Casting Off
Posted on Tue Aug 18th, 2026 @ 8:23pm by Lieutenant Commander Maximo (Max) Vero & Captain Marc Steyn & Lieutenant Vireya Talvaren & Lieutenant Syvar MD & Lieutenant Reruk & Lieutenant JG Charlie Johnson & Lieutenant JG Ikan Seidel & Ensign Kristian Hale
3,004 words; about a 15 minute read
Mission:
Season 1 Episode 2: The Garden at the Edge of Night
Location: USS Genesis - Main Bridge
Timeline: MD1
ON
Lieutenant Johnson
Lieutenant Johnson had woken early and got to engineering in plenty of time. She found the rest of the engineering team had the same idea, as the engine room was a buzz of activity when she arrived.
"How's it looking Peters?" she asked as she cast a glance over the work that was going on in preparation for launch.
Ensign Peters was stressed but keeping it together... Just. "We should be ok Lieutenant."
"Everything set as the manual states." She asked
Peter's sighed and replied, "As per your instructions. Lieutenant." And then added under his breath, "I just hope we don't blow ourselves to pieces."
Her head snapped up. "I'm sorry, Ensign, I didn't quite catch that." She fixed him with a steady look.
"He returned her gaze, looking neutral. "Nothing, Lieutenant."
She paused for a moment. "Prepare for start-up."
Lieutenant Reruk
The hum of the environmental systems in Lieutenant Reruk’s quarters was two decibels higher than standard, a minor discrepancy he logged before even opening his eyes. While morning was an arbitrary construct aboard a starship, he adhered strictly to the schedule that he so carefully planned out for himself when first arriving aboard the Genesis. He was nothing if not persistent in keeping things orderly.
Quickly rising from bed, he stood before his uniform before quickly putting the uniform of a Starfleet Science Officer on. He stood there a moment ensuring that every seam was crisp, and that the provisional pips were fastened with mathematical precision upon the collar. The Captain had jokingly placed an extra two pips there toward the end of the party, but they were firmly removed now. There was no hesitation from the Science Officer, no lingering in front of the mirror as reflection invited sentiment, and sentiment was a luxury his conscription did not allow for.
Stepping into the corridor, Reruk passed several crewmembers exchanging quiet greetings to him. He offered no nod, no acknowledgment, nothing as he continued forward in silence. To invite casual conversation was to invite scrutiny, and scrutiny was a risk he calculated daily. His mind remained fixed on the tasks ahead: the long-range sensor calibration and the ethical boundaries he was bound to enforce.
When the turbolift doors parted, he stepped inside and smoothed the front of his tunic. The USS Genesis was preparing for departure, a vessel stocked with officers who viewed the cosmos through idealistic ambition. Reruk viewed it as an equation requiring strict discipline. As the lift accelerated toward the Bridge, he prepared himself to face the crew who tolerated his presence only out of necessity.
Doctor Syvar
Syvar was up bright and early, taking the time to make himself presentable. He tried to tame his wild and scruffy looking hair but eventually gave up. He hated using chemical substances to keep it in place so he was forced to just leave it as it ended up being after a thorough brush through. He adjusted his collar and tugged down the tunic along his lean body.
As he didn't want to miss his first actual cast off he decided to head to the bridge rather than sickbay. Carrying a single sandwich and a cup of tea, smiling brightly at the passing crew, he made his way up to the bridge.
The moment was interrupted by the sharp chirp of the shipwide intercom. A heartbeat later, Marc's unmistakable South African baritone echoed throughout Genesis, carrying across every deck and into every compartment.
"Senior officers, report to the bridge. All hands, prepare for departure."
The words were simple, but their meaning was anything but.
After months of preparation, arguments, sleepless nights and more paperwork than Marc cared to remember, the moment had finally arrived.
Genesis was leaving Earth.
Captain Steyn and Lieutenant Talvaren
The bridge was already alive with activity.
