Learn to Fly

Posted on Tue Sep 1st, 2026 @ 1:47am by Captain Mhiess Hru’da & Lieutenant Commander Lin Yue & Lieutenant Commander Melanie D'BrooNi- Haistro & Lieutenant Lilolette Cleminson & Lieutenant Zhi'rev

1,663 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Bloodline
Location: Bridge, U.S.S. Saratoga
Timeline: 2439-08-12, 10:00

As the chronometer over the forward viewscreen rolled over to precisely 10:00 hours on Friday, August 12, 2439, the Turbolift doors parted, admitting Captain Mhiess Hru’da to Deck 1 for the very first time. Across a thousand worlds, billions were celebrating Federation Day, but atop the Saratoga’s nerve center, the air was taut with quiet focus as the Intrepid II Class vessel prepared for departure.

Mhiess paused beside the alcove, his dark, calculating eyes taking in the layout of the room. The Saratoga's design was an evolution of the sleek efficiency engineered for her direct predecessor. Framing the center of the room was the sweeping Tactical Arch, its dark horseshoe structure wrapping behind the dual command chairs. Step-down access led directly into the central pit, where the combined Flight Control and Operations consoles sat low, offering an unobstructed line of sight to the massive, high-resolution viewscreen dominating the forward bulkhead.

His boots struck the carpeted deck in a deliberate rhythm as he stepped into the command well, identifying that Rear Admiral Wazeiya stood near the starboard perimeter stations as the Captain passed. The central island discarded the traditional three-chair arrangement for a streamlined two-seat configuration. Settling into the starboard command chair, Mhiess placed his hands over the shared central console. The LCARS interface hummed to life instantly, syncing his encrypted command authorization codes and displaying real-time telemetry across the matte glass.

"Report," Mhiess commanded, his deep baritone carrying effortlessly across the open floor plan.

Mhiess remained stoic and motionless in the starboard command chair, his dark, calculating eyes shifting toward Commander Fox as the XO delivered his status update. He listened to the report with the cold, hyper-analytical discipline of a seasoned strategist, absorbing the stream of main engine telemetry and reactor output with complete, unyielding composure. His broad frame sat rigidly upright, hands resting flat beside the central console as he mentally integrated the engineering data into the Saratoga’s overall operational readiness.

Zhi paused in the doorway of the turbo lift car as it carried him to the bridge. The fair haired Vulcan felt awed by the sheer elegance and beauty of the bridge design. He didn't move for several seconds, allowing himself to take it all in, despite the illogic of it all. After several seconds, he sedately moved to where he assumed that the science station would be.

The console sprang to life as soon as his left hand hovered over the console, which seemed to startle him for just a moment as he yanked his hand back just as fast. Settling his surprise, he reached out again and the interface reacted to his presence a second time. It showed him everything his clearance allowed him to see, and he smiled as his eyes glanced over the incoming data. "Science is online," he announced, remembering the captain calling for a report just as he'd arrived on the bridge.

Mel didn't get to be on the bridge often so she enjoyed being on there when she could especially for the important things. She walked on the bridge and took the additional seat which was available to her when on the bridge. "Captain," she greeted the CO. She placed her medical kit down gently by the chair.

Opening her console she already knew everything was green across the board. "Sickbay is fully stocked, fully staffed and ready to go sir," she told him.

Mhiess’s gaze swept across the curved console layouts, noting the swift responsiveness of the crew as each station checked in. His dark eyes lingered for a fraction of a second on the Vulcan officer at Science, taking in the brief hesitation before the terminal stabilized, then shifted toward the additional seat near the perimeter where the medical kit was stowed. Every movement on the Saratoga’s Deck 1 carried the distinct edge of a maiden deployment—sharp, deliberate, and expectant.

"Acknowledged," Mhiess said, his baritone steady as his fingers swept across the shared command console to acknowledge the incoming department green-lights. Without turning his head, he maintained his focus on the forward viewscreen, where the illuminated scaffolding of McKinley Station framed the blue curve of Earth beyond. He paused, allowing a momentary silence to settle over the command well as he awaited the remaining primary department heads to report in before authorizing the release of their moorings.

The hush over the bridge remained taut, punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic hum of the warp core thrumming somewhere deep within the Saratoga’s sleek spaceframe. On the forward viewscreen, magnetic docking clamps gleamed against the stark light of the McKinley Station gantries, waiting for the final sequence.

The Turbolift chimed again—a soft, double-toned pulse signaling an incoming arrival.

From the starboard periphery, the Tactical Arch hummed as its targeted sensors completed a diagnostic sweep, its alert status indicators resting on a calm, condition green. Every system, from the Phaser arrays to the sub-space telemetry links, was locked in, eagerly awaiting the rest of the puzzle to fall into place.

