Snapdragon tea party

[Foxglove]

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The clamps of Alabama Shipyard settled on the hull of the Titanic with a reverberating thud that seemed uncharacteristically dull for the sound of steel grinding against steel. Probably the distance, the layers of technology, brass, wire and hull pannels were dampening the sound. It wouldn't travel through space, so the clamps would have needed to impact the hull with a force that sent audible vibrations through the interior.

Adrian Wight was on the bridge when the Titanic had sent the automated docking protocols, awaiting approval from Alabama. They hadn't granted them clearance from the get-go, it seemed. The ship was stationary for the time until the command on Alabama would assign them a drydock to proceed to. The autopilot would do the rest.

He had not awaited the moment until the ship would start moving again, instead making his way down three decks towards the airlocks. He expected to be brought to the APM CEO from there. His steps echoed through the empty hallways of the Titanic. Since its unfortunate accident that had caused the death of the majority of its crew, the Titanic had been nigh unto empty, only a handful of service robots performing the most essential of tasks. The Doctor had told Adrian that there would not be a problem obtaining a crew and that he shouldn't worry about that, and so he didn't. At this point, the Titanic was in relatively bad shape, and it was visible while passing the various rooms on his way to the airlock, where the failure of the life support and environmental regulation systems had caused damage to the interior.

Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice the opening of the airlock and the two men that talked to him, giving him directions. They were crude, brutish. It was evident their role was not that of a diplomat. Why waste effort on teaching them social etiquette if they could spend that time in the gym building muscle for their purpose instead? Adrian could appreciate the effet utile of it all. The way was grating, long. He hadn't thought the station would be that large, but given that it had taken him almost ten minutes to travel from one end of the Titanic to the other, he had to admit that his own sense of scale might not be the best. What followed were several checks for weapons and other hidden devices. Now lighter for having to have needed to hand over his PAD for the duration of his visit, he knocked on the door he had eventually been delivered to and waited for the call to enter before stepping in. It irked him slightly that he had needed to relinquish his PAD, since it had contained some visualizations for the talk with the Director. He would need to do without, it seemed.

Adrian was more immaculately dressed than the Doctor would have been, wearing a plain white suit with a grey tie. The thought of the Doctor probably having only work a lab coat over her casual attire made him smirk inwardly as he approached the man seated behind a desk. An office, it seemed. "Mr. McKinsey," Adrian spoke up, coming to a standstill before the desk and extending his hand to offer a firm handshake. He would not sit down unless told to, however. That much courtesy he knew to obey that the Doctor probably wouldn't. It was probably a blessing that she wasn't here in his stead right now. "A pleasure to meet you."

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