Junior officers occupied most of the stations, their hands moving across illuminated consoles as the final pre-departure checks continued. Displays flickered with streams of telemetry, status indicators shifted steadily from amber to green, and the low, constant hum of Genesis seemed to have taken on a different quality now that the ship was preparing to leave Earth.
A handful of the senior staff had yet to arrive, but Marc knew they would be present shortly. For the moment, the bridge belonged to the officers who had been trusted to get the ship through those final minutes.
Marc stepped onto the command platform, allowing himself a brief glance across the bridge before his attention settled on Operations.
"Ops, signal Dockyard that we'll be casting off shortly. Have them make the final call for any civilians or remaining personnel who haven't yet boarded. I want everyone accounted for before we disengage."
"Aye, sir," came the crisp response from the Betazoid lieutenant.
Marc turned towards the helm, where Ensign Hale sat already working through his consoles prompts. The young man's Klingon heritage was unmistakable, even beneath the regulation Starfleet uniform.
"Ensign Hale."
The ensign immediately looked up.
"Complete final checks on all propulsion systems. Impulse, thrusters and warp systems. I want confirmation that everything is ready before we leave the dock."
"Aye, sir."
Marc nodded and let his gaze sweep across the bridge once more.
The final minutes were ticking away.
After all the preparation, Genesis was finally about to become what she had been built to be.
Vireya was already at Tactical by the time the bridge began to fill.
The station had become familiar beneath her hands over the past few weeks, but this morning it felt different. Until now, every diagnostic had been theoretical in some small way. Tests performed while Genesis sat safely inside Spacedock, simulations fed into systems that had never yet been required to protect anyone beyond their own hull.
Today there would be people behind those readings.
She worked steadily through the final security checks. Internal sensors were fully active, armouries and weapons lockers secured, brig systems standing by and emergency teams assigned across the ship. The last personnel reports were feeding through as stragglers came aboard, each arrival quietly disappearing from her outstanding list. Vireya watched the number shrink without rushing it. Nobody was getting left behind because someone wanted a dramatic departure.
Only then did she turn her attention outward.
The tactical display painted Earth Spacedock and the surrounding traffic in clean lines and moving contacts. Phaser arrays reported ready but safed, firing interlocks firmly engaged while they remained within the dockyard. Torpedo systems sat equally quiet, loaded and available without pretending that readiness meant eagerness. She ran through targeting sensors, defensive systems and shield generators once more, watching the indicators settle into green.
Her fingertips rested briefly against the edge of the console.
For weeks, Genesis had been pieces. Compartments, specifications, personnel files, arguments over systems and endless lists of things that still needed doing. Even yesterday she had felt more like a project than a starship.
Now the deck hummed beneath Vireya’s boots and Earth waited beyond the viewscreen.
She drew a slow breath and looked over her board one final time.
Security ready. Tactical ready.
Whatever came next would no longer be a simulation.
Commander Vero
Max wasn't sure which was worse. Not being able to sleep or the dreams he was having on the sleep medication the counselor had insisted he take to sleep. They were so vivid. He had dressed, downed his expresso and opted for wholemeal toast instead of his usual pastry having seen the doctors aghast expression during their meeting the other day.
In the turbolift he considered, should he tell the counselor? I mean it had to be pretty obvious right? He could deduce these dreams. His papa in concert and joining him afterwards, Max younger. Papa telling him he could do anything he wanted too because he believed in him. He just missed his papa. The support right? His mother in a gown he had never seen smiling. But silent. There was so much he didn't know about the other half of his biology. His brain was just touching on that. It had to be.
An the under water kingdom. That had to be connected to Charlotte. Her obsession with history, legends. He was dreaming of Poseidon's undersea castle. But what was he searching for down there? He shrugged perhaps he would dream it again and get further in. The alarm had woken him up. Yes he didn't need to make yet another counselor appointment. It was pretty self explanatory.
He pushed it all away as the turbo lift doors opened and plastered on a smile. "Morning, morning, " he greeted everyone and then made a huge show of greeting Reruk. He knew he hadn't taken anything on board yet so would annoy the man no end to help him get there and if everyone saw him do it, more people would copy and do the same - greet the second officer.
