Jinn's boot clunked on the ramp of the ship, the metal groaning slightly under his weight before making a resounding
*thud
on the firm ground below.
A chill breeze met him first, brushing past his already ragged clothes as he took in the sight before him.
The docking zone was massive—sprawling with activity as various ships of different sizes whirred and hovered, either preparing to take off or just having landed.
Smaller scout vessels zipped past overhead, leaving faint blue trails, while larger destroyer-class ships were being fueled and maintained by hovering cranes and worker drones.
Despite the chaotic movement, the entire place was meticulously organized.
Each ship had a designated place, each corridor of space reserved and guarded.
The hum of engines, the beeping of mechanical loaders, and the distant sound of metallic tools echoed across the docking area like a constant rhythm of industry.
