[Galaxy] 25 August, 2162, "Mars, it always comes back to Mars."

[Mark Berry]

[Utopia Plantia Shipyard, Mars]

Commodore Markus Kravchik was quietly impressed with what had been achieved
in Martian orbit since the signing of the Federation Consitution. He had
found himself spending more and more time flicking between the William
Pickering Yards orbitting Luna, to Cold Station Whiskey Tango Seven Delta,
which was officially listed as a Jovian research station and the new
construction here above Mars. He hadn't set foot on Earth in over a month,
with his back and forth across the Sol System. He'd had to settle for
looking at the blue marble when he was in Lunar orbit.

His attention had been demanded all across the system. Luckily he'd been
able to delegate a good portion of the work, but some of it was so high
profile that he simply had to either attend the meetings, or openings or
review this or that or the next thing. Next time, he promised himself, he
was going to have words with Commodore Sheppard when he saw her. If he'd
known being bumped up to flag rank was going to land him this much
hand-holding and paper-work, he'd have gone and done something suitable to
be demoted but still in the service. His true ambition was in research and
development, not admistration.

He was standing in Central Ops of what was one of Starfleet's newest space
stations, Utopia Control, looking out the massive windows that lined the
upper walkway of the ops room. Commander Richardson, the station CO, was
currently out on an EV supervising construction of more of the station, but
enough had been built to bring it online a few months ago. Markus had just
this morning put the Commander's name on the promotion list for his work
here. A native of Mars, Richardson had been in the Martian Defence Force
prior to the Federation. Now he was heading up construction over his
homeworld as a proud member of Starfleet. The MDF had been the first force
fully integrated force into the new Federation Starfleet and Markus was
damn glad it had been.

Earth orbit was just too crowded with shipyards and habitats and research
platforms. Mars offered the space the SCE desperately needed. Hence the new
Utopia Plantia shipyards. Right now it was about half the size of the
Pickering Yard, but in another six months it's total number of slips would
equal all of Earth combined. A year down the track it would be double the
rest of the Sol system combined. The five year plan called for Utopia
Plantia to be the premier shipyard of the Federation and Mars was the
perfect place for such a project.

"Commodore, if you look out that way," a young ensign said as she
approached and pointed out into space, consulting a PADD to be sure she was
pointing in the right direction before continuing, "you should be able to
make them out in a few more moments."

"Thank you Ensign," he replied. His thick, heavy Russian accent was wearing
off. A combination of years spent in Starfleet with it's carefully managed
non-accent as well as picking up a few other languages, or the rudiments of
them at least, in the last two years.

As he watched, Markus could make out two specs of light grow as they came
out from Mar's shadow and into the sunlight, their hulls glistening white
with fresh paint jobs as they approached Utopia Plantia. One was the
Icarian Test Vehicle, Project Daedalus' single surviving test bed. The
other was a ship which technically had no name as of yet, for she had yet
to be commissioned. Her hull simply bore the identifier NCC-100 emblazoned
on the front of the sphere that formed the secondary hull as well as
strategically placed on other spots of the ship.

The ITV had never broken Warp 7. Her best speed had been Warp 6.95 and that
was months ago in the past now. She still served in a research capacity but
the ship's functional lifespan was coming to a close soon enough. She was,
like the Enterprise, going to the Fleet Museum for a well deserved rest.

NCC-100 on the other hand was busy working up in preparation for
commissioning and her fateful encounter with the Warp 7 barrier. The entire
project, originally a wartime project, had changed gears with peace and the
coming of the Federation. Months had been spent redesigning the Daedalus
and putting NCC-100 through a series of refits. New nacelle coils from
Vulcan, a superior shield generation from Andoria and improved Phase
Cannons from the Tellarites had turned the ship from Earth's desperate
attempt to catch up with her allies during a war to the Federation's first
true starship and a powerhouse of technical marvels.

The commissioning was scheduled for two days from now. Dignitaries from all
over who could make it would be coming. The Warp 7 run was scheduled for
the same day.

"Ensign," Markus said to the young woman, "arrange for a docking slip near
Control for NCC-100. The ITV can simply loiter in a parking orbit. Then
contact Lieutenant Commander Ivanson and ask him to get his team out to
NCC-100 and begin painting her name on."

"Aye aye Sir," she had before spinning on her heel and marching off to
leave the Commodore to his thoughts.

Commodore Sheppard had to come to the commissioning. He could strangle her
there in front of the whole gallery.

But first he had a Lieutenant Yeagar to contact. Markus had every intent of
taking Daedalus' center seat for her first flight, a perk of being one of
the lead designers and head of the SCE, but he needed a helmsman and the
ITV's test pilot was the perfact man for the job.


Commodore Markus Kravchik
Commander, Starfleet Corp of Engineers
Resident Mad Scientist
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