Used to strutting around the Downport like she owned it, Katie found that without her uniform she felt much less at home in the crowds.  Normally she'd have shot the passing crew of rowdy space truckers a smouldering glance on her way past -<em>eat your heart out, boys</em>- but today, wearing jeans, boots and a leather jacket, she felt flustered when one of them checked her out.  It was like she'd lost some of her power somehow.  Seeing her old liner's name on the departing-without-you-board just made it worse.  By the time she reached the Guild office she had half convinced herself that they'd kick her straight out.<br/><br/>To her great relief nobody challenged her entry.  Avoiding eye contact with everybody, she slid straight into one of the computer booths, and tapped her membership details into the login screen.<br/><br/><strong>Welcome user COSMICA-LOGANKJ.  It has been 1,387 days since your last visit.  You have 12,086 unread messages...</strong><br/><br/>Unsure exactly how long her Guild membership would last now she was unemployed, Katie worked as fast as she could, scanning the Crew Wanted ads for somebody who looked like they'd hire a stewie without being too interested in the story of her<em>incredibly</em>unfair dismissal.  She sneaked a few surreptitious glances at the other screens in use, as well, just in case she was doing it wrong.<br/><br/>(Sneaky glance at the woman's screen - 10)<br/>(Sneaky glance at the guy's screen - 2.  Oops!  Lucky he's not a grizzled old badass!)