...All Alone in the Night...

[onemorebounty]

*A gleaming golden speck in the vast night of a system with few planets, Samus' ship glides through silent space, its destination visible ahead as a tiny point of light which, for all their speed, has grown in only the tiniest increments. From a pinpoint it grew to a scintillating pearl, and from there to a globe at the heart of a shining spider-

Comments

[in_the_cracks]

((That works for me. :) ))

The two Yeerks have been rather quiet on the final approach, each with plenty to occupy their thoughts. Not least their first look at Samus' home dimension. And if Telrim's eyes narrow on taking stock of the station's scale... well, they knew there was superior technology here. It's why they've come.

The human-Controller's first out of the ship after Samus, stepping off in her new dark grey vacsuit. She moves clear of the elevator, gaze scanning the docking bay. Telrim's had a chance to compose herself somewhat. She and her partner(s) are plunging into a world completely unknown to them, but that's almost reassuringly familiar itself. Her mouth twitches in a near-smirk as Issek disembarks behind her: she catches the hesitance in his centipede-steps. He's still dubious of his own vacsuit. His is grey as well, though he favours a lighter shade.

Think of it as extremely long-range recon, she's decided. Just like old times. More-or-less.

[conciergelionne]

The docking bay is utilitarian; functional for a variety of ships of a similar size to Samus', both for docking and repairs. There are various tools stowed in various places, either in clear-doored cabinets or on robotic limbs currently tucked against the walls and ceiling. Some of them might be weapons. Labels are in a variety of languages, the prevailing being GalStan West and none of them being English. The air isn't so much sterile smelling as bland, although most things are after a decontamination shower. Everything is in good repair and clean, but the color scheme was clearly decided by committee (in other words, it manages to be bland to the senses of every species known to the Federation).

The being waiting by the door is decidedly not committee-approved. She appears to be human, although her coloring... well, space. Humans are renowned for going out and dancing. The clothes she wears might be a uniform, although the lack of visible weapons should put to rest any concerns she's military. Her eyes are following the

[onemorebounty]

*Samus' step is easy as she crosses the bay to their welcoming committee; the gravity in her ship is set about ten percent heavier than Earth standard, which makes the bay seem lighter by comparison. Her smile is broad, and she restrains a chuckle with some effort at the formality.*

Ms. Lionne, is it? Well, it's good to see you again, in any case. Allow me to introduce my guests; Telrim, in Natasha, and Issek, in... I'm sorry, I haven't been introduced to his host. Telrim, Issek, I've known Aurora for her whole life--you can trust her as you trust me.

*She reflects on the events of the past day, and amends that statement slightly.*

More, probably.

[in_the_cracks]

Yeerks are quite comfortable with utilitarian. Telrim takes note of the general good repair and orderliness and assigns a modicum more respect to whoever's responsible. Most of her attention, however, goes to their welcoming party, and the way she and Samus address each other. She nods politely to Aurora when named, glad to have Samus set the form of their introduction. It's not the one she'd have chosen, but she suspects the hunter might rather insist on honesty. Better to go along with it than start an awkward discussion