The bane of the uninspired
"With this ship, the Starship Excelsior, We venture into a frontier that will never come to its grand finale. No, for space is ever expanding, with new worlds and life forms to experience, with trials for both us, and any others we find fairing at a high enough capacity to meet us. This is the greater space race. This, is the power of the human race!"-- Charleston Velemore, President of NASA, 2364
The final words in the christening of the flagship in a twelve ship fleet of space vessels were forever immortalized in those few moments, forever to be recalled to future generations, and to any that the fledgling space fairing race may encounter on their long journeys into space. Children dreamed to be able to fly the stars, commanding their own vessels, striving to become better, the greatest of engineers, biologists, chemists, fighters, doctors, and lawyers. Over one thousand two hundred and seventy two years have now passed, however, bringing us all to this wonderful day. It has finally been legalized to construct one's own star ship from scraps without a permit and without governmental supervision. Space policing has become strong enough of an entrenched force that pirates are rarely ever a concern in the main collection of systems that are governed under the rule of a singular court, made of representatives of all the governed races.
Fished from the seas of a Central Gamma Quadrant planet's sea, the Excelsior was rendered unusable and thrown into a junk pile on earth, a planet that was now nothing more than the quadrant's junkyard due to how badly humans had polluted it by the time their space age came about. Even with the help of other races, the damage was irreversible, driving all but the lowest of the low class away from the planet. Hidden in the rubble and amiss the junkyards are gangs that are almost constantly in territory wars, and hideaways for space pirates under pursuit of the law. Every so often, however, something good comes from the small spinning marble. With the new ordinance allowing for public building of space craft, a team of scrappers were sent to Earth, they digging up whatever scrap ship parts they could find to sell on the public market, allowing for a college to buy up the old parts of the legendary ship. Buying it off of the school, a couple of engineers brought the beauty back to life, a twelve person craft now, but brought up to the standards of most fighter and racer ships. The two engineers, along with some of their friends had only a couple of months left in school, each striving for their respective degrees, their final project being interpreting data from a probe that had been sent out to a new planet and setting up a navigable route through treacherous territory. These friends all passed with flying colors, and soon enough, were awarded licenses combined to be able to get a license to fly that far of a distance on such a souped up vehicle. Without a doubt in any of the nine friend's minds, they set off towards this unknown planet, with unknown dangers, having only each other to depend on for the journey ahead.
Unprepared for the forces of the reality of landing such old gear, however, as well as turbulence created from an ion storm, The vessel is sent spiraling down into a thick forest, all of the ship occupants being ejected with parachutes. Even so, they could be just a couple of yards from each other, or miles. And what of their ship? And the planet they are on? The probe scans showed that there was life on this planet, and abundant for that matter. What if that 'life' found and took theirs?
This. Is. Excelsior.