Elouise,
In order to accommodate your passenger, I will need to make some minor repairs to my cargo pod and ready it for personal use. Currently, it is full of rather expensive survey equipment that I will either need to return for or have shipped. I will not need more than a single tube of butalyne nitrile hull patch and an hour or so to perform the repairs. Please inform the passenger that gravity will not be available, and to bring a book. As for my fuel needs, please do have thirty liters of elemental deuterium in liquid form ready to be pumped into my fuel cells and we will have the matter sorted by the end of the day.
Thorn looked at the screen uncomfortably. She didn't usually take passengers, merely because her ship was ludicrously tiny and could barely fit her comfortably. Nonetheless, Bulwark station was coming into view as her hyperspace fold collapsed and ruptured like some relativistic zit with the force of a billion ruined prom nights.
Setting her ship to automatically adjust course to dock, she put on her EVA helmet and popped the hatch, letting the air flow free into space. A quick tether job and she crawled around the outside of her hull to open the cargo pod and check over the foam packed crates. A look over her shoulder and she stood up on the nacelle opposite her door. She stepped once to turn with canopy open and her orange and white suit almost lit from within against the darkness of space around her. A quick movement of her foot closed the cargo pod, the ship gently coasting in to a waiting null grav hangar space.
Thorn was not surprised to clip her helmet's forehead as the lip of the floor passed beneath her and she almost slipped off. "This, folks, is why we wear teathers. Still, four foot three and still whangin' my head on shit."