I just realized the lines in between the sections were all messed up. I've fixed them in this chapter and chapter 2. Hope this makes it a little easier to read!


Space, the final frontier: these are the voyages of the starship Atlas: its continuing mission to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no one has gone before.


Thel Kres'sh glared at the human male. The man stared back defiantly at him, as if the Andorian were not a Starfleet officer and totally capable of pulverizing him.

Thel hissed a warning as the human changed his position, signaling that he was ready for whatever his opponent was about to try. The human—Thel couldn't recall his name—froze.

Then, in a flash, the human rushed at him, holding something in his right hand. Thel caught him moments before the blade would have made contact with his skin. He pushed, and the man stumbled back a few feet before catching himself. But before he could regain his balance, Thel struck out at him, his fist connecting with the human's face. He continued to strike the human, his anger seeming to drown out all sense of time.

He felt a hand on his chest."That's enough." A human woman of average size (for a human) with shoulder-length black hair and surprisingly bright gray eyes had positioned herself between the two males. Although both were several centimeters taller than her, and definitely stronger, something about her commanded their attention, making it impossible to continue their fight.

"Let's just take a deep breath and think about things for a minute," she said, her voice firm and compelling. Thel lowered his fist.

"Your help is not necessary, human woman," Kres'sh hissed. "The situation was under my control."

"Yes, I could see that," she replied sarcastically, her harsh gaze making Kres'sh flinch imperceptibly.

A low moan cut through the subsequent silence. Threl looked down, and saw for the first time how much damage he had done to the human—Zaroden, he recalled. The man was laying against the bar, his face was cut, and blood was pouring from a wound at his mouth. More blood—red human blood—was on Thel's blue-skinned hands, creating an odd, purplish stain.

"Is beating people senseless part of your Starfleet training, Lieutenant?" the woman continued. He suddenly regretted not trading in his yellow uniform for less conspicuous attire.

"He started it." Thel couldn't believe he had just said that. He sounded like a stubborn child.

"You finished it," the woman retorted. "I suggest you get out before the owner finds out about this. He's not a forgiving man."

Thel said nothing, simply nodded and did as she said. In situations like these, he had learned, it was best to go quietly. Besides, even he had heard of Kyle Harrowden's reputation as the most miserly, by-the-book, not to mention bigoted man this side of the Federation.


The hall was a sea of bodies, consisting of representatives of the multitude of races that made up the United Federation of Planets. One blond head bounced up and down rhythmically as its owner searched frantically for her friend.

Barely four months previously, Cadet Alexandria Thatcher had graduated from the Academy and become Ensign Alexandria Thatcher. As one of the top students in her class, she had been quickly assigned to a starship.

That was why she was here today—to begin her service aboard the USS Atlas, the fleet's newest Excelsior-class starship. It was no Enterprise, but she was still honored to be posted aboard it. A new ship meant new opportunities, and a new chance for adventure. This was why she had joined Starfleet.

Alex jumped again, but wasn't even close to being able to see over the crowd. At 1.5 meters, she was shorter than any other adult she knew. This was not at all helpful in trying to find her friend and soon-to-be fellow crew member, Mark Nguyen. She sighed. They had agreed to meet each other, but had forgotten to arrange just how they would find each other. This was a big problem.

As Alex was pushed about by the crowd, she studied her surroundings carefully. There had to be some high point where she could see everyone in the room. There! That room overhead would do nicely. It hung out over the main area, overlooking the space with transparent walls.

There was a turbolift below the room, and Alex stepped in quickly behind a lieutenant whose attention was occupied by the padd in his hands. "Level two," he said, and the lift began to rise.

The doors hissed open, revealing a large, spacious lounge-type area. The most central area of the room, including that by the longest window across from her, was filled with small sets of tables and chairs. Comfortable armchairs and couches lined the other, side windows. Alex made a beeline for the spot she judged would give her the best view of the crowd.

"Can I help you, Ensign?" Alex jumped at the unexpected question and whirled around.

"Mark!" she cried. "I was just looking for you!" She threw herself onto him, crushing him in an embrace with a strength that belied her size. "Are you ready? When are we supposed to beam up?"

"I'm not sure," he confessed, prying the 19-year-old off of him. "I think they said 0900 hours, but I could be wrong."

