He had gotten himself separated, only in part on purpose, from the rest of his squadron. The station had made it easy for him - the late afternoon at the end of the working week was far busier than it had been when they’d arrived, and the crowd swallowed him up like the ocean. It brimmed throughout the station building, small streams of people trickling to platforms and shops and exits. For a while he had wandered, unhurried and comfortable in the knowledge that his train would take its time in arriving, in offloading its passengers, in getting refuelled and cleaned.

And then he found the stream of people which would take him to the right platform, joined with them and let himself be led again, lost in idle thought. The journey wasn’t one he looked forward to particularly - Tekka City to Draseel did not offer much in the way of sight-seeing out of the stained windows - but it was an opportunity to be alone before he was to spend more time than he was comfortable with around people who could (and some, he did not doubt, were willing to) kill him with the power stored in their pinky finger. The journey would likely be the last time when he was able to drift off in at least tentative peace.

Not that he was willing to admit this to himself.

The crowd on the platform, now stagnant as they waited, was less easy to maneuver than the moving sea of people had been. The uniform helped, though, stiff as it was - the silvery moon-sigil on his shoulder, his heavy boots, the clicking of armour under pale blue fabric had that effect on people. Ruaridh realised he wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in it, suspecting he would find himself stiff and aching when he woke up at Draseel Station. Unfortunately, it was also an incredibly warm sort of attire, and the warmth would likely not prevent him from drifting off.

The train doors opened with a hiss, and Ruaridh sucked in his last fresh breath (insofar station air could be considered fresh) before boarding the carriage right behind the one the squadron had boarded. He found an empty compartment on his third try, and closed the door decisively behind him before collapsing, rather ungracefully, on one of the seats. A few moments later, the train whistled, and they began to move. He didn’t know exactly when the rhythmic sound of the train on the tracks lulled him off to sleep.

What he did know, is that he was awoken by the door to the compartment opening - it shook him awake with the sort of start that officers dozing off on duty are known for. He couldn’t help an “Oh?” escaping him, looking up at the new arrival and straightening himself into one seat (rather than slumping over three) at the same time.

open | 484 | bother him !!!