text: The Captain was far away. Sailing between the stars was, when it came down to it, mostly a tedious and repetitive affair. Out here in the uncharted territories, his crew hadn’t encountered anything notable in months. Staring idly out the port at the twinkling stars, it had been a long day of nothing. This reverie was broken by the navigator on watch. “Captain?” she said. “Yes, Jenks?” he replied, taking a breath to centre himself as if resurfacing from a dream. “Long-range scanners are picking up something... strange, Sir.” “Define ‘strange’, Ms. Jenks,” as the edge of the Captain’s mouth started to twitch. “Well, Sir,” she ventured tentatively, “something’s out there.” “‘Something’, Ms. Jenks,” the Captain twitted her now, “Asteroid? Alien civilization? Pirates?” He was smiling now as he warmed up to the idea that something interesting might happen for the first time in too long. “No, Sir. It’s a solid, but porous. Very low mass readings. I can’t get a handle on it.” The Captain turned to the helmsman, a wiry man with creases at the eyes and a completely shaven head. “Care for a detour, Mr. Calverts?” “Aye to that, and about damn time, skipper,” Calverts replied. “Alright,” he suppressed the chortle, turning back to Jenks, “Where are we going?” He could see her across the bridge, concentrating on her displays with a furrowed brow. “33,000km - we should be there in a few minutes. If we pitch 11 points up, negative 25 points yaw that should bring us on a rough heading.” “Lock that in, please Mr Calverts.” “Aye Captain, pitch 11, yaw negative 25 locked.” “Get us close enough for visual range if you can, but try not to scratch the paint.” “Aye-aye Sir” Calverts grinned back. Jenks piped in with, “12 minutes to rendezvous, Sir.” He acknowledged. After so long in the abyss, these few moments felt like a lifetime in anticipation. He started to fidget before slipping out of his chair quietly. “I’m going to grab a coffee from the mess. Back in a tick.” He could have asked the ship’s messenger on duty to get the coffee - but he needed something to do. A few moments later he re-emerged on the bridge cup in hand, and imbibed the strong but delicate brew. “We should be within visual range now, Captain,” Jenks said with a strange catch in her voice. “Thank you. Helm, engage reverse thrusters to zero delta V.” “Reverse thrusters, aye Sir,” Calverts replied, as the inertial dampeners kicked in to cover the sharp deceleration. “Coming to zero delta... now.” “45.8 km away,” Jenks chipped in, and with a smile to Calverts added, “Great job, Joe.” The Captain stood and walked to the forward port, with what he thought was his most purposeful yet calm air. He focused on breathing and tried to slow the thunderous beating inside his chest. He looked into the black for a moment, but saw only his reflection in the glass. He got closer to the armoured port and squinted out, frowning slightly. “I’m not seeing it,” he said after a few heartbeats, before turning his head over his shoulder. There, on the bridge, the entire crew was assembled. They wore stupid grins, and even stupider hats. Party poppers exploded streamers across the equipment. “Gotcha” beamed Jenks, holding a cake in front of her. 'Happy Birthday', it said in a scrawling script. There was nothing to do but laugh - he’d been got. Good. Embarrassed, proud and if he was honest, a little misty about the eyes, he scrubbed his face with his hands and started walking back to the fold with a sheepish look. How did they even know? A few steps later, the distinctive 'ping-pong' of the proximity warning cut their laughter short.