Double Drabble: Docking Manoeuvres
Title: Docking Manoeuvres
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 687: Dock at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack and Ianto arrive at a remote space station.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble. Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Jack nosed the Happy Wanderer slowly and carefully into space dock. Most of the larger, more heavily trafficked space stations used automated systems, the station’s computers talking to those aboard the incoming ship, while others used space tugs to guide vessels into their assigned slips, but out here close to the Rim, such manoeuvres were carried out manually.
Ianto could never quite get over how dextrous Jack was, using the thrusters to nudge the huge ship an inch or two to port, lowering the Wanderer’s nose by a foot, easing back the engines a notch to reduce their speed still further until they glided gently to a halt, perfectly positioned for the docking clamps and umbilicals to engage. Even after almost ten years of transporting cargo from place to place, he couldn’t imagine carrying out a manual docking himself. If he tried, he’d probably slam headfirst into something important, causing damage costing millions of Galactic Credits to repair.
“Smooth as silk, as always,” he said, smiling, as he felt the vibrations that indicated the ship was now locked securely in place for unloading.
“It’s like making love; just a case of letting the ship become an extension of your body.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 687: Dock at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack and Ianto arrive at a remote space station.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble. Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Jack nosed the Happy Wanderer slowly and carefully into space dock. Most of the larger, more heavily trafficked space stations used automated systems, the station’s computers talking to those aboard the incoming ship, while others used space tugs to guide vessels into their assigned slips, but out here close to the Rim, such manoeuvres were carried out manually.
Ianto could never quite get over how dextrous Jack was, using the thrusters to nudge the huge ship an inch or two to port, lowering the Wanderer’s nose by a foot, easing back the engines a notch to reduce their speed still further until they glided gently to a halt, perfectly positioned for the docking clamps and umbilicals to engage. Even after almost ten years of transporting cargo from place to place, he couldn’t imagine carrying out a manual docking himself. If he tried, he’d probably slam headfirst into something important, causing damage costing millions of Galactic Credits to repair.
“Smooth as silk, as always,” he said, smiling, as he felt the vibrations that indicated the ship was now locked securely in place for unloading.
“It’s like making love; just a case of letting the ship become an extension of your body.”
The End