Buddy and Jake had used this trade route a dozen or so times in the past year alone and were expecting nothing out of the ordinary. From the mileage counter to the security checks to the way that Buddy complained about the oxygen intake on their (admittedly rather old) Class 6 trade vessel, everything went as smoothly as always.
As they hit the gravity belt for Mars they pulled over into "The Minty Shrimp Diner & Genuine Seafood" docking bay for the umpteenth time on their umpteenth trip to the planet, they debated the potential staff on shift, trying to decide if they wanted to risk it with the chef who loathed their very existence (for reasons beyond them) and sit down for a meal or if they wanted to grab coffees to go and eat when they hit the surface.
In the end they voted on coffee as Jake vaguely remembered a waitress telling him that the chef had gone to Earth for a month to get some weird salivary gland implant that may or may not induce severe vomiting with certain hormonal balances. It wasn't worth the risk and with the coffee machine being right on the front counter they could rest assured that it wouldn't be tampered with.
The entire time they were docking and debating they never noticed the sudden stampede of wounded customers fleeing to their ships and disengaging so fast they risked oxygen leakage. Neither of then saw the way that the fleeing ships turned on one another and set off on bulldog chases that quickly spiralled down to the planet's surface. They didn't even see the bloodied hands that beat at the diner's windows with such desperate fervour before being yanked back into the kitchen.
Buddy and Jake ignored the little blue dot that indicated incoming calls from other vessel, heading straight for the docking tube to get their much needed coffee for the day.
As they hit the gravity belt for Mars they pulled over into "The Minty Shrimp Diner & Genuine Seafood" docking bay for the umpteenth time on their umpteenth trip to the planet, they debated the potential staff on shift, trying to decide if they wanted to risk it with the chef who loathed their very existence (for reasons beyond them) and sit down for a meal or if they wanted to grab coffees to go and eat when they hit the surface.
In the end they voted on coffee as Jake vaguely remembered a waitress telling him that the chef had gone to Earth for a month to get some weird salivary gland implant that may or may not induce severe vomiting with certain hormonal balances. It wasn't worth the risk and with the coffee machine being right on the front counter they could rest assured that it wouldn't be tampered with.
The entire time they were docking and debating they never noticed the sudden stampede of wounded customers fleeing to their ships and disengaging so fast they risked oxygen leakage. Neither of then saw the way that the fleeing ships turned on one another and set off on bulldog chases that quickly spiralled down to the planet's surface. They didn't even see the bloodied hands that beat at the diner's windows with such desperate fervour before being yanked back into the kitchen.
Buddy and Jake ignored the little blue dot that indicated incoming calls from other vessel, heading straight for the docking tube to get their much needed coffee for the day.
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