McIntire sat in one of the armchairs in his personal quarters, facing the transparent wall portside of the ship and watched a squadron of Agincourt class cruisers pass by.
He had arrived early, knowing that his guest would not let him wait. That just was not the mans nature. He wanted to enjoy a little time of peace and quiet before the meeting, something all too scarce in the last few weeks.
Before too long he was torn from his thoughts by loud knocking at the wooden door. While usually a practical man he had his quarters furnished in a manner more befitting a traditional manor. It created a calm atmosphere.

He said firmly, keeping his gaze fixed on the space beyond the wall.

McIntire turned towards the man and pointed at the second armchair next to the small table. The hint of a smile appeared on his face when he saw the almost cramped posture ease, marginally.

He fell back into the depths of his armchair and started pouring his guest a drink, without asking of course. He knew he would turn down the suggestion as a matter of principle, but he would never embarrass a superior officer by refusing the offered glass.

His smile grew wider as he picked up his own glass. He had always appreciated Sebastian's jovial nature, since he first saw it break a path through the stiff conduct he usually indulged in. It had more than once brightened his day in the very joyless times of the battles for Magellan and Leeds.

He said looking at the glass in his hand, absent-mindedly. Then he pulled himself back together.

He kept his eyes fixed on his friends face, waiting for his reaction.