"Oh." Alex let the subject drop; there would be time aplenty to worry about it. She faced the window again. "I wish Luke were here." The sadness in her voice was striking.

Mark stood just behind her right shoulder. "I do too," he said. Luke Thatcher had been his close friend at the Academy and on board the Oregon, both officers' first assignment.

"He'd be proud of you—you're only nineteen, and not only have you already graduated from the academy near the top of your class, but you've been posted aboard Starfleet's newest ship within a year of graduating. How many people can say that?" The age of the typical graduate was at least twenty one.

Alex looked at her feet. "I know."

Her companion sighed. If he were being completely open, he would tell her he was just as proud of her as if she were his own sister. Had he just managed to make her worse?

"Listen, kid. Alex. I miss that brother of yours as much as you do. Heck, I was even there when it happened. But we've both got to move on. He wouldn't want you to waste your life because you were still mourning him."

"Mark, I know that. I just meant that I miss him."

He sighed. "Yeah. I know."

Alex looked at her friend's somber face. Had she hurt his feelings somehow? "You're right, though."

"Huh?"

"About needing to move on. After all, we have a galaxy to explore."

Mark smiled. "You're pretty excited about that, aren't you?"

Alex turned and looked at him with mock surprise. "Of course I am! I've been working toward this for three years."

"Well, we'll be going on board soon enough. Do you have all your stuff?"

"Yes—but I left it in my dorm. I should go get it."

"I'll come with you."

Mark trailed behind Alex as she returned to the quarters she had occupied since entering the Academy. He could practically see the excitement radiating from her as she bounced down the corridors, and confessed to himself that he was pretty eager himself. It was hardly his first starship assignment, but he'd never been a science officer—or a second officer—before.

Yes, the USS Atlas held many adventures in store for both of them, he was sure. He would just have to help Alex with her luggage before he could get to them. Who knew someone so small could pack such heavy suitcases?


"Have you tested the transporters yet, Ensign?"

"Er... no, sir. I-"

"Why not?"

"Sir, you had me fixing the port turbolift on the bridge. I though Ensign Gordimer was supposed to-"

"Ensign Barrows, the rest of the crew is expecting to be beamed up in one hour. Do you expect me to allow people to be dematerialized by that thing if we don't even know it works?"

"Sir, I-"

"Come with me, Ensign. We have a transporter to test."

"Yes, sir."

Tyler Barrows watched his commanding officer warily as he followed her to the transporter room. Chief Engineer Carol Lylan was brilliant, he admitted, but her people skills left much to be desired. He had been on the Atlas for a week, assisting in last-minute preparations for the ship's departure, and in all that time, the Lieutenant Commander had yet to let him finish a sentence.

He supposed it was part of being brilliant—you expected everyone else to be able to keep up with you, and when they didn't, you got angry.

Carol stood with her arm crossed as the ensign stood at the transporter controls. On the pad sat an empty storage container—the perfect subject for a transporter test. Sure, running a diagnostic might be an easier way to identify any malfunctions, and that was the route most engineers would take, but Carol Lylan was hardly "most engineers." Besides, there were certain things that diagnostics didn't always pick up, and if there was a problem, she didn't want to find out about it in the middle of beaming up an actual person. Storage containers were far easier to replace.

"Energize," she said.

The container dissolved with a hum, and Carol nodded at the ensign. "So far so good. Now bring it back up."

Barrows touched the transporter controls again, and the box began to reform on the transporter platform. However, the image flickered, and almost vanished. "What's wrong?" Lylan barked.

"I'm not sure. I have the signal just fine, but-"

"Give me that." She moved the ensign out of the way and took over the controls. He was right—there was nothing wrong with the container's signal—something else was keeping it from reforming properly. Gritting her teeth, Carol adjusted the controls slightly. The storage container flickered again, then disappeared for good.

Carol slammed her fist down on the console. "Lost it." She gave Ensign Barrows a Didn't-I-Tell-You kind of look. "Glad that wasn't the captain, aren't you?"

Tyler nodded uncertainly. The captain was the Chief Engineer's older sister. He would hate to be anywhere near the younger sister, let alone to be held responsible, if anything happened to the older one.

He only hoped the captain's temper was less... volatile than her sister's.

