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[right][hr][color=white][b][b]Smith's Rest | Transit Station[/b][/b][/color]
January 16th, 2677[hr][/right]
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That [i]'conversation'[/i] with Demetrius went about how Mara expected it to. It mirrored all the other little talks she had tried to initiate with him ever since they left the battalion to strike out on their own. He always found some way to brush her off; had some excuse to keep from engaging. Mara couldn't shake the feeling that he'd conveniently lose his characteristic bluntness and honesty the moment that particular topic came up. There'd be something else, something more important he needed to do with his time. Or he wouldn't [i]'hear'[/i] her talking to him in the first place.

Maybe that was why Demi was always pumping that garbage into his ears.

[color=7f99f6][i]'Doesn't help that I forget how to talk every time I try it, but...'[/i][/color]

Mara's train of thought quickly found itself derailed at the sound of some other passenger yelling at them, apparently unhappy with Demi's choice in music. Her accent was thick and exotic, hailing from some corner of the world Mara had never been- if she had to guess, it sounded close to some Oceanians she'd heard in holovids in the past. But what was someone like that doing all the way up here? Not...that she had any room to talk in the 'a little far from home' department.

For the briefest moment Solon felt a heat rise to her ears and a choler build in her throat, her natural instinct being to meet hostility with it in equal measure, but she knew picking a fight before she was even on [i]base[/i] was a good way to get her contract shredded. She needed to choke it back if she wanted to make a good first impression. [color=7f99f6]"Sorry 'bout that."[/color] Solon forced a grin, deliberately relaxing her posture. [color=7f99f6]"S'not my first choice either."[/color]

It seemed to work, too, as the other woman broke off to gaze out the window, allowing Mara to breath a quiet sigh of relief. If the Aussie had decided to escalate Solon couldn't guarantee she'd keep her cool for long; that was something she was getting less and less capable of as the days ticked on.   

Demi hadn't so much as blinked during the brief confrontation, so zoned out he might as well be on another planet.

Not much time passed before Smith's Rest came into sight. The tram started to slow and the passengers began to gather what belongings they'd brought on with them in preparation to step off. Mara slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and stuffed Demi's own into his lap in the process, keenly aware of how likely he was to leave it behind.

Stepping off the tram and into the transit station brought with it a great sense of relief. She was glad to be done away with the stench in the train, and even if the air in 'Rest was stale and a bit musky, anything was better than what she was leaving behind.		

The misfit band of pilots, workers and settlers found themselves greeted almost immediately by two figures. The man with the datapad appeared to be some kind of administrator or coordinator here to make sure the tram was running on time and no cargo or personnel were missing. It was the man standing beside him that [i]really[/i] interested Mara. Tall, strong-jawed, and eyes like a hawk- she knew a military officer when she saw one, and from what she'd heard there was only one man in New Anchorage that carried himself like a real soldier.

Mara was less-than-subtle about making sure she was one of the first out in front, leaving her brother lagging behind as she did so. She snapped a quick salute for Director Graham, her soon-to-be commanding officer. She knew enough about outfits like this to know how hellish it was to be on the XO's bad side. Anybody with a brain would know to start brown nosing the second they could. [color=7f99f6]"Reportin' for duty, sir!"[/color]
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