'Man at the helm...'

To say that the thin-haired nord was ready would be a gross understatement.  Palms firmly set against the helm, Falkvord felt the thrumming power of the twin warp engines beneath his quivering fingertips.  The icy man steeled his nerves, feeling a smile peel open over his crooked teeth and a delighted fire swarm to his eyes.  The Captain's orders were clear, the engines were clear and most importantly the way was clear.  The Grandeur was clear for departure from Starbase.

There was seemingly no instant when acceleration began, only the collective realisation of the Grandeur's maiden voyage as Engineering's love and attention was finally pushed out of orbit by the helmsmans' controlled inputs.  The Ensign's tact at the controls was near-enough textbook, if somewhat over zealous.  Critical manoeuvring was handled quickly rather than carefully, but the results spoke for themselves - no collisions, no failures.  

The pilot gazed longingly at the void that stretched before them, a distant star twinkling on the proverbial horizon amidst the countless others.  Confirming their trajectory, the brave-voiced graduate gave his report.  "Course locked in and underway, Captain.  ETA at Toliman, Stardate 2372.199."