One thing seemed to be the same no matter which planet you might find yourself on: there was never any shortage of<i>people</i>. Granted, most of the "people" on the hoverbus this evening weren't human--as a matter of fact, it seemed that she was in the minority here. Since the Drej had destroyed Earth when she was twelve, humanity had become somewhat of an endangered species. Billions had died in the initial blast, and for the next fourteen years, they had become scarcer and scarcer outside the few remaining drifter colonies. Planet-hoppers like her were a rarity.<br/><br/>Tamelyn Avaras did her best to ignore most of the other passengers, instead watching the city go by through the window. She was dead-tired from work at the landing docks, unloading cargo from the starships, and looking forward to a nice, long, dead-to-the-world nap before she had to get up again. The city saw a lot of interstellar traffic, seeing as one of the galaxy's major warp gates was floating in its orbit. It was a far cry from the dusty mining colony she had lived in before this, although she wasn't sure it was a good exchange. She had had a few friends there, at least, "comrades in misery" as one had put it. Here, she was a stranger in a strange land.<br/><br/>Her troubles had started when she had gotten into an argument with the foreman of the mining colony, a man who also happened to have connections to a notorious, system-spanning mob--it was one of those secrets that was a secret to absolutely nobody. How that jackass had gotten in charge, she had no idea, but she hadn't liked him since the day she came to work there. When he had decided to simultaneously increase their hours and cut their wages, citing an increased demand for the minerals they excavated, she had objected, vocally. Somehow, word must have reached the foreman that she was looking into unionizing the other colonists in order to better negotiate for themselves, because someone had nearly hit and killed her one evening while coming home from work. When the driver missed the first time and suddenly reversed as if to take another charge, she had bolted down an alleyway. When she reached her house, she found it utterly ransacked. The message was clear: she needed to make herself scarce if she wanted to stay alive.<br/><br/>That was how she had ended up light years away, in an sprawling hub city that seemed to have a human population she could have counted on one hand. It could have been worse, at least. She had managed to secure work and a roof over her head, although that roof had come with a few strings of its own. The apartment owner had agreed to lower her rent substantially in exchange for handling some odd jobs for him here and there, usually related to maintenance of the place, repairing things (she had always been good with machines, one of the few things she could be proud of), or ferrying packages around. Occasionally he asked other favors of her, but those occasions had thankfully been few and far between. Garraus was a sleazebag, but unfortunately, he had her over a barrel, so to speak. No other place with an open vacancy had been willing to board a human, not that she had ever stopped looking. The moment she had an opportunity to move out, she was taking it.<br/><br/>At her stop, she disembarked and set off down the street for her apartment. The evening sky was stained a dusty red, and the air was thick with the sounds of the city. As she came to her building, she let her eyes travel upwards, taking in the cubical metal structures.<i>Home sweet home</i>, she thought with a humorless smile, and stepped through the sliding doors.<br/><br/>Her footsteps became light, almost tentative as she entered, and she cast a careful look about the lobby. The only other soul there was an alien passed out asleep on one of the couches, smelling faintly of booze, and she stepped by him quietly as she beelined for the elevator. Maybe she could get to her rooms without running into dear old Garraus.