Observant Arrival

Posted on Sun May 10th, 2026 @ 8:03pm by Ensign Melantha Hastings

527 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Flight Of The Valkyries
Location: Shuttle and Shuttlebay 1

The shuttle glided smoothly into the shuttlebay of the USS Tokyo. In the passenger compartment sat several newly assigned crew members. Among them was an ensign with a golden retriever resting its head in her lap.

Melantha Hastings—Melli to the few who still had the right to use the nickname—sat as still as a statue. One hand held the lead attached to her dog’s harness; the other was buried deep in golden fur. Charlee, nearly four years old, watched her mistress with soulful brown eyes and edged closer, sensing the tension beneath her calm exterior.

Melantha was still not entirely comfortable with space travel.

She had been awake since 2393—four years now—and shuttles continued to make her uneasy. Their size, the sense of confinement, and the knowledge that only a few centimetres of hull separated her from the vacuum beyond were enough to set her nerves on edge.
In those four years, she had learned more than she had ever imagined possible. She had studied faster-than-light travel, a society without money, new philosophies and religions, and the existence of dozens upon dozens of alien species. She had completed the counselling degree that war had interrupted, undergone years of therapy and medical assessments, and somehow found her way into Starfleet.

To those around her, she often appeared aloof, even aristocratic. Some mistook her quiet manner for snobbery.

In truth, Melantha was simply observing.

She absorbed everything around her, processing it carefully before speaking. Rather than pretend to understand what she did not, she chose silence and watchfulness. Over the past several years she had spent countless hours reading, studying, listening, and learning. In many ways, that had become her greatest skill.

The shuttle settled onto the deck with a heavy thump. Around her, the other passengers rose in a flurry of conversation and excitement.
Melantha remained seated until most of them had gathered at the hatch. Only then did she stand, sling her duffel bag over one shoulder, and take Charlee’s lead firmly in hand.

Together, they followed the others into the shuttlebay.
As she stepped out of the shuttle, Melantha deliberately kept her gaze fixed ahead, avoiding the shimmering forcefield that held the atmosphere inside and the vacuum beyond.

That forcefield still unsettled her.

She remembered the first time she had entered a shuttlebay at Starbase 1, only eight months after her revival. Two engineering technicians, tethered to the deck and dressed in EVA suits, had cheerfully run into open space to snap-freeze ice cream as some sort of practical joke.

To everyone else, it had been amusing.

To Melantha, it had been terrifying.

The resulting panic attack had left her shaking so badly that her counsellor had needed more than an hour to calm her in a quiet office far from the bay.

Even now, years later, the sight of a forcefield separating life from hard vacuum was enough to send a cold shiver down her spine.

Charlee pressed reassuringly against her leg.

Melantha drew a steady breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped fully aboard the USS Tokyo—and into the next chapter of a life she had never expected to have.

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