Original artwork by Kirena-Kaya! Artist's post is over here.

Reality Shard 01
local stellar date 10.05.2218, 01:00 hours
Wayport 'Corlan's Gate'
Interstellar port space in the Corvusii sector. 

I watched sluggish trolleys burdened with identical boxes trundle on worn treads down worn decking. I watched transients lost on their own personal quests for the fabled navigation directories on this level. I watched a dour-looking quarter horse and nondescript dog in grey-suited security fatigues eyeball me to ensure I wasn't up to any mischief--surreptitiously glancing at my gunbelt, probably to make sure the weapon was secure--before hunting onwards for the scents of trouble.

I yawned.

Despite calling myself a nightfox, I hated the adjustment to someone else's idea of 'night'. Places like these run on their own clocks. Often is the case with wayports. Unmoored from a home system (and its security and taxes), they're like terrestrial gas stations upjumped to significance and outfitted to make themselves safe from piracy. I get the appeal. But it means they pull long hours, expecting ships like mine to come offloading or intaking at all hours, and frequently have delays despite heavy automation. Corlan's Gate's no different.

I should be back in my bunk aboard the Sapphire Vixen, streaking down the Threading--that's the Threadingway, one of the main branches of interstellar travel in this part of space--catching a snooze in transit with fifteen tons of cargo safely stored. Instead, I'm here sitting on containers like a serrol hen (think wingless, furred, oviparous sentient dragons), waiting for them to be cleared so I could cart them away. But this wayport's running behind. Maybe its people are as tired as I am... This was down time if there ever was any.

A movement caught my eye and I glanced aside surreptitiously from my cargo manifest to see a family of colonists being shepherded on the way somewhere. Ten-ish in number, they looked like tawny and grey-furred rodentia of some kind, though with tall ears and long tails and stouter bodies than squirrel-kind. Some kinds of chinchilla-rabbits I'd never seen before? They were on the passenger transit track to bays where another courier will likely take them to another world, which is what I do sometimes when not hauling freight.  The pay's nice, you meet interesting people sometimes if you interact. I certainly've met some memorable ones.

One of the younger ones was pointing her two...brothers? In my direction, which caught my eye. They all looked like farmers from a less-interstellar colony on a rare trip off world. So perhaps seeing an unusually black and orange vixen as large as some horses dressed casual in offworld clothes with a gunbelt probably stood out to the youths. They were gabbing something in their native language--I didn't recognize it--and the older brother(?) to the first little girl pointed and dropped into a familiar televid-show stance meant to initiate a laser duel. I grinned and shifted my seat on my cargo, gave them a motion like I was doing the same. We waited. Then when he twitched his arm, I jerked mine as if grabbing an imaginary pistol and flicked an invisible shot at him. He did his motion a half second later, but saw I'd already done mine. It was obvious who won!
 
The 'chillabunny-like pantomimed being hit. Spun on one digitigrade foot, his wirebrush sash of tail whipping his sister on the shoulder and making her hop back. Then he dramatically fell over "dead", that way pups do. I blew smoke from my finger and winked, holstered my paw. The smattering of gleeful giggles and rapid-fire chatter in their tongue was cut short by a more direct command from one of the grown-ups. The play-acting youth quickly back to his feet and huffed, then his brother stood out of the bow-legged dueling stance he took to goad me into drawing again. The grown-up in her pale brown shawl and baggy green clothing looked towards me with concern and apology. I chuckled, waved my paw dismissive of any concerns for being made to slay one of their youths.

The little girl took one last look and waved before joining her family and I returned to my ruminations. At least being made to perform, I wasn't tired any longer.  Sometimes distractions come right on time to help.

At least for a little bit. Hmm, still 34th in queue. I wonder if I installed any blasting games on this thing... 

A wonderful (and wonderfully speedy!) Speedpaint by Kirena-Kaya.  Not all cargo transfers are done quickly and some ports come with ample downtime.  At least the people-watching can be fun. I recommend visiting the artist: She has amazing turnaround for the stellar quality!
This is a part of my continuity for stories, worlds and races I'm quietly building as a creative hobby outside of paid work.

Niko Tawner by
Art by Kirena-Kaya