Dekkan Fray
RETIRED
Triewahl Docking Station
![V0g9R.jpg](http://i.picresize.com/images/2014/06/17/V0g9R.jpg)
Six Years Prior
A large thoroughfare of space traffic zipped by on either side of a wide chasm. Across the way a similar escapade was occurring. The bustling docking station hosted all manner of creatures and sentients boarding and exiting various space-worthy vessels (and some not so much). Credits exchanged by hundreds of thousands of datapads all logging the collective traffic comprising a sea of destinations. Various small time shops hosting a variant of cuisine for all tongues and star systems alike. The larger ships didn't dock here though, these were mostly for inter-rim traffic. It look longer, didn't have on-board galleys or, or sleeping quarters. However what it lacked in luxury, it made up for in privacy. Just you, perhaps a few of your friends and a pilot or two. Sidewalks crammed with people from all walks of the Galaxy shuffling baggage around in all manner of sizes and shapes. Speech of various tongues mixing together into an indecipherable din of noise. There, seated or more hunched at ground level sat one particular man. He didn't look impressive, and in point of fact was not all that impressive in and of himself. Dark hair hung on around his weather-beaten face, with the makings of a two month old beard. Human by the looks of him. The cloth of his shirt was thick, somewhat dingy but relatively clean. A pair of dark trousers and shoes that looked worse for the wear. The muscle structure of his arms evident, as were the working man's hands clearly visible. Each arm propped up on bent knees while a sack sat between his feet and just inches away from fingertips. All of his life possessions rolled up unceremoniously into one makeshift container. Not even a glance upward as people walked by with their own affairs. Most ignored him, as he was quite ignorable in his current state. He wasn't focused so much on them either - his thoughts were his focus, and they were dark - and full of pain.
Resting precariously atop the gunny sack was a single ticket. A ticket that was meant for one of these passing shuttles. It didn't matter which one, they all took the same fare. A purchased ticket that allow passage. Once inside you paid the fare of the trip, but this was just a reservation. You needed one in this busy of a system. Something that would guarantee you passage off the station and to where you need to be. That was the problem - Dekkan didn't need to be anywhere. He wanted to, but he had no destination in mind. He would preferred not to have to make that decision, but he was the only one who could make it. The hints of liquor were on his breath, but that wasn't unusual. Those hints had been on his breath for the last couple of years. Not that it helped that much. Awake was bad, asleep was worse, made clear by the lines on his face and the heavy bags under his eyes.
What was he waiting for though? There were plenty of ships to choose from, plenty that were open and waiting for his ticket to be punched, and to take him where he wanted in the scope of their reach. Dekkan had wrestled time and again with getting up, choosing a ship and taking off. Maybe he'd cycle through the on-board maps and just blindly stab at a spot on it. Maybe he'd find something more amusing here on the station. There wasn't a shortage of work, but there wasn't much that kept his mind occupied and his body tired enough to sleep at peace. There wasn't peace, hadn't been since...he didn't remember really the last time he had a good night's rest. It was always, always interrupted. So for now, here he sat. And he'd been there for over three hours.
[member="Sophia Denko"]