"What do you mean it's not for you, Sir? I need to see a license, you know that."
The cashier seemed pretty annoyed after the third time explaining the same problem to a costumer.
The man let out a resigned sigh. He came here to relax, to have fun and get a slight tan on his otherwise pale skin. After all, Gran Canaria's beaches are excellent for such ambitions. Instead, within the first twenty minutes on this planet, a stubborn rental owner has to cross those plans.
"Alright, for the last time, my friend: The hoverbike is for a friend of mine, because I got my own in the shuttle. She has a driver license, why else would I go through all that paperwork and pay the fee?! Only to let her get caught by one of those pesky police drones during the mandatory check? There is no logic in lying about a damn document!"
"And there is also no logic in bending the law in our fine town. No license, no hoverbike, egghead." The bulky man ironically pets his lean costumer on the head.
When would Flora finally arrive to resolve this mess? She's already late...
As if on cue, Flora barged through the door, panting a little after the jog.
- Oh my Goddess, I'm so sorry for being late! - she apologised immediately after entering, fixing her hair and approaching the counter. - Is there a problem? - she then asked, noticing how both men seemed rather annoyed.
- Is the hoverbike for you? - the cashier asked, causing Flora to nod in response. - I need to see your license.
- Oh, okay, one moment... - she combed her pockets briefly, eventually pulling out a slim, somewhat worn card. She then handed it to the cashier. Flora fixed her hair again, peeking at Hans before returning her attention to the man behind the counter. The worker just scanned her license, giving it back a moment later.
- Everything seems in order... - he said afterwards. Flora released a faint sigh of relief.
"Well, seeee?", Hans rolls his eyes, "Just like I said...Sir." He crosses his arms, almost sounding like an annoyed teenager. The shop owner comments it with a grunt. "The bikes are in the courtyard, unlocked. Don't scratch the paintjob, beanpole. Same counts for the girl."
It is probably a good move to keep his mouth shut until they were on the road. Flora, on the other hand, has a hard time to hold back an amused smile.
Ten minutes later, two roaring engines are raising dust off the dry highway in the middle of Gran Canaria's desert.
"Sheesh, finally...", Hans sighs over the communication device inside the helmet, "...I was so close to telling that meathead. What a jerk!"
"Hey, all went well and we're on our merry way to the beach. Besides, he was not your league...egghead.", she teases with a chuckle. "Oh, hardy-har-har, Miss Flora. I simply didn't want trouble with the police drones..."
The closer the duo gets to their destination, the greener nature gets. Soon, the road leads through pine forests and dry grassland. The rather quick change in beautiful sceneries has let them left silence, simply enjoying the ride on a lush planet. A welcomed change to the empty vaccuum in space. Eventually, the navigation system lead them off-track towards large dunes:
The ocean lies ahead.
Fresh, salty air and the swooshing sound of waves welcome every beach guest, just like the small bar made of wood and reed. Neatly placed in the shadow of palm trees, it serves as the social hotspot in the area.
Flora and Hans take off the restraining helmets to take in the sensations. An impulsive, happy smile forms on both of them. "So, Flora. Hit the bar first for the business stuff...or a quick dive into the sea?"
![[Image: e42yaLH.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/e42yaLH.jpg)