Chief Engineer Lylan activated her communicator. "Atlas to Captain Lylan. Sara, we have a problem."

"Lylan here. What is it, Carrie?"

"We're having some difficulties with the transporters. I'm going to have to take them offline until I can fix them."

"Understood. We'll just have to take the shuttles, then. Captain out."


Mark and Alex were heading toward the transporter platform for beam-up to the ship when they were interrupted by the intercom.

"This is Captain Lylan to the crew of the Atlas. Due to a problem with the transporters, boarding of the ship will be conducted via shuttlecraft. All crew members are to report to the shuttlebay at the scheduled time of 0900 hours. Lylan out."

"0900—I knew it," Mark said.

"I wonder what could be wrong with the transporters," Alex mused. She frowned slightly. "Where is the shuttlebay?"

"This way, I think. Follow me."

It turned out the shuttlebay was not that way after all. Mark and Alex had to eventually ask a helpful computer console for directions, which Alex remarked that they should have done in the first place.

They finally arrived just as Alex's chronometer beeped 0900 hours and were directed to an available shuttlecraft. As they took their seats at the control panel, two other officers entered the shuttle and sat behind them.

Mark turned his seat around. One of them was an Andorian lieutenant. The other, a commander, looked human except for his irises, which were completely black. A Betazoid, then.

The Betazoid in question extended his hand to the scrutinizing human lieutenant commander. "Commander Elni Deron, future first officer." He smiled, sensing the human's discomfort. "This is Thel Kres'sh, the security officer."

"Mark Nguyen—er, Lieutenant Commander Mark Nguyen, science officer. This is Ensign Alexandria Thatcher. Alex!"

Alex was beginning the shuttle's launch sequence, apparently oblivious to the presence of any other beings in the shuttle. Mark elbowed her, causing her to glare at him. "What?"

"I'm sure flying the shuttle takes concentration, but could you please talk to us while you're doing it?"

"Oh..sorry." Alex's forehead crinkled in confusion. The commander was already talking to Mark, and the Andorian didn't look like he wanted to talk at all. Why did she need to say anything? "Um, hi."

Commander Deron extended his hand to her. She looked at it for a few seconds, not sure whether to take it or not. Elni sensed her nervousness and uncertainty and withdrew his unshaken hand. "Don't worry, I don't bite," he said, trying to alleviate some of her doubt. When the joke had little effect, he looked at the man next to her, who was clearly her friend. Nguyen felt concern for Thatcher, but at the same time was unalarmed by her behavior. This was normal for her, then.

The commander leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. "You're a navigator?"

Ensign Thatcher kept her gaze firmly on the viewport. "Yes, sir."

"You enjoy it, don't you?" That she did was obvious to the Betazoid; guiding the shuttle stimulated unmistakable joy in her mind.

"Yes, sir. As a child I always used to pretend that I was pilot of a starship."

Mark snorted. "She's got the maps for most of charted space memorized. She was able to skip an entire year at the Academy because she spent most of her childhood reading about navigational systems and stellar cartography. In my opinion, sir, the Atlas lucky to have her."

The lieutenant commander's statement was objective, but it still caused Alexandria to blush.

Mark changed the subject. "Do you know the names of the other senior officers, sir?" he asked Deron.

"Yes. The Chief Engineer and the captain's sister is Carol Lylan, and the Vulcan Chief Medical Officer is called T'lea."

"A Vulcan, huh?" Mark bit his lip. He'd met a few Vulcans in the course of his career. He'd never known any of them personally, but then he hadn't wanted to. They were arrogant, hypercritical, and they looked down on humans and treated them as inferior beings.

Mark's disdain wasn't evident even to the non-telepaths in the shuttlecraft, but to Elni, it was obvious. He was confident, however, that the human's feelings would not affect his ability to perform his duties; he would never have gotten so far as to become the Science Officer of a starship if it were otherwise.

Suddenly, Spacedock came into view. Along with the other shuttles, theirs flew past the geometric frame that held the USS Atlas and into the ship's shuttlebay.


Captain Sarajul Lylan sat in the shuttle next to the silent Vulcan. She had attempted to start a conversation several times, only to have T'lea answer her questions and then fall silent. Two of said Vulcan's nurses sat behind the pair, clearly not sure what to think about being in a shuttle with two individuals who outranked them by a kilometer.

