First Baffin Zoner Zummit at The Zenarch, Malaclypse Freeport

[n00bl3t]

A small lone eagle arrived in Baffin.

It lost it's escorts in the Sigma systems, deeming house space safe enough to fly through for a singe Zoner with no cargo.

Tobias Parkes, Administrator of Freeport 11 was a man well into old age. He had lived in space for most of his life, first with the military until an accident made him lose his left leg, then as a transport captain, until finally retiring to trading aboard a space station as a commodity dealer when his age caused him too much pain to fly daily.

There were no proud robes, just a large overcoat hiding well worn-in clothes. No pretty face, just a weathered one which had seen too much of Sirius.

Three taps echoed in a pattern on the floor, one like a normal footstep, the other a bit heavier, and then a click. This was the sound of Parkes walking away from the hangar with his walking stick propping up his aged frame. His leg with the prosthetic was sore from the flight and he was thankful he would get some rest here.

"I can't remember when I've been in a place so grand. What a waste of credits." He muttered, stumbling along.

He stopped suddenly, having no idea where he was going. Directions weren't included in the transmission to attend.

"Well, I'm going to sit down. I'm sure I look out of place enough that someone will find me soon enough." He sighed, sitting on a bench that adorned the hallway and readjusting the things under his coat to get comfortable.

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Anything I say is not intended as offensive, and to try and deliberately misinterpret it as such would be an attempt at trolling via misrepresentation.

It's not a conspiracy, it's localised bias. They're not intelligent enough to form a conspiracy.