// Bastion, Dubrillion //
// Public Transit Area //
"Never taking bloody commercial shuttles cross-system again."
Cigarette smoke twirled and danced, the hushed rush of air expelled from cracked lips as another drag was taken. "We give... we take..." Ras grumbled to himself, still rolling around the idea of the Rebel Alliance in his mind. It was work, and after some initial skepticism, he humored the thought of even liking it. But the ties that bind were certainly, deeply embedded into Ras' very being.
The First Order.
All the discipline and motive, all the drive for the soul to flourish and grow was earned there. Without it, he wouldn't amount to much - more than likely he'd be dead. Still a hollow feeling gnawed at his insides like a buzzard over carrion. Each day a new reason had to be found to reassure himself that this life was still worth something. That these people meant anything. A cheerful voice chimed in over an automated PA system, listing departure times and incoming arrivals.
But that didn't matter right now. Feelings didn't mean anything here, only progress. There was a mission to be completed.
Dressed down in darker colors while keeping a casual enough appearance, Ras flicked his cigarette to the side. His right hand pushing his medium-length hair back, as to look somewhat typical. Giving a look over his shoulder, he observed his surroundings, almost as if he were looking for someone in particular. The chatter of citizens generated an abrasive white noise, conversations roaring over one another in sudden spikes of volume.
Irritating enough to say the least. Still idle, Ras kept his composure, reaching into his black leather jacket for another smoke.
Only a sigh escaped the ex Imperial amidst the cacophony of socialites and civilization. Lighting the cigarette and taking a slow, long drag.
"They should be here soon.."
The clock was ticking.