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The delivery girl marks off a few more lines on her checklist and hands the clipboard to the captain for his signature. “Alright, remember, this is still a prototype, so there’s bound to be some kinks, but it’s a Type 9, which means that even as a Class-2 shuttle it can potentially reach up to warp 4. And you can turn this puppy on a dime. We used the newest tritanium alloy for the hull and it’s equipped with nadion particle phasers with the potential to retro-fit up to eight photon torpedoes. You can fit four people comfortably, up to six if you squeeze, and the two nacelles are guaranteed to last for a minimum of 2000 light-years. The onboard computer is programmed with everyone’s favorite system voice and calibrated for 0.3 seconds minimum response time. Oh, and you get 12 of them for the Enterprise.” She grins at the men in front of her, knowing she’s made their day. The captain signs and hands the clipboard back to her. The chief engineer, Scotty, clears his throat, wipes the saliva off the corner of his mouth and leans over to ‘James T. Kirk’. “Captain, I think I am in love.”