OOM: Csaplar Docking Bay 029, Csilla
Jaina leans against the wall as she watches various snubs and personal vessels pass in and out of the force field protecting the docking bay from the harsh cold and snow outside. Snowflakes are falling today, the remnant of some storm or another that hit Csaplar's exterior days ago, but never affected the inhabitants of the underground city. They're pretty - as each sizzles to its death when it hits the field or a passing ship.
But by now, she's taken in about as much of this scenery as she can stand. Jaina pulls her poncho tighter around her, sighing and rolling her eyes when she glances at her chronometer. Ten past and they're still not here.
She glances over towards her husband, sitting on a nearby bench and sorting through a stack of memos or reports on his datapad. A split second later, Jaina heads over, sitting down next to him and leaning her head against his shoulder. "We are never arriving early again."
But by now, she's taken in about as much of this scenery as she can stand. Jaina pulls her poncho tighter around her, sighing and rolling her eyes when she glances at her chronometer. Ten past and they're still not here.
She glances over towards her husband, sitting on a nearby bench and sorting through a stack of memos or reports on his datapad. A split second later, Jaina heads over, sitting down next to him and leaning her head against his shoulder. "We are never arriving early again."