Main Bridge
"Captain," Max nodded as he took his seat beside him. "Historic day," he smiled pulling up Engineering's reports. He was still concerned about this 'Just follow the manual to a tee.' thing but everything seemed to look in order from what he now knew of propulsion in this time. Yet he couldn't shake a feeling.
"Commander," Marc greeted as he approached, lowering himself into the central command chair.
The motion felt strangely unfamiliar.
For years, his natural place had been at the science station, surrounded by data and sensor readings, interpreting information faster than most people could process it and feeding his conclusions to whoever happened to be sitting in the chair. Now, for the first time, he was the one in that chair.
It was going to take some getting used to.
He had assumed command of the Roosevelt on numerous occasions, but those had always been temporary arrangements—little more than "minding the store," as he liked to call it. He had known the command would eventually be handed back to its rightful captain.
This was different.
This was Genesis.
His ship. His crew. His responsibility.
Marc settled back into the chair, allowing himself only a moment to absorb the significance before slipping naturally into command.
"Let's have a report from all stations, shall we, Commander?"
"Si Captain," Max said looking at his display.
"Lieutenant Reruk, science?" he asked.
"Sensors are calibrated and operating within optimal parameters," Reruk replied smoothly, "Primary arrays report clear spatial coordinates for our planned trajectory."
"Lieutenant Talvaren, Security/Tactical?"
Vi glanced over the last of the indicators before turning slightly towards the command level.
“Security reports all personnel accounted for, Commander. Internal sensors are active, armouries and restricted areas are secured, and emergency response teams are standing by.”
Her attention shifted back to Tactical.
“Phaser arrays are fully operational. Torpedo systems are loaded and secure, targeting sensors are online, and shield generators are showing ready across the board.”
A small smile touched her mouth as the final green indicator settled into place.
“Security and Tactical are ready for departure.”
"Doctor Syvar," he linked into sickbay. "Is Sickbay a go?"
Syvar grinned as he stepped up to the XOs chair and briefly touched the commanders arm. "I'm right here commander," he said, "and yes sickbay is a go. If it wasn't I wouldn't be up here."
“Excellent. Grazia doctor,” Max replied.
He linked into Engineering, "Lieutenant Johnson, are those engineers ready to launch?"
Charlie's voice came back over the comm "Aye Captain. The board shows green down here. All on the numbers."
"Flight, Ensign Hale?"
The young hybrid Klingon/Human manipulated his controls with ease. He was a recent graduate of the academy but had show more than a passing aptitude for the flight control specialisation. With a calm and deceptively deep baritone voice her replied to the Commander.
"Propulsion systems are online and operating within normal parameters. Impulse engines are standing by, and the warp drive is available up to Warp six for standard cruising speed. Warp nine point six maximum warp and twelve hours at nine point nine sir.”
Now the more seasoned Lieutenant Ikan Seidel spoke up from Operations, his hands a blur over the controls as he managed the ships system and allocations.
"All primary systems online and within normal parameters. Power distribution is stable, life support and environmental controls are fully operational, and internal communications are standing by. Cargo restraints are secure, crew complement is confirmed, and all departments report ready for launch, sir."
"Communications, do we have permission to depart?" Max asked.
Vi suppressed the faintest sigh as the communications indicator blinked on her board alongside everything else Tactical was already asking her to watch. She opened the channel with a quick touch. “Spacedock Control, this is USS Genesis. Requesting final clearance for departure.” The response came back a moment later, accompanied by the release authorisation on her display, and she closed the channel before looking towards the command level. “Clearance confirmed, Commander. Departure lane is ours.” Her eyes dropped back to the tactical board as she murmured just quietly enough for herself, “And somewhere in my future, Operations is doing communications.”
Standing rigidly at the Science console, Reruk observed the Bridge's performative optimism with cold detachment. To the crew, departure was a grand commencement; to Reruk, it was merely an equation yielding expected parameters.
