuttle today, each of them wanting a private ride over to the Republic, and everyone of them wanting to Ooooh and Aaaah over the call letters embossed into her front.  I was really starting to get sick of it," the Ensign stated as he began maneuvering away from the station.

"I understand completely.  Listen, what's your name, Ensign?"

"Martin Calloway," replied the Ensign, in somewhat of a more enthusiastic voice.

"Well, Martin, well met.  So, who are some of these upper brass who've been running you ragged all day?"

"Well... The run right before yours?  The officer who wouldn't wait the extra few minutes for the scheduled take off time?  That was Captain Spencer.  He really upbraided me when I sounded less than enthused about flying around the ship and back."

"Oh, that's understandable.  You're talking about his first command.  That's his ship, and lord knows Captains are touchy when it comes to their ships.  Right now, it's like his new girlfriend, and he's passionately in love with her.  You insult some guy's girlfriend, and he usually takes offense.  Give it a while, and she'll be his wife.  His first wife, anyway..." Baxter chuckled.

"Gee, guess I really walked on his toes then, huh.  I just hope he doesn't remember that he want's me to get my hair cut."

"He told you to get your hair cut???  Well, then, I wonder what he's going to say about mine?" Baxter asked as he pointed at the pony tail at the back of his neck.

"I don't know, sir... but here we are at the Republic.  Welcome aboard.  I'm sure I'll see you again in the halls," Ensign Calloway said as he gently landed the shuttle amidst the hustle and bustle of the Operations crew moving equipment around the bay.

The doors began to open at the back of the Shuttle, and Baxter picked up his baggage, slinging it around himself again.  "Well, thanks for the lift, Martin.  Stop by Sickbay sometime next week.  I'll give you your first medical exam for free for such a nice, quick ride," he said as he walked out of the back of the shuttle.

"But sir, don't we all have to.... Oh, never mind."
 

“The First Time”
Tarrah
USS Republic

She looked into the mirror as she pulled the turtleneck over her head.  The cadet-red shirt contrasted sharply with her green skin and hair.  Then, with the burgundy tunic pulled on next, Cadet Tarrah stepped back to admire her full figure.

It felt good to be in a real Starfleet uniform and out of the cadet clothing she had been forced to wear for the last four years.  Sure, she was still a cadet, but now she would be debarking on her first real deep space assignment.  It represented a feeling of freedom that she hadn’t felt her entire life.

After being rescued from a live of slavery, she had entered the rigorous routine of Academic life.  While she expected challenges, at least they were different that what she had experienced under her Orion overseers.  And now this step of her life promised an even greater opportunity to exercise her newfound freedom.

And so, with one more glance in the mirror, Tarrah gathered the rest of her belongings and made her way to the academy transporters.  Even this would be a new experience.   While she had used the transporters frequently to travel around the planet, this time her particles would be projected directly into space, onto her new assignment, the Republic.

After acknowledging her orders with the transporter operator, she took her place on the glowing disk.  In a moment, the hum of the device turned into a glow that consumed her before she disappeared to her new adventure.