Was in an industial dock just hanging there in the middle of nowhere. It was totally different than sleeping on my tiny old ship in the safe residential harbor of HalfMoon.
There, the gentle sway of the station is soothing, the tiny space equipped with life support not tall enough to stand in, but… everything at hand, the compact surroundings welcoming and cozy, the knowledge of the port being protected by the half moon carcass… calming.
There, as soon as the airlock hisses closed behind you, you feel safe and harbored, just like any worn out old mechanic like you shoud. Missing something? No problem, just jump in your suit and you can be back in half an hour, with anything your heart desires, and wallet can afford.
There, my old ship’s shiny hull is scratched only from the port’s anchoring clamps as I was learning how to dock. Also from me, trying to get in as a novice suit opertor, with my various treasures. Sometimes, the treasures did not want to fit through the airlock, other times their bulk swayed me off course and crashing into the hull, those were the early days… Never the less, no radiation. No debree. No Floaters. No DANGER.
Anyway. I got here early yesterday, because the suit gave me no problems. It really was a matter of adjustment. It carried the extra cargo without any issues, and I still had juice to spare. Incredible. When I first came out here, and saw all the mods people did to their suits (and ships), I could not believe that the things held together, let alone be EVAC safe. But now, my first proud mod behind me I started to understand, what this is all about.
First I went to see the port’s owner Bjorn to get the access codes. I have been out here only twice before, and the size of the place shocked me still. My guess was that it held about a hundered ships, all clamped on the main stem, reminding me of a DNA strand. Most of them functioned, you could tell by the tiny NAV lights flashing, and sometimes a dim light from inside. All of them were much bigger than my old home, there was even a Class A starship hanging at the very end in the distance.
I still had to hold on the the railing as I spoke with the owner, which made him smile. His body smoothly contradicted the vibrations of the port, making him stand perfectly still, while I was shaking like an expensive dog. I was also still shouting at him, trying to outspeak the machines around us, which he obviously did not hear.
Akwardly, I got the codes, and thanked my way out of there. Navigating the overloaded suit through the main stem of the port proved quite challenging, so I banged my way around until I found the appropriate number. After a few deep breaths I punched in the codes, and the airlock hissed open.
***
When I was here the first time and the pneumatic door opened, I thought what I saw was another room of the station. About three by six meters, and height well over two meters. To my absolute amazement then, and still a pang of awe now, it’s part of the ship. Lined up by large windows on three sides, and with the controls on one corner, one soon realizes that the airlock is the steering cabin of the kotter (my ship class). Incredibly efficient, but with some serious disadvantages. Anyway, the cabin is bigger than the whole sailship I called a home till then.
As I stepped in, and the door sealed behind me, I had to wait an eternity till the room pressurized, and I could crawl out of the suit.