Amid the mess of expansions and domes that collectively formed the space borne mess known as Freeport 1, one could be forgiven for missing Accommodation Block 6. After all; outwardly it was no different from any of the other overcrowded living spaces aboard the station. However; few noticed that the observed living block lacked any means of access. Those that did notice were either in too much of a hurry to get to the bar to care, or looking for it. In actuality; the entrance to Block 6 was located an entire three floors below the usual quarters, adjacent to the station's much-neglected escape pods and of course, as far as it was physically possible to be from the landing deck.
Just the way Icarus wanted it.
If one was able to breach the) triple-locked door, and bypass the associated alarm systems they would be remarkably disappointed. Instead of the typical clutter of beds and discarded clothing that would typically adorn such a room, they'd instead be confronted by a single computer, sitting astride a run-of-the-mill fold out plastic table. The machine simply sat there; activity lights blinking idly, awaiting a password. A single scuffed slot adorned the otherwise bare table, the gap sealed away from the outside world via three centimetres of toughened steel.
A few floors up, in the infinitely more appealing bar, men sat drinking and laughing; a few idly flicking through data pads and yet another dangling what appeared to be a handheld game console from his hand. To an outside observer, it could have been a normal day.
