A manta whizzed past the Viewing deck on the Newark station bar.
Screaming into dock, it was apparent to the trained eye that the fighter was on its last knees. There were loose gunmounts, and the general hull was steaming despite the coldness of space.
Stuart Payne tumbled out of his ship, right into the bodies of some unsuspecting dockworkers. Quickly composing himself after the fall, Stuart got up quickly and rushed into the Inn, leaving the startled workers on the floor.
As he entered, all heads turned towards him as he made his way to a stool in the Inn. He sat down, heaving his arms on to the table.
