Take the scenic route...

You purposely lose altitude so that things on the ground come into focus; nose up, and engines roaring, you cast an eyeball out your windows while making the approach into the starport. Local landmarks seem easy to recognize and set in relation to one another... following the coast, you are seeing lots of private little islands out to sea, lots of lush looking green jungle inland, and a thin line of white sand continuing between the two.

In all those holo-dramas where 'tropical' is the theme it ends up looking like this planet. Even though it's low flying you feel confident enough to multitask and check the local 'Welcome Spacer' data pack that came with your docking bay assignment.

It marks the major approach lanes, no-fly, but also a series of holiday options that would appeal to the weary star-hopper. You tell your Astro-droid to play local tourist information as you fly over a place, it beeps that it will.

Flying out to sea, over white capped waves the voice attachment sell the 'best places to surf' but further on the story changes. By a sprawled collection of floating water going space transports, bobbing submersible shuttles, fancy air to space super-yachts, and rustic sailing boats you are told of a 'never ending party' that is happily referred to as the 'fuck fleet'. There are people scampering over the top of these ships in various states of undress. Waves come from the people below as you fly over, and a couple of flashed body parts. Some bits are recognizable on some individuals, others you couldn't identify even if you flew by again- upside down- to try and make sense of it.

Turning back to land, after wishing you'd fitted floats to your fighter, you head for the waterfront. It's a built-up shoreline: there are hotels and spires, clubs and shopping. Craning your neck out to take in wide, leafy boulevards, you bank and see it's filled with only foot traffic close to the water... further through the city this is mixed in with swoops, riding animals, and light rail until; after darting over low rises and around terraced gardens and malls the scenery climbs a hill- to huge mansions and palatial homes branching off thin winding roads. The wealth in this area is unashamedly displayed, resulting in jealous pangs.

You turn back after rattling the home windows of the rich and power towards the starport; identify and home in on your docking bay; spiral tightly down to the circular opening in the roof you'll land through; deploy landing gear, cut thrusters, and move to repulsors; setting down with a whining though gentle drop.

Your Astro-droid whistles that the Docking Bay droid-in-charge has requested to hook up a fuel line. You pop the canopy and tell your Astro to take 'care of it all'. Free of harnesses and losing your helmet you trade bottled Y-wing oxygen for your first breath on planet...

It's warm and a bit humid here- the sun doesn't burn, it brightens- and the air smells sweet. That might be natural, or it might be fuel fumes. The sky looks a wonderful shade of blue, you hop down to retrieve your spacer's duffel...