Thornton was... not feeling quite well. They'd touched down just fine, but he found himself a little queasy and his clothes just a bit wrinkled. So once he had surrendered his ticket and made his way in to the centre, he could not entertain at all the thought of any activity, at all.

So to the cafeteria it was, for a ginger ale to settle his stomach.

He looked around, hoping to spy someone also headed in that direction, unwilling to break Flamsteed's rule about sticking with a buddy. Trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt with the palm of his hand, Thornton swallowed hard and scanned the rapidly dispersing group.