Marc watched as reports and confirmations flowed rapidly between the stations, each response triggering another request, another status update, another confirmation. The anticipation on the bridge was almost tangible. It felt like electricity running through the room, passing from one officer to the next and building with every passing second until it seemed the entire bridge was holding its breath, waiting for him to give the word.
Marc had thought about this moment more than once.
Most captains simply used the traditional command: Engage. Others had developed something more personal over the years. Captain Pike had famously favoured "Hit it," while Picard's "Make it so" had become almost legendary in its own right. Marc had considered several alternatives during the long months of preparation, but none of them felt particularly natural coming from him.
There was something to be said for tradition.
"Lieutenant Talvaren, signal Utopia Planitia to retract the docking arms."
Vi’s hands were already moving across the tactical console before Marc had finished speaking. She opened the dockyard channel, the request crisp and uncomplicated. “Utopia Planitia Control, Genesis requesting docking arm retraction and final release.” A moment later the authorisation returned, followed by the heavy mechanical confirmation as the restraints began to disengage from the hull. Vi watched each indicator shift cleanly from locked to clear before turning her attention back towards command. “Docking arms retracting, Captain. All moorings showing release in sequence.”
Marc's attention shifted towards the helm.
"Ensign Hale, once the arms are fully retracted, ease us clear of the dock on thrusters. Keep it slow and steady. We have no reason to hurry our first steps."
"Aye, sir," came the immediate reply.
Marc settled back into the command chair, feeling the faintest vibration beneath his feet as the docking systems began to disengage.
For a moment, he simply watched.
After everything—Wolf 359, the long recovery, the preparation, the arguments, the endless work—Genesis was finally about to leave the Sol System.
And for the first time, the responsibility of what came next felt entirely real.
The first indication that Genesis was moving was so subtle that Marc almost missed it.
There was no dramatic lurch, no sudden acceleration. Instead, the faint vibration beneath his boots changed character as the last of the docking clamps disengaged. Somewhere deep within the ship, systems shifted from docked operations to flight status, the quiet mechanical sounds of thousands of components working together travelling through the deck beneath him.
Marc watched the main viewscreen as the enormous structures of Utopia Planitia began to drift slowly away.
"Thrusters online," Hale called.
The first movement was almost imperceptible.
Then Genesis began to slide forwards from the docking sleeve.
Marc found himself leaning forward slightly despite himself, watching as the ship's perspective changed. The vast framework of the station and the construction facilities began to recede, revealing more of Mars beyond them. The red planet hung against the blackness of space, immense and beautiful, while the lights of Utopia Planitia glittered across its surface and around the orbital facilities.
For months, Genesis had been something unfinished. A collection of decks, systems and components surrounded by scaffolding and engineers. He had walked through her corridors while they were still being fitted, watched consoles come online one at a time and stood on a bridge that had once been nothing more than an empty shell.
Now she was moving.
His eyes travelled across the bridge, taking in the officers at their stations. Nobody spoke unnecessarily. Even those who had done this a hundred times before seemed to understand the significance of the moment.
"Clear of the dock," Hale reported.
Marc nodded slowly.
"Bring us to three two three mark four two five and engage at full impulse Ensign."
The helm responded, and the stars began to shift across the viewscreen as Genesis gracefully turned away from the station. The immense silhouette of the dock slid out of view, replaced by open space and the endless darkness beyond.
Marc allowed himself a small smile.
Earth was already behind them.
Not just physically, but in almost every sense that mattered. Marc simply sat there and allowed himself to feel the moment. The pride. The apprehension. The weight.
And beneath all of it, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.
Hope.
"She's yours now, Captain, we are free and clear to navigate" came a quiet voice from operations.
Marc looked towards the main viewer, where Genesis was hanging against the stars with Mars slowly falling behind her.
He smiled.
"No Lieutenant," he quietly corrected. "She's ours. Set course for our first destination Conn. Warp six. Engage".
END
RSS Feed