At last they arrived at the station. Docking was not an unusual event.
They were situated a in an available birth that was midway between what
could have been called the Promenade and the farthest docking area. They
would be there with a short 8-10 minute walk.
On station, there were beings of just about all descriptions. There were
Bajorans, Cardassians, Ferengi, Humans, Packlids, Gorn, etc. A true mixing
bowl of different cultures that shared one culture- trade, commerce, and the
hidden world of illegal activity. The station itself was nothing
spectacular. The outside looked like an old, rundown Starfleet starbase.
The inside was different. While vaguely similar to a Federation deisgned
facility, it was better suited to it's purpose in this life- servicing ships
and play host to all sorts of.... interesting beings and agendas.
Matt checked his weapon quickly, then reholstered it. He also took a moment
to check his walking stick-sword, and then involuted it to a one decimeter
cylinder which he slid into his pocket. "Ready?" he asked.
(assuming yes?)
He locked down the ship, then headed through the docking hatch and into the
station, turning toward the Promenade. "You've been here before?" Matt
asked.
(eH?)
