Genesis p. 7
First step: clear the moorings.  Without the mooring cleared, your ship will go nowhere.  “Clear all moorings, Broadaway,” said Mansel.  He waited as Broadaway tapped a few buttons on his console, as if he were still trying to get used to the new sensation of piloting the latest starship the UNSF had to offer. 

“Moorings cleared, sir.”

“The go-ahead, Ensign Hardy?”

“We have now received the go-ahead from the Space Control.”

“Maneuvering thrusters, Mr. Broadway.”

The Explorer, guided by Lieutenant Broadaway, gently glided out of her docking bay, and towards the stars.  Slowly, they watched the cleared moorings go by, all of them eager to get into space, Mansel included.

After a few seconds, Broadaway announced, “We are clear of the docking bay, captain.  Awaiting your next orders.”

Mansel had a whole list of items that the ship had to go through.  He pulled the infopad out of his pocket and quickly scrolled down them.  The first, sensible, thing to do would be to check the impulse engines.

“Let’s check the impulse engines first, Broadaway,” he said.  “Accelerate gradually until we reach maximum speeds.”

“Rate of acceleration, sir?” Broadaway asked.

Mansel was befuddled.  He didn’t know about the rate of acceleration.  He decided to take the easy way out.  “Start out at 125,000 knots, and accelerate at…your discretion.”

Broadaway gave a small sigh. “Aye, sir.”

Mansel caught Vaughn grinning at him from his own seat beside Mansel, who was still standing.  “What?”

“You took the easy way out.”  Mansel ignored him.

After a few minutes of acceleration that had long since taken them out of the Milky Way Galaxy, they hit the threshold of their impulse speed—773,000 knots.

“Ease back down to 250,000 knots,” said Mansel.  That brought them out nearing the twin planets Nanya and Venya. 

“Since we’re here,” said Commander Vaughn, who had also been given a list of tests, me might was well do some sensor scans.”

Mansel nodded.  “Sounds good to me.  Brodaway, head for Venya.  Orbit at 125,000 knots.”

When Broadaway had expertly put the Explorer into an orbit around the smaller of the two planets, Mansel turned to his Science officer, Talaj.  “Lieutenant Talaj, scan the surface of the planet.  Give me a report of the information.”  He looked over at Vaughn, who nodded his assurance to Mansel.  Mansel thought he was doing pretty well himself.  Talaj worked at her station to scan the planet.  Soon, a list of information began to scroll on her screen.  She began to report it to Mansel.

“UNSF planet, capable of sustaining human life.  Rich in neutronium, which is where the UNSF gets most of its fuel.  It’s currently in its winter season, since Nanya is blocking it from the sun.”

“That’s enough,” said Mansel.  “The scanners are working well.”

“Orders?” asked Broadaway.

“Hold on a second while I think,” said Mansel, scrolling on his infopad.  He stepped over to Broadaway’s console and looked down at it.  “Give me a layout of the surrounding area.”

Broadaway pulled up an extensive detailed map of the surrounding galaxy.  “There,” said Mansel, pointing to a spot on the map, “head for that nebula.  330,000 knots.”

“330,000 knots, aye,” said Broadaway, beginning, to perform his new task.

“Nebula?” Vaughn asked as Mansel returned to his post behind the captain’s chair.  “What’s in a nebula?”

“One of the Explorer’s probes is about to be in that nebula,” said Mansel, looking down at Vaughn.

Vaughn’s face lit up in recognition.  “As good a place as any to test a probe.”  Mansel merely nodded.  He was starting to feel more comfortable about being the captain.  No one had yet argued or debated his every little move, except for Broadaway, who seemed to need specific directions to do anything assigned to him.  Mansel could overlook that for the time being, though.  Hopefully with a little bit of experience, Broadaway would be able to make decisions without asking for specific information.

The Explorer came out of their impulse ride and dropped to a dead standstill.  A little more than a thousand kilometers away was the nebula that Mansel had seen on the map.  “Lamb, send a probe into that nebula to get me some information.”

“Set it to look for specific gaseous emissions,” Vaughn added.  At Mansel’s puzzled look, he explained, “You have to set it to look for something specific.”

The ship rocked slightly as Lieutenant Commander Lamb shot out a probe (which was nothing more than a disarmed torpedo with new programmed instructions) into the nebula. After a handful of minutes, the probe started to send back information that printed and scrolled on Talaj’s screen.