In Search of the Celestials

Jovan Station was amazing. It was a hub of all things lively and vibrant. It was also plagued by bureaucracy, but that was the way of so many places. Al of his papers were in order, and all of his credentials... mostly accepted. At least getting through customs was easy enough, and Parr Olleikos was soon enough on his way to the lift. His single carry-on was held in a loose grip at his side, as he shuffled into the cramped space, and when the door closed, he simply nodded at the body closest to the comm panel.

"Habitation level, yeah."

The Ithorian grunted in answer, not really looking twice at the usually recognizable facial tattoo.

It was a nice change of pace, but at the same time he immediately felt a pang of disappointment at the lack of recognition.

Minutes later, the lift slowed, and the doors opened to disgorge most of the passengers - including himself.

Stepping to the side and out of the way, he lifted a flimsi up to give it another once-over.

Room 7A-2.

He blinked, looked up, and spotted a placard on the opposite side of the corridor - 6A through 9A.

At least he was on the right level.

A roll of his shoulders, and Parr set off in the arrow directions that would bring him to his reserved room.

He was halfway thumbing through the flimsi. It provided a cursory overview of the amenities offered on the habitation level that he was on. It was nothing too ostentatious. Small food-stall vendors that offered snacks and small plates. A Cizerack service of some sort (he did not necessarily pay that entry too much mind, since it interested him very little). A listing for stalls that carried general goods. It was all very normal.

He dodged the few other individuals who also made their way to their own rooms. It was not a large amount, thank goodness.

The flimsi gave an acknowledging beep as he reached his quarters, and stopping, Parr turned to face the door that led to his temporary rooms. One hand with his carry-on, and the other with the flimsi, he gave the door a quick once-over. And then he set his small luggage to the ground, reaching forward with his now-free hand to enter his code into the entry keypad.