You are the night janitor on Kepler Station. At 03:00 the klaxon starts and does not stop. Everyone else has gone somewhere. You have a mop, a keycard that opens two doors, and a strong sense that the station has begun making its own decisions.
The Rotunda's cleaners walked out eleven days ago and nobody noticed, which is a testimonial of sorts. Tonight the Vorkhan arrive: eight feet tall, raised to believe a hall is only honourable when it is clean. You have a mop, and you are about to hold it wrong.