Starbuck palmed back the door to the captain's cabin and stepped inside.
Captain Birdsel stood in front of the small wall mirror tattooing a flying dragon on his bared chest. "Yes? What is it, Ben?"
"Sir, you remember that the ship's brain directed me to return at this time today. But I understand I'll have to have your permission to go onto that part of the bridge."
"The brain's directive was quite enough, my boy." He laid down the needle. "But I'll accompany you there if you like."
"Just as you wish, sir."
Birdsel smiled engagingly. "Noticed the dragon, did you?"
"It arrested my attention, yes, sir," Starbuck admitted.
"The hours are long and lonely in the vaults of space, Ben. A man needs a variety of interests to occupy himself. I have recently taken up the ancient art of tattooing."
"Surely not recently, sir. You seem quite advanced."
"You're too kind."