Homecoming

Captain’s Log

Unnamed Waverider, Utopia Planetia

Stardate 58807.05 0700

Captain's Log… that's going to take a little getting used to. I am presently flying the Vanguard's Waverider to it's underbelly. We're going to have to christen this with a name… perhaps I'll leave it up to the senior staff to agree on a suitable title. This being the first of these crafts I've flown, I'm impressed with the size of the interior while still handling more like the fighters I started my Starfleet career in. A part of me misses those days; just me, the machine and a small wing that was more like family than a squadron…

No, Varissa, this is your family now. The Halifax taught you that. Daiki and Zeev and Tyler and Holly and Bartan… all of them taught you that even a big ship can be a family. The Vanguard isn't even particularly large… a maximum compliment of 80, not including guests or emergency evacuees. That's ten times less people. This is going to be intimate… everyone is going to know everyone within a year, at most. More importantly you are going to be leading them, this is *your* ship, Varissa. Believe in yourself. Believe in the mission. Believe in Starfleet. Gameface on.

The Vanguard is stunning. I’m on my docking approach now, taking it in manually. This is good. Just be yourself and you got this, girl. Deep breath in…

… and out.

The hiss of the hatch connecting the not-so-small shuttlecraft and the Nova-class ship echoed in the almost empty halls of deck 3. The ship wasn’t even a skeleton crew; perhaps a dozen or less souls, Varissa included… mostly engineers ironing out the last wrinkles and a particularly intriguing COO... but it would be good for the newly minted captain to be there for the majority of the crew, should they want to discuss anything prior to taking the big bird out of its nest for its first flight. Captain sh’Orthamu climbed out of the hatch and stood up, stretching a bit before rolling her shoulders with the audible sound of her shoulders popping in their sockets. The Andorian had put a lot of hard miles on her forty year-old frame… not that she was getting old, but the years of damage had taken their toll. Perhaps a trip to the medbay was in order for her long overdue checkups once it was fully staffed… their El-Aurian Liberated Borg CMO she'd read up on before leaving the planet's surface was apparently quite skilled… maybe he could be the one to fix that lingering tear in that left shoulder blade that never healed right…