“Ladies and gentlemen,” Reefer mutters so that only Atlas and Galligher can hear him in the crowd around 7-b and c. “The Fleet’s golden boys and girls.”

Njord’s ramp is lowered with a thud, even as Skaoi begins a touchdown far too graceful for a ship that large. There is quite a turnout, as always, for ships docking at the base. Friends and family of the crew, the landing crews, the base officials, and the occasionally spectator crowd around the dock, in this case docks, and it’s all very jovial. Haast was given the same warm welcome just a few hours ago, and it’s always nice to be appreciated.

The usual customs official ascends the ramp, passbook and stamp in hand, and he’s greeted just as he reaches the apex. Njord’s crew moves into view, a somber bunch in the all black Fleet uniform.

“The one holding their passports there? That’s Fosher Whim, he’s the captain.” Reefer says, nodding up at the gathering. “The one next to him, looking this way, that’s Jase Charter. He’s the lieutenant.”

“Luke’s doctor?” Atlas asks, and again Reefer casually shifts to grind his heel into Galligher’s instep.

“Yeah, uh, you’re gonna want to practice your story of West Range in a mirror.”

The custom official hands back the passports and trots back down the ramp and over to 7-c, where Skaoi’s just getting started.

“The other four are Gary Saab, he’s weapons officer, Connor Forest, Jamie MacAvity, and Jansen Donett.” Reefer adds, almost as an after thought.

“MacAvity…?”

“His older brother was the first victim of the Bed Bug.” Galligher interjects, leaning forward so they can hear him over the noise of the crowd. “And while we’re here…” And he starts pushing his way through the throng of people, Herbert clutched closely.

“Melon Tag is a wonderful thing.” Reefer says solemnly. Atlas just shakes his head, not really sure he understands these people, so very different from his old post.

“Draugh to land in five; I repeat, Draugh to dock in five. Landing crew, please report to dock 8-a.”

People scatter, chattering excitedly. And Njord’s crew is descending. And the wind builds, easily drowning out all those noises synonymous with such a homecoming as this.

Previous: Scene 6-II

Scene 6-III

Next: Scene 6-IV