Irma Kinton
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2018
- Messages
- 159
- Reaction score
- 53
THE EXPANSION REGION, PLANET DERRA IV, WAY-STATION IN ORBIT.
"Eider, the next time I say I want to skip a way-station, I want you to take the controls away from me, understand?"
ID-3R02 gave a warble of agreement as Irma Kinton walked stiffly down the corridor of one of the Derra IV orbital way-station's docking arms. The station was a generic 500-series platform, one of countless examples which orbited backrocket planets across the Galaxy. This one was in average condition for one of its kind, that was to say just short of chronic disrepair; seemingly, the government of the planet below had better things to worry about than the state of its orbital infrastructure.
None of this mattered a pittance to Irma. If the station had a working refresher and a place that served food that wasn't self-heating or came direct from a foil pack, she would be more than happy with the accommodations.
After a few moments walk, Irma and Eider passed under a buzzing holosign which proclaimed "WELCOME TO THE DERRA IV SERVICES" in large, block aurebesh letters. They emerged onto the station's outer concourse; huge transparisteel viewports in the outer wall looked out on the globe of Derra IV below, and at the starfield beyond. Along the inner wall of the concourse were store-fronts, more than a few of which seemed to be vacant, though the rest seemed to be occupied by a collection of travel shops, a starship part store, a few chain fast food restaurants, a capsule hotel and at least one cantina.
Irma looked around. There didn't seem to be many people on the station besides herself, although she had seen a few other ships docked outside. She imagined the station didn't get much traffic at the best of times.
Grunting, the Tintinna stretched her arms above her head and popped the vertebrae in her neck, sighing in relief at the luxury of being free from the confines of her starfighter's cockpit.
"Well, as dismal as all this is, it's good to be out and about..." Irma commented.
"Eider, the next time I say I want to skip a way-station, I want you to take the controls away from me, understand?"
ID-3R02 gave a warble of agreement as Irma Kinton walked stiffly down the corridor of one of the Derra IV orbital way-station's docking arms. The station was a generic 500-series platform, one of countless examples which orbited backrocket planets across the Galaxy. This one was in average condition for one of its kind, that was to say just short of chronic disrepair; seemingly, the government of the planet below had better things to worry about than the state of its orbital infrastructure.
None of this mattered a pittance to Irma. If the station had a working refresher and a place that served food that wasn't self-heating or came direct from a foil pack, she would be more than happy with the accommodations.
After a few moments walk, Irma and Eider passed under a buzzing holosign which proclaimed "WELCOME TO THE DERRA IV SERVICES" in large, block aurebesh letters. They emerged onto the station's outer concourse; huge transparisteel viewports in the outer wall looked out on the globe of Derra IV below, and at the starfield beyond. Along the inner wall of the concourse were store-fronts, more than a few of which seemed to be vacant, though the rest seemed to be occupied by a collection of travel shops, a starship part store, a few chain fast food restaurants, a capsule hotel and at least one cantina.
Irma looked around. There didn't seem to be many people on the station besides herself, although she had seen a few other ships docked outside. She imagined the station didn't get much traffic at the best of times.
Grunting, the Tintinna stretched her arms above her head and popped the vertebrae in her neck, sighing in relief at the luxury of being free from the confines of her starfighter's cockpit.
"Well, as dismal as all this is, it's good to be out and about..." Irma commented.
Last edited: