(no subject)
The hatch door split open, then slid away into the frame on either side with a loud hiss. Suddenly, sounds of the docking ring's corridor filled the airlock hatch as people outside bustled by, oblivious to the open doorway.
The courier retrieved his credit chip from the panel just inside, having finished ordering a fuel loader to fill up his engine cells. He tucked it back into an inside pocket of his courier's jacket before heading into the crowd with his hands in his pockets. Behind him, as he stepped away, the hatch closed just as loudly as it had opened.
He peered around with hazel eyes as he walked, watching those around him, the majority being human. Voices mingled, creating a noisy chorus of conversation. The occasional shout rose above everything else, one person or two trying to get the attentions of another person or group.
Finally, he pushed himself out of the wave of people, and emerged into the main public promenade, where more people bustled, sitting at merchant stalls and "outside" food vendors. Music from a couple local tavernas could be heard, filtering outside through their hatchways.
He patted his pockets down, making sure he still had everything he'd gathered off his ship: his wallet inside his jacket, his credit chips, and the spare energy cell. He pulled his jacket up, looking down at his tool belt, making sure his datapad was strapped in it's little pouch, and that his makeshift label scanner was in it's holster.
TOO BAD I DEVELOPED A FUCKING WRITER'S BLOCK SHORTLY AFTER STARTING THIS PART!
..... FUCK!
The courier retrieved his credit chip from the panel just inside, having finished ordering a fuel loader to fill up his engine cells. He tucked it back into an inside pocket of his courier's jacket before heading into the crowd with his hands in his pockets. Behind him, as he stepped away, the hatch closed just as loudly as it had opened.
He peered around with hazel eyes as he walked, watching those around him, the majority being human. Voices mingled, creating a noisy chorus of conversation. The occasional shout rose above everything else, one person or two trying to get the attentions of another person or group.
Finally, he pushed himself out of the wave of people, and emerged into the main public promenade, where more people bustled, sitting at merchant stalls and "outside" food vendors. Music from a couple local tavernas could be heard, filtering outside through their hatchways.
He patted his pockets down, making sure he still had everything he'd gathered off his ship: his wallet inside his jacket, his credit chips, and the spare energy cell. He pulled his jacket up, looking down at his tool belt, making sure his datapad was strapped in it's little pouch, and that his makeshift label scanner was in it's holster.
TOO BAD I DEVELOPED A FUCKING WRITER'S BLOCK SHORTLY AFTER STARTING THIS PART!
..... FUCK!