05-21-2018, 10:18 AM
![[Image: GHh1VuJ.png]](https://imgur.com/GHh1VuJ.png)
It was early morning when the vessel reached Cambridge Research Station's bays. The hired civilian armored transport had departed even earlier that day from Planet Stuttgart - a contract arranged by a man who desired to use the best of their time.
- "Herr Brahms? Docking operators are requesting our clearance."
- "Oh, thank you - I will send my ID through the communication stream." - The german had a datapad on his hands. - "Please tell them we're here to meet Herr Oscar Sanders."
Docking procedures didn't take long, and not a moment afterwards he was walking through the civilian area. He took his time, measuring his pace and politely observing the station's movement - be them commercials he was used to seeing or new pharmaceutical products entering the market, it had been a while since the last time he stepped into a office of this grade.
- "Good morning sir, welcome to Cambridge Research Station, how may I help you?"
- "Guten Tag. My name is Allan Brahms Fawkes, I believe I am expected." - Brahms smiled as he greeted the employee, handing a datapad with Sander's message highlighted.
Allan wardrobe was social - but his beard, mustache and glasses combined in a way that it spelled "client" instead of "businessman". Two others who were in silence until then shook hands with the man shortly after - an older man, who wore a smile on top of a simple buttoned shirt and civilian clothing, and a woman, who if it wasn't for a Freeport pin on her lapel would blend right in with those who worked at the Station.
- "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Brahms, we've been told you were coming. If you could wait but for a moment, I will check if Mr. Sanders is ready to see you. Excuse me."