At first, Senjen had just occupied himself dealing with their cargo. There were plenty of crates to get out into the loading zone, and between the two of them, he was the one more suited to manual labor. Or at least...he assumed so. Senjen had been reading up as much as possible on the QV, Korit, and pretty much anything else he could think of when he decided to take the plunge and head out into space. Still, it felt like he had only scratched the surface. These gel suits the QV used were such a strange way to get around, but he supposed it made much more sense than normal environment suits for an aquatic species. He was only guessing, granted, but just by watching Light, it looked like the suit let him swim around in a way that would feel natural for him. That was something he could understand, at least. Utaysi were software; they could inhabit frames constructed in any imaginable configuration, if they wanted. But, when it came to day-to-day life, most Utaysi still wanted a body that was familiar to their ingrained instincts. Senjen himself was not so strict on that matter, but he still understood it. 

In any case, Senjen was quick to get the cargo ready for unloading. The cargo hold doubled as an airlock on this ship, and it took just a few moments to depressurize before opening. He obviously had no need for a suit to step into the vacuum of space, and the sensation of it was quite unlike anything else. His frame’s outer plating was equipped to experience sensations, to feel through similar microsensors as an organic’s surface receptors, but unlike him, it was dangerous for them to expose their skin to pure nothingness. Senjen had spent most of his life so far on his homeworld, so walking out into a vacuum was still new to him. He was not sure he would be able to put into words what it was like to feel absolutely nothing, all over. The feeling of air was so easy to ignore, until it was gone.

Senjen was starting to feel nervous, though luckily it was easy for him to avoid showing it. He couldn’t stop the natural reactions in his mind, but it was as easy as changing a setting to prevent his body from acting on them. He could be as stoic as he needed to be. He had done enough research ahead of time to know what he should expect in this process, in theory. Now he just needed to act natural. 

A customs declaration, standard procedure, nothing unusual. Senjen accepted the incoming request, which brought up a prompt in the corner of his field of view. As was “encouraged” by the docking authority, he had already prepared the customs declaration ahead of time, so it was just a matter of attaching the file and confirming payment for the docking fee. It contained their statement on the reason for their visit, any goods for import and their destination, their point of origin, identification, and declarations of certain possessions like the sidearm Senjen carried in his frame. 

The Tekeri was quick to skim through the most important bullet points of their documentation. Efficiency was what mattered to business on Korit, so customs was trained to know what to look for, and what to leave for inspection later down the line to get their cargo moving quickly. From Senjen’s understanding, Korit customs were particularly efficient, especially since they had much less they had to care [i]about[/i]. Still, the Tekeri did have something to say as he reached the end of the document, directing his attention to Light, rather than Senjen. “Armed synthetics require separate declaration and registration with the port authority, there’s a form you need to-”

The Tekeri was suddenly cut off, leaving them with empty comms and the dead silence of space. The Human nearby carried a scanner, and she had already been going over Senjen and Light with it as they spoke. She and the Tekeri looked to one another, likely speaking in a private channel, before the Tekeri turned back and approved their customs declaration. “Apologies, Utaysi are still uncommon travelers. Your declaration is in order, I just need you to confirm you understand and accept this agreement on the rules and regulations of weapon possession on the station.” 

Another prompt appeared for Senjen, this time linking to a verbose agreement written as obtusely as possible in legalese, to which he just scrolled through to accept. No one ever read those things.

 Now they just needed to wait for the Human to scan their cargo to make sure it matched the declaration, and answer any other questions they might have about it. Unless Light had any surprises he did not know about, they would mostly just find some trade goods, most prominent of which were canisters of a particular enzyme produced by some extremophile bacteria on an undeveloped world. It was heavily restricted in most systems due to its potential use in the production of some rather potent drugs, but not on Korit. Here, it was legally treated as any other import, and made for a good decoy for any attention. 

Unfortunately, the decoy cargo belonged to their employer, so they would not see a bit of the profit from its sale. Their money would come from delivering the data, and for that, Senjen felt he understood why he had been hired. Simple robots were property that might be inspected, but plenty of worlds like Korit were eager to start doing business with the galaxy’s newest arrivals. It was not nearly so acceptable to try to root through a person’s mind, so he was afforded more privacy in his own head, as long as they did not give them a reason to do anything more.