Flynn, restless, relieved Ann at the helm, more for his own sake than to let her rest. He didn’t want her to go on about her books or the latest debauchery she wanted to get into at their next port. This was a night where Flynn wanted quiet.
Calypso, with her total crew of five, was far more quiet than Atlas had been. The heavy cruiser had hundreds of enlisted in addition to the four dozen officers, and required half a dozen people on the bridge to oversee operations, to say nothing of the CIC. Even the night watch buzzed with conversation to pass the time.
But here, alone in Calypso’s cockpit, he enjoyed the quiet. It would be another three hours before they reached the edge of the system, three hours of quiet where he could stare into the black.
He put a hand to the transparent material that allowed him to look at the stars; it was cool from facing away from the star, but not cold. He traced a pattern on the window with his finger, remembering someone who had done the same. He wished for companionship, but she was light years away and years in the past.
. He thumbed the ring on his third finger, spinning it slowly around.