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Date Posted: 20:55:18 12/12/01 Wed
Author: Ferguson
Subject: Enters the Station

A ragged, well traveled individual steps down from the shuttle and takes a minute to take the survey the station.
"Well, here I am" he says to no one in particular while he pats down his pockets for one of his cigarellos. He finds one and lights it with a match struck on the sole of his boot. Taking a long drag from the cigarello he thinks alound "I'm sick of shuttle food, I need something real."
He then strides across the station toward the vending machines.

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