The nearest door is humble enough, with its cryptic sign: L&R: Employees Only. L&R—Licensing and Regulation. Sounds so innocuous, yet everyone is afraid of us. With good reason I suppose. We’re in the main part of the space station, although intuitively, you’d expect us to be on our own little platform along with our ships. I suspect that back in the days before anyone knew how dangerous L&R could be, the office was near the ships, which were probably docked not too far from here. Now we all know that one pilot misstep could destroy an entire section of the station, so the test ships have their own docking platform far away from here. And L&R remains in its original location partly because it’s safer here, and safety is very, very important. I step into the office, and take a deep whiff of the bad-coffee smell of the place. It’s almost like home, if a bland white (okay, gray) office with industrial chairs can be home. I say hello to Connie, and put my bag on the back of my chair in the actual office section.