Mhiess’s hand hovered over the centralized LCARS interface, the real-time telemetry reflecting softly in his dark eyes. The ship was alive, breathing, and on the verge of slipping her moorings.

"Engineering, Flight Control, Tactical," Mhiess called out into the expectant air, his voice cutting cleanly through the ambient Bridge white noise. "Confirm status."

“Captain, all tactical systems are fully operational and standing by. Torpedo magazines are fully stocked, and the shield grid is responding at one hundred percent efficiency."

Lin's gaze briefly shifted toward the forward viewscreen, and for perhaps the first time that morning, a flicker of anticipation softened her otherwise measured expression. The Saratoga was ready. Lin had been one of the few with Saratoga since she had completed construction and now weeks of working on her systems, weapons checks, tactical simulations, and system calibrations had brought them to this moment, and now she would finally see the ship leave its berth and become what it had been designed to be. There was something quietly exhilarating about watching a vessel prepare for its first deployment—particularly knowing that, when the moment came, she would be the officer responsible for bringing its tactical systems to bear.

The turbolift doors parted, the accompanying hiss echoed around Saratoga's main bridge. Lilolette emerged, confidently striding over to her post at the conn. She gently placed her hand on her relief's shoulder. "Thank you, Ensign." she said. Exchanging a nod with the Ensign as he departed, Lilolette sat, gave her console a quick once-over. All was in order. Saratoga was ready to depart on Mhiess' command. "We're ready to fly on your command, Captain." reported Lilolette.

Mhiess absorbed the incoming telemetry as each primary department confirmed operational readiness, his posture unyielding in the starboard seat. The quiet, rhythmic pulse of the Saratoga’s spaceframe seemed to accelerate, vibrating softly through the carpeted deck plating as the final checks locked into place. With a smooth, practiced motion of his hand across the central LCARS console, he acknowledged the reports and established direct authorization to release the vessel from McKinley Station.

"Moorings released," Mhiess declared, his voice cutting clearly across the Bridge with absolute authority. "Thrusters at one-quarter ahead, Helm, clear the station scaffolding before engaging impulse."

As Mhiess spoke, Lilolette lowered her gaze from the viewscreen, to the conn. "Aye, Captain." she replied. Her fingers danced across its smooth surface, inputting the necessary commands. Moments later, Saratoga's thrusters began to propel the vessel from the confines of the dock. With the course already laid in, all Lilolette had left to do was to set the speed.

Mhiess sat motionless in the starboard command chair as the viewscreen shifted. Outside, the blue marble of Earth rotated lazily against the dark expanse of space, framing the towering lattice of McKinley Station as the Saratoga glided silently past its outer gantries. The subtle, almost imperceptible shift in gravity and the gentle pull of sublight acceleration vibrated up through the deck plates and into the soles of his boots. He kept his eyes fixed on the viewscreen, tracking the navigational vector overlaying the stars. Around him, the hum of the Bridge was a well-oiled machine: soft LCARS chirps from the side stations, the steady sweep of Tactical diagnostics along the arch behind him, and the precise, smooth inputs from the Helm console below.

"Acknowledge," Mhiess replied, his voice calm, measured, and absolute. He swept a gloved hand across the central armrest console, transferring primary navigation control fully to the Helm and sending a green-light handshake down to Main Engineering. "Take us out of the Sol system, Lieutenant. Full impulse until we clear the system boundary, then lay in course for our primary patrol vector and engage Warp at your discretion."

"Full impulse engaged, course is laid in to the edge of the solar system." began Lilolette, before tapping in the next set of commands. "Course for our designated patrol route has also been laid in."

Mhiess remained seated in absolute, imposing stillness as the Saratoga glided steadily past Jupiter's trailing moons. The vast blue marble of Earth was fading into the starry backdrop behind them, replaced by the deep, open expanse of space. A subtle vibration from the sublight engines thrummed upward through the carpeted deck plating and into the soles of his boots, a silent testament to the raw kinetic power balanced beneath his hand.

He did not indulge in grand speeches or dramatic flourishes. For a mind forged in the crucible of survival, disciplined patience, and cold strategy, execution was the only metric that carried value. He leaned forward slightly, resting his gloved hands over the matte glass of the central console.

"Jho'ka," Mhiess commanded, his deep baritone cutting through the ambient hum of the Bridge with stoic, absolute authority.

With a sharp, brilliant flash of blue-shifted light, the Sol system dissolved into the hypnotic, streaking lines of warp space. The Saratoga leaped forward into the void, embarking on her maiden patrol with cold, flawless efficiency.

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