Homeward Bound

[Toaster]

September 21st, 826 A.S.
Deep Space

“Captain on deck,” the young man sitting at the navigation console said curtly, straightening in his chair. The rest of the bridge crew barely reacted, instead continuing to stare at their screen readouts, jot down notes, or, in one case, doze off. The atmosphere in the room was dull; the air still and stale. It was almost silent, only the occasional cough or the buzz of a computer interrupting the quiet. The young man’s shoulders slumped as he noticed his comrades’ apathy.

“At ease, Mr. Culling,” Captain Wallace muttered as he strode over the bulkhead’s threshold onto the bridge. He stifled a yawn, instead choosing to stretch his arms towards the ceiling. He could feel his spine pop at the exertion. “I’m glad at least someone still cares about ceremony after all this time.” He gave the young navigator a pat on the shoulder before turning towards the command chair. He gave out a disappointed sigh as he spotted a tray of half-eaten food paste resting on the seat.

“Sorry, cap,” a female voice spoke up. A woman in her mid-thirties stepped past him, brushing her shoulder against his. “Let me get that.” She picked up the tablet and unceremoniously chucked it into a corner of the deck, where it clattered loudly against the steel wall. The sudden sound seemed to shock the remaining command crew back into awareness. They jumped, looking around uncertainly.

“That should get you some attention,” the crewwoman whispered as she passed the captain again, returning to her console. The captain smirked after her before taking his seat.

Getting comfortable, he looked over his crew. Four men, one woman. All of varying ethnic, social, and economic backgrounds. All of them his family for the past five years. There was Mr. Gustav Braumann, communications. He nodded towards the captain before returning his dark, sunken eyes towards his screen, absentmindedly scratching his scruffy beard. His job had essentially consisted of relaying crew messages towards their respective home systems via narrow-beam transmissions for the past half-decade. There had not been any direct communications for him to manage since they left.

Then there was Mr. Sota Iwamatsu, engineering. His post had been a lot busier, staying in constant communication with the engineering team, maintaining the ship throughout its journey. He had spent most of his time learning every detail, discovering every quirk, and studying ever nook and cranny of the ship. By now, he could probably fix any issue that might arise blindfolded. He gave Captain Wallace a polite bow and went back to reading one of the ship’s many manuals.

Third, there was Mr. Nathan Culling, navigation. He was one of the youngest crewmembers aboard at only twenty-six years. Many still made fun of him for ‘having just hit puberty,’ but everyone respected him. He had proven to be an excellent helmsman over the years, always eager to do his job to the best of his ability. Even now, on this quiet return journey, he gazed intently at his console, making sure their course was as exact as could be. Wallace allowed himself a rare smile. The boy had a lot of potential.

Next was Mr. Emanuel Juaré. Presenting the polar opposite of Mr. Culling, he was the oldest man on board. His hair was an unkempt, grey mess, his face covered in badly maintained stubble. Resting his head on his arms and his arms on his screen, he snoozed. The captain couldn’t blame him. Ever since they embarked on their return journey a year ago, Juaré had little to do. His survey drones were packed tightly away in the cargo hold, collecting dust. Why he even bothered to show up on the bridge anymore, no one knew. The old drone pilot could just as well spend his days sleeping in his bunk.

Finally, there was Ms. Melissa Cartly, sensor ops. Also, Wallace’s second-in-command. She carefully studied her readouts, scribbling diagrams and notes onto a good old pen-and-paper notepad. Next to Iwamatsu, she was – in the captain’s opinion – the most reliable person on the ship. Calm, professional, and to the point, she had done an excellent job at collecting every bit of data from the vessel’s extensive sensor array that she could. It was in large parts thanks to her that the expedition had turned out to be such a great success. Her performance also made her immensely popular with the otherwise rather isolated team of scientists and researchers that they carried on board.