Genesis 2 p.2
“Mainly tractors and target practice,” said Mansel.

“Exactly.”

“Broadaway?” Mansel asked.

“Coordinates already input,” his helmsman responded.

“Take us there.”

The Explorer banked off to its new heading at 250,000 knots as the crew prepared for the next test of their brand new starship.
                                                                           ***
The rest of the testing of the Explorer went uneventful.  Every system worked out fine, with the exception of the inertial dampers, which had to be dialed down some to accommodate for some crewmembers that were used to a lighter gravitational pull than most.

Finally, after three hours of running tests on his new starship, Captain Mansel felt tired and was ready to get back to civilization.  He dimly wondered if that was how it was going to be after every mission that he was assigned to.

The Explorer docked wonderfully, just after Captain Hicks’ ship docked.  Mansel and Vaughn both were itching to see how Hicks responded to his surprise attack by Admiral Wilson.  “Twenty bucks says he freaked out,” commented Commander Vaughn.

After they had docked and Mansel was back on Earth, he reported in to Admiral Wilson that his new starship had no defects or bugs—everything had ran smoothly with the exception of Wilson’s surprise attack.

“When did you find out that your ship had no damage?” Wilson asked, perched at his usual spot on the corner of his desk, looking down at Mansel.

“When I asked for a damage report, sir,” Mansel responded.  “After my communications officer told me that no decks had reported casualties or buckling, I asked for a scan of your ship.  My science officer told me that your ship was the same—no damage.  That’s when I decided to hail you.”

Wilson nodded.  “Good job.  That’s about when most captains hail for the second time.”  He paused briefly, taking a second to look at Mansel, who felt uneasy under his watchful eye.  “Are you looking forward to your mission?” he asked, expecting nothing other than the truth.

Mansel considered this.  “In a way, yes sir,” he answered without letting too much disappointment creep into his voice.  “I’m excited to finally be able to command a starship, but seven years of exploring is…”

“Is what, captain?” Admiral Wilson asked.

“Sir, with all do respect, this is a state-of-the-art ship I have.  I think its attention needs to be directed to other places, such as defense and security.”

Wilson nodded.  “Hicks had the same concern.  Most captains who get exploring missions do.  You’re on the right track.  Remember,” he said, leaning in close to Mansel, “exploration is always the UNSF’s first goal.  Defense and offense are second and third.  Always keep that in mind.”

Mansel nodded.  “Yes sir.”
                                                                           ***
That evening, Mansel and his friends all got together for one last evening of being together and having fun.  Instead of going out like they usually did, they decided to crash at Jim Brungess’s place.

“So this is the last evening we’ll all be together?” Brungess asked as he brought them all their requested drinks from the simulator. 

Chris Conrad nodded.  “Yep.  Darryl ships off in his fancy starship tomorrow, Maki has a meeting with the EDF (Earth Defense Force), and I’ve gotta ship out to the Moon Base in two days.”

“And I have to be with on Moon base also,” said Brungess, raising a drink to toast the fact that the two friends would still be together, if only for a few days.

“So what’s it like, Darryl?” Maki Peirce asked from her position on Brungess’s couch sitting next to Brungess.  She had curled up with her head on Jim’s lap with her drink in her hand with a finger pointing in Mansel’s general direction.  There was always something strange about Maki that Mansel never quite got, but he tended to ignore it.

“What’s what like?” he asked as he took a sip of his simulated Root Beer.

“Owning a starship.  Being in space with the lives of hundreds of people in your hands.”

Mansel had never really though about it that way.  True, he did have the lives of nine hundred and eighty-two people in his hands, but he had tried his hardest not to think too much about it.  His instructors had told him while he was at the Academy that the weight of that responsibility would play a major role in his decisions, but he hadn’t really comprehended what the teacher was saying until now.

“It’s a strange feeling,” he confessed, taking another sip of his Root Beer.  “I just hope I make the right decisions.”

“You’d better,” said Maki, shifting her position on Jim’s lap.  “If not, I’ll be the first person to hear about it.”
It was true.  Maki was training to be an Intelligence agent for the EDF.  She always knew the information before anyone else in the group, which had superbly annoyed Conrad, at times.  He hated always being out of the loop.  Being a fighter pilot, though, that was usually the case.