Snippet #1389725

Grant brought his arms down and blinked away the creeping tiredness in his eyes, one hand slapping against Kane's palm in a quick grasp. He felt at that moment that he must have finally cracked under the pressure of work. He was about to walk out of a steady job, regardless of how little time may be left on it, and go galavanting through space with a total stranger who was under the illusion that humankind could take a place in the sprawl of civilisation. Too late now, he'd given his hand as his word and he never went aback on that. It was surprising how quick he had allowed himself to be conscripted but then again Kane seemed to have a way with words, something that Grant himself lacked.
"You'd better know what you're doing," he said loudly after his new companion as he walked away through the canteen, though he was speaking just as much to himself. A few seconds later he followed suit, far from dismayed to be seeing the back of this place.

The switch from artificial gravity was taken as gracefully as a man his size could take it; a smooth fall forward across the threshold leading into a series of pulls forward with his muscular arms that he may as well have been swimming through the recycled air. His destination was the worker's quarters in the opposite direction of the docking bays. Once there he made his way to his own cramped living space and gathered what little belongings he had into two seperate pieces of carrying equipment. One was a drawstring bag he threw over his shoulder, the other a heavy toolbox, worn from use, faded and dented. It contained a few vital peices of mining equipment that no labourer was to be without and was pretty much the only set of belongings he had besides the few clothes thrown into his bag. He then changed into an outfit he had not packed - A baggy, white shirt marked with years of grime and stains, grey worker's trousers and a short leather jacket that didn't quite reach his waist. It was jet black and easily the most valuable thing he owned. Won through gambling on a particularly slow period of work elsewhere in the galaxy, it was the hide of a pest that cropped up on few asteroids and caused all manner of trouble. They'd been exterminated for the most part, making them rare and this particular item of clothing worth more than the paycheque he wouldn't be recieving at the end of this month. It wasn't the value that attracted him to it, it was the feel of the garment. The smooth texture had an almost fluid dynamic to it while retaining a serious amount of resilience which also made it a practical piece of clothing.

Suitably dressed and with luggage in tow, Grant attracted a few confused stares as he set off for the docking bays. There were no 'affairs' to be put in order, no goodbyes to be said. He was a loner really, he didn't feel the need to interact as much as other humans and that suited his boss just fine. The only words he uttered on the way were to the same elderly man who Kane had encountered on his way through earlier. A simple "Take it easy old fella" was all he said under his breath as he passed, never to set foot on this rock again. He didn't take long to reach Docking Bay 2 and when he arrived he was surprised to see that it wasn't a small, personal craft that Kane had accumulated along the way but a sizeable, if not slightly dated, ship. And there was the man himself, waiting at the airlock. With a curt nod of the head, Grant scooped his arm forward and his bag started slowly spinning it's way toward the waiting Captain so he had a hand free to pull his weight along.

"The shit I get meself in ter..." was his greeting when he was in earshot of Kane.