Driftmark Station [II]

Driftmark hit them like a physical wave.

The air reached Elena first… It was warm and faintly humid as it carried a heavy metallic tang that tasted of hot iron filings, sulfurous smelter runoff and cheap hydraulic grease, threaded through with a spicy organic musk like scorched pepper and fermented algae.

Then came the noise.

It was deafening. 

The habitat ring was a vast hollow cylinder of corrugated grey titanium and rough-hewn basalt, and it echoed with the endless multi-ton rumble of refinery centrifuges, the thud of ore compactors, the sharp hiss of plasma cutters and the chaotic overlapping babble of a thousand voices speaking in clicks, grunts, melodic chimes and the squawk of digital translators.

The gravity was a touch lighter than Earth's, and it put a strange buoyant spring into Elena's calves that made her place every step with exaggerated care so she wouldn't look clumsy.