Sara sighed heavily, and turned to face her CMO once again.

"Are you always like this?" she demanded.

The Vulcan cocked an eyebrow at her. "Like what, sir?"

"You're awfully quiet. Are you always this boring?"

Inwardly, T'lea was surprised. It did not fit her understanding of human behavior for such a question to be deemed acceptable. "Boring," as far as she was aware, was an insult, especially in reference to a person.

"Please clarify, sir. In what way do I fit the description of 'boring'?"

"I've been trying to start a conversation with you for the past five minutes, but all I get are computerized responses. I repeat: are you always this boring?"

Ah. It would seem that the captain found her conversation lacking. "What do you wish to talk about, sir?"

"Anything. Tribbles; warp drive; Regulan bloodworms... I know! Doctor, what do you think about Starfleet's policy about captains staying on board during away missions?"

There went that eyebrow again. "It is not logical for a commanding officer to endanger him or herself unnecessarily. Therefore, unless the situation requires the presence of a high-ranking officer, it is preferable for the captain to remain with the ship."

An odd glint came to the captain's eyes. "But how can a captain expect her crew to go into a dangerous situation if she herself won't?"

"Sir, as regulations are quite clear in this area, the subject is academic."

Now the captain raised her eyebrow. "There's an old saying on Earth—some rules are made to be broken."

USS Atlas, Spacedock, Earth Orbit

"Initiating automatic docking procedure," Ensign Thatcher announced as she relinquished control to the ship's computer. Manual docking was dangerous and not highly recommended.

The shuttle flew effortlessly through the open hangar doors and landed on the deck. Three others had landed only moments before; two more came in after them. When it was clear that no more shuttles would be arriving for a few minutes, a forcefield sealed off the room and the atmosphere was restored.

Alex pushed some button or other, and the shuttlecraft's door opened. Commander Daron stepped out first, followed by Nguyen, Kres'sh, and Thatcher.

They were greeted by a yellow-clad woman with olive skin, short black curls, and an oddly murderous look in her eyes. She extended her hand. "Chief Engineer Carol Lylan. Welcome aboard." Empathic abilities or not, there was something about the woman that resembled a hurricane being confined in a (very) small container.

Each of the shuttle's former passengers greeted her in turn. Alex managed to force herself to accept the offered handshake; Elni greeted her warmly, carefully avoiding anything that might set off the barely suppressed anger he detected. Mark did likewise, though his deduction was based on more mundane evidence. Only Thel's behavior managed to complicate matters.

Lt. Commander Lylan extended her hand toward the Andorian, but the appendage was ignored. Thel glared at it, then glared at its owner. Carol glared back. "Do you have a problem, Lieutenant?"

"You look...familiar," Kres'sh said.

"Fancy that," she retorted, crossing her arms over her torso. "Do you lot know where your quarters are, or do I have to show you myself?"

"We know where they are, thank you," the Second Officer said graciously.

"Well, that was pleasant," Mark muttered as they walked away.

"She is an engineer. Her ship is not functioning at optimal levels. Her irritability is understandable."

"I just hope she's not too much like her older sister."

Unnamed Shuttlecraft, Earth Orbit

Said older sister was giving her shuttle's controls over to the Atlas' computer just as those words were being spoken. There were a few seconds' delay as the bay was made vacant; then the shuttle landed soundlessly on the deck and its occupants stepped out into the starship for the first time.

"Carol!" Sara recognized her sister (and now subordinate), who was emerging from wherever she had been when the bay was a part of the vacuum of space, from across the deck.

"Captain," the engineer returned solemnly.

Sara's smile faded. "I know that look. How bad is it?"

The younger woman placed her hands on her hips. "Not only are the transporters not working, but half the replicators are offline as well. That's not to mention the dozen of other things that have gone wrong in the past couple of days. I don't know what Starfleet expects you to do with this thing—fly it, or sell it for scrap."

Ignoring T'lea's raised eyebrow, Captain Lylan replied, "I'm fully confident in your abilities, Commander. Besides-" she slapped her sister on the shoulder' "what's life without a little challenge?"

