The starship swung into orbit around Deneb IV, gliding in like a gull on a lazy ocean breeze. Bosun's mate Joe Warner watched the planet looming on the screen at his duty station. It was a thick blue crescent, streaked with white cloud formations and, here and there, the browns and greens of continents. The lights of cities gleamed like tiny gems on the night side. Never had he seen a more welcome sight. Not simply because it was beautiful, which it was, but because, for the first time in five long months of dull patrol duty, they had arrived at a friendly port of call.
Joe waited until the orbit was locked and the ship's whistle trilled before he consulted the duty roster. The screen filled with a long list of names. For a brief second, he panicked, unable to locate his own--but there it was, safely tucked in alphabetical order under the heading: "R&R, 72 hours." He stared at the authorization for a full three minutes, even called it up onto the display a second time. It was real.
No sooner had the ensign given him permission to leave his duty station than he was on the ship intercom.
"Al. This is Joe--" he began, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.
The voice on the other end of the circuit was mirthful. "I know. I saw the roster. Shore leave on Deneb IV. So what are you waiting for? I'll meet you in sickbay."
Joe virtually ran the whole way. Even so, Al was there first, his mile-wide grin and bright red, kinky hair making him look a bit like a circus clown. They joined the queue of enlisted men waiting for the medics to certify that they had all the proper immunizations for this particular world. Two men who had already been processed rushed by, waving their updated med bracelets, inciting the envy of all who watched. Like gold, those bracelets--a crewman had to have one before he could be issued a shore leave pass.
"Well, Joe me boy," Al said, squeezing his companion on the shoulder. "Another hour and I'll show you why Deneb IV is spacer's heaven."
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