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Message: <blockquote data-quote="grufflehead" data-source="post: 5317502" data-attributes="member: 35977">'Wow!' said Gruffle peering out of one of the observation hatches as the ship touched down on the blasted landing strip. No matter how desolate or unappealing a world the 'Zax' stopped at, the young Vargr always viewed it with a sense of wonder and excitement. As soon as the clamps were engaged, he wriggled out of his landing harness and scampered from engineering down to the cargo deck. Pressing the cargo bay door release, he nimbly hopped up onto a pile of crates and watched as the view of the 'spaceport' was revealed. He stood, wide-eyed for several moments taking in the collection of slightly rundown container terminals and shabby buildings as if it were some grand metropolis, then hastily switching on his digital camera and taking a few seconds of footage, before closing the door again to stop the air inside the cargo bay becoming too fouled by the spore-rich planetary atmosphere. He wrinkled his snout at the slighly musky odour of the native vegetation, and had to suppress the urge to sneeze.By the time any of the other crew members had made it down to the hold, he'd already taken the ship's servo-loader and started arranging the crates into groups suitable for loading into a grav-track. Or given the look of the facilities in the starport, perhaps that Corsa Systems diesel hi-sider parked beside the larger of the warehouses was more likely. Assuming it was the Mark III (which from the shape of the front grille it was), then given the size of the crates, he quickly calculated that it would take 3 trips to get everything to the warehouse.The sound of his cheery whistling - a strange habit for a Vargr to have picked up - drifted through the commlink...</blockquote>

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