Carol returned the gesture. "Well, I'll see you around, Sara—that is, if this bucket of bolts doesn't blow us to the ends of the universe first." Without further discussion, she turned and marched off toward engineering.

When Lylan turned back to T'lea, she discovered that the Vulcan's left eyebrow had apparently disappeared, and was presumably hidden somewhere under her slightly wavy hair. "She is your sister?" The captain nodded in reply.

"She is very... vocal."

"Oh, that's just how she is. She didn't really mean most of what she said; it's just her way of blowing off steam."

"Ah."

"Now, I'm sure you're eager to inspect your sick bay, so I'll leave you to that. Hopefully next time we meet it'll be over a friendly game of chess and not involve me missing any body parts." The she walked away down the corridor, leaving the bemused Vulcan to ponder the illogic of humans and dread the day she ever fully understood it.


The newly promoted Captain Sarajul Lylan had awoken herself at 0600 hours in order to make it onto the bridge ahead of anyone else.

She sat in her chair, gazing at the viewscreen, which showed the familiar constellations but without any interference from light pollution, atmosphere, or weather. It was, without exception, the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

She closed her eyes, feeling the faint humming of the ship's engines, which were just being started up in preparation for today's departure. She ran her hand over the arm of her chair, feeling each of the controls. Her chair. Her ship. It felt like she had been waiting for this her entire life without knowing it.

The turbolift doors hissed open, and Lylan heard one pair of feet come to join her. Without opening her eyes to see who it was, she said, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," a calm voice replied.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if one day we could move through space on our own, without a starship to hold us together; to actually be in space."

Her statement was met with silence, as if her neighbor did not know what to say. She opened her eyes, and saw a tall, pale man standing next to her, gazing at the viewscreen. She stood up next to him, her eyes taking note of the collar of his uniform.

"Good morning, Commander."

"Captain."

"I'm glad you could make it, Mr. Daron," she said jovialy.

Elni took her outstretched hand. "Pleased to meet you again, Captain Lylan."

He scrutinized her face. "If I may ask, sir, just how long have you been up here? Alpha shift doesn't start until 0800 hours." It was barely 0745 now.

"Oh, I know. I just wanted a chance to sit on the bridge before it was crowded with people. Call it a little quirk of mine."

"I see. Am I interrupting you, then?"

"Oh, no, I was almost done anyway. Besides, I've hardly met any of my crew yet. Far be it from me to turn down an opportunity to do so now." Her smile was infectious; Daron couldn't help returning it.

Daron leaned against the railing next to the captain's chair. "Well, if that's the case, far be it from me to deny you that opportunity. Tell me about Earth. What's it like?"

The next fifteen minutes passed swiftly as Captain and First Officer began sharing stories about their home planets. Both officers became increasingly certain that they would get along well together.

When the turbolift doors hissed open and the Science Officer and Navigator stepped on deck, they saw their two commanding officers side by side facing the main viewscreen. The captain stood and turned to face them. "Lieutenant Commander Nguyen; Ensign Thatcher. Good morning." She adjusted her shirt, not so much out of nervousness as out of a desire to be respectable toward her crew. This was the first day of her first command; nothing could go wrong.

"Good morning, sir," Nguyen said, moving towards the science station to the back and right of the captain's chair.

"Good morning," Thatcher muttered, looking suddenly unsure of herself. As the petite ensign walked to and took her seat at the conn, Lylan and Daron exchanged a glance. The Betazoid had, of course, picked up on the young woman's sudden burst of panic, but had no more idea of the cause than his human captain.

At that moment, the turbolift opened again, depositing a handful more officers on the bridge...

...including a tall Andorian male who froze the minute he laid eyes on his captain.

Understandably, Thel Kres'sh was quite stunned. Before him, very clearly captain of this ship, was the woman who had asserted her authority over him in the bar the previous night. The pair stood with their eyes locked for a few seconds, before the captain finally smiled at Thel.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Kres'sh," she said amicably. The Andorian managed to incline his head in acknowledgment before heading over to tactical.

The remainder of the bridge crew arrived by 0800, and after giving a brief welcome speech—very brief, since Lylan did not want to appear overly formal, which she certainly was not—the captain gave the order and the ship was underway out of the Solar system and into the galaxy beyond.

"Engage."