Does it ever stop?!
The desk was littered with transparent leaflets, containing various records of the ship itself, supplies, requests, personnel files. Even with paper records being next to dead and gone, they still found their way onto the desks of Fleet officers.
The man behind the desk had taken a break, leaning back in his chair, which was swiveled to the large veiwport. With his hands clasped behind his head, dark, intelligent eyes watched the stars outside, little specs of light, possibly half a universe away. He scanned them, trying to pinpoint Sol... Old Earth.
His thoughts were suddenly cut short, or so he'd thought. The friendly chime sounded through his room twice, alerting him that someone was at outside his hatch. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts before sitting up in his chair. He'd stretched and groaned, several joints cracking or popping with the movement.
"Pardon my intrusion, Captain, but may I come in for a moment?" called a voice through the comm.
He cleared his throat, swivveling back to his desk. He'd started cleaning the transparent papers up, stacking them neatly. He tapped the console on his desk, nodding a bit. "Aye, you may enter," came his reply after a delayed minute, tapping the console again. The hatched made a light I>thunk, unlocking itself.
The handle turned down and the hatch slowly turned inwards, into the quarters. On the other side stood a perplexed-looking ensign, a junior officer, the captain had noted to himself after glancing up. He nodded casually, setting the stack aside and clasping his hands before him on the desk.
"At ease. How can I help you, ensign?" he asked, offering a smile to calm the lad.
"Well, sir. The long-range communications dish picked up a transmission from a transport shuttle, heading this way, just a few moments ago. It's asking for permission to dock, sir. We ran a sc--"
"And probably came up with the serial number to a Fleet shuttle, no?" he interrupted. He smiled again, pushing himself to his feet. He stepped out from behind his desk, casting another look outside the veiwport. "Did you reply to the hail, ensign?"
A shake of the head. "Negative, sir. And, yes. It was a Fleet shuttle." He paused, looking even more confused. "And it gave our docking protocol passcodes, sir. But, it still requested permission..."
The captain nodded at that, grinning at the ensign. He made his way out of his quarters, motioning for the younger man to follow him to the bridge.
"What's the ETA of the shuttle, ensign?" he inquired, thoughtfully. The bridge lift lowered as they approached, the captain stepping on first.
"About two hours, sir."
The lift jolted, and then moved upwards. The captain had turned his back to the ensign, clasping his hands behind his back, stepping off the lift as soon as it had risen to the bridge level. He moved to the communications console, picking up an earpiece after giving a nod to the comm tech.
"Approaching shuttle, this is Captain Adrian Othello of the Inter-Galaxy Federation Fleet battlecruiser, Seattle," he spoke, confidently, turning to watch the large panoramic veiwport of the Bridge. "We have received your request for docking and confirmed your passcodes. You are acknowledged for landing."
Silence followed. All eyes on the bridge turned away from their stations, staring at the captain. He still stood there, on the communications level, hands clasped behind his back, his mouth turned up into a welcoming smile. The silence only lasted for half a minute, maybe more.
"Thank you for the acknowledgement, Captain. Estimated docking time is one hour, fifty-four minutes. Docking procedures shall begin in one hour, forty-four minutes," came the reply.
The captain grinned even more.
"... Welcome home, Ashton."