Inside Starbase 901's spacedock, the starship Sentinel came to rest against its assigned docking port on the central core. The umbilicals extended, and the access tubes locked onto the Sentinel's docking hatches. Pressure was equalized, and finally, the thick double doors retracted into their recesses with a dull thunk.
A crisp new Starfleet uniform stood there on the threshold, and inside the uniform was a golden-haired young woman, eyes wide with wonder and a smile on her lips. Duffel bag slung carelessly over her shoulder, she took a deep breath and stepped off the ship.
She was eager to get to her assignment, so there'd be no time to see the sights of this frontier outpost. The corridors of the docking sector were crowded, but she still managed to make good time. In the Main Rotunda, she followed the electronic signs that pointed to her ship, the Sovereign-class USS Hornet. The docking tunnels that led over to it were twenty-seven levels down, so she looked around for a turboshaft. Spotting a likely candidate, she headed off once again.
While she rode the turbolift, her thoughts strayed again to her beloved spacecraft, her very own YF-6100 Banshee-class fighter. She still could scarcely believe her luck -- fresh out of the Academy and already assigned to fly Starfleet's top-of-the-line space fighter as a member of the elite Banshee Squadron, attached to a top-of-the-line starship whose mission it was to push back the frontiers of knowledge. She knew that as she made her own way towards the Hornet, her Banshee was being transferred from the Sentinel by the starbase's crews.
Arriving at the Hornet's level, she made her way to that level's Rotunda, then followed the signs again towards the docking tunnels. Part-way there, she passed through a spacious lounge area. The room was comfortably furnished with chairs, sofas and tables, and was populated by dozens of Starfleet officers and civilians. What caught her attention though were the huge bay windows dominating one entire wall.
The broad transparent panels looked out into the cavernous spacedock facility. Work bees zipped in between the starships that were docked there, but it was the ship in the foreground that held her mesmerized. It was the Hornet.
Her feet altered their course seemingly of their own accord, and she found herself standing right up against the transparent aluminum. The duffel bag slipped off her shoulder and drooped to the floor. She just stood for a little while and stared, convinced she'd never seen anything quite so beautiful. Except maybe her Banshee, of course. "Wow...," was all she could find to say.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice close behind her. "You bet your gold pip, 'wow'."
Spinning about, she came face-to-face with another Starfleet uniform. This one wasn't quite as crisp as her own -- it looked decidedly more experienced in fact, as did the woman wearing it. The woman eyed her critically, then offered her hand and said, "Commander Lee Carter."
She took the proffered hand and shook it firmly, introducing herself in turn. "I'm Ensign Alexandra Dawson."
"I know. I've read your dossier. I'll be your commanding officer on board the Hornet."
"Ah! Of course! I recognize your name now. You're the Banshee Wing Commander." Alex released Carter's hand and picked up her duffel again. "I'm looking forward to serving with you," she beamed.
Carter smiled in spite of herself. This new recruit's smile was infectious. "You know, Dawson.... If your flying skills are on the same par as your enthusiasm, heaven help the bad guys!"
"Count on it, ma'am," replied Alex, the very personification of confidence.
"Well, we'll see...," said Carter, trying to sound somewhat skeptical -- couldn't let this kid get too big a head.... She turned away from the bay windows. "Let's head over to the Hornet. She'll be leaving as soon as you and your plane are aboard."
Alex slung the duffel over her shoulder again and prepared to follow her new boss, when suddenly she yelped in surprise and jumped three feet into the air. Landing, she spun about, dropped the duffel and fell into a fighting stance. "Who did that?!?" she shouted angrily.
But there was no one there.
Some of the other people nearest to her had postponed their conversations and were casting sidelong glances in her direction. It was clear from their expressions they thought she had a screw loose or something. Carter walked back over to her side. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"I.... Something.... Uh, that is...," stammered Alex. In the face of a nonexistent adversary, she was suddenly at a loss. Straightening up from her crouch, she relaxed her fists and said frankly, "Someone pinched my butt!" She rubbed her tushy and winced.
"Ahh," said Carter. She looked around the immediate vicinity and spotted a large green ashtray on a small nearby end table, and rolled her eyes. The pieces were falling into place.
"It's true!" cried Alex, mistaking Carter's reaction for disbelief.
"I believe you, Dawson," explained Carter. "This sort of this has happened before. Come on. Let's get out of here before we all get it in the end...."