The transitional area between the wings of the pilot’s floor was slightly wider than the hallway, but the length made it seem much narrower. Shooting down the center was what looked like a sidewalk, only in motion. An escalator laid flat, split into one path moving forward, and another moving back, towards her. As she stepped on, it carried her dutifully forth at a modest but steady pace, but a few exploratory steps would show her she could walk just fine to speed things along if she wished. 

On either side were windows into a few of the inner-walled rooms, some shuttered, some open. The gym was decently sized, and filled with a variety of machines and free-weights, not too dissimilar to the Aerie’s setup, if a bit more expansive. One of the talent suites was partially shuttered, but she could make out what looked like a messy art studio through the slats. 

The trip was, like the rest of the floor, rather quiet. Waiting for her at the end was another door, unlabeled, but when she walked through it became immediately clear that this was the recreational space Toussaint had mentioned. 

Massive, at least two-thirds of the wing. The room was a giant half-circle of open space, with its farthest curving wall paneled with a brighter, off-white color, like cream or eggshells. A window easily three times the length of the ones on the other wing sat in the center, facing out into space, and with so much width it was easier to see that the station was set into a gentle rotation, and before long, Illun would come into view below.

Scattered throughout the space were a variety of miniature activity ecosystems. Furthest was a decently-sized boxing ring, followed by what appeared to be an electronically-regulated fencing piste. Further down there was a flood of plastic mats laid out on the ground, upon which was an expanded easel holding a long banner-canvas. The painting was mostly finished, depicting what appeared to be an old royal court, with the king at the center, surrounded on either side by a row of knights and nobles all vying for his attention, all with one hand behind their backs, clutching knives or daggers. It seemed the last section on either side was yet to be completed. Furthest to her right, flush against the wall, was what looked like a theater stage. There were props scattered on its floor, swords and cloaks and a gleaming silver goblet. 

Finally, behind it all, closer to the window, was something akin to gymnastic gauntlet, but what might have been more accurately described as an obstacle course. Raised platforms over padded floors, elevated strips meant to be crossed on grip strength alone, segmented balance beams that would have to be leapt across, and more still. It ran the entire length of the room, and could hardly be seen from one end to the other. It seemed designed to test every aspect of a runner’s balance and technique, and of all the things present here, it also seemed to be the oldest.