Sitting Down With Mister Station

This is one of the earliest parts of the story in terms of writing, but happens at around the mid-point of the narrative.
To be honest, that approach has turned out to be a huge pain in the arse, and is something I’m going to try to avoid in future, because not only will it need editing along with everything else, it’ll also need editing just to get integrated with everything else.
I’m putting it in here because this is sort of where it belongs, and so that I can continue to post the parts which come after it as I write them and type them up. I’m not doing that editing to integrate it at this time, because I want to finish the whole story, flaws and all, before going back to edit.

With Lumpy’s help they got everyone into the station; Some on the benches in the hall, some on the tables in the storerooms, the very ill on the worktops in the machine shop, and the rest out on the covered parts of the platform on whatever bedding they could find. The Wanderer was left on their railcart, out in the open, but covered by the inflated plastic tent with the big red symbol on it.
By the end Lumpy looked almost as bad as the Wanderer, all grey-faced and panting, and he half-fell into the last bed available, in Mister Station’s room.
“But where will you sleep?” Asked Luce as she fitted the port like Mister Station had showed them.
Mister Station laughed. “Oh, that’s mostly for show, or for somewhere to relax or think. I don’t actually sleep in it.”
They all wandered into the little kitchen off the office, and sat around the table while the kettle slowly boiled and the pharmacy printer whirred away. Cy idly poked a few more sticks into the stove, then asked. “Do you sleep in the workshop then? Because of your …” He gestured vaguely to Mister Station’s cables.
“Do you mean inside one of the machines?”
A nod from Cy. “I thought maybe, since you’re attached to them, …”
“No, nothing like that.” Mister Station laughed. “Uhh, how to explain?”
A weak voice drifted out of the doorway. “He’s trying not to say that he doesn’t sleep, kid.” Croaked Lumpy. “Probably hasn’t done since the war.”
With an irritated look, Mister Station turned towards the doorway. “Shouldn’t you be unconscious and resting? Or at least conserving your strength by not evesdropping?”
“Oh, I’m fading pretty fast here.” Lumpy called back. “That booster shot you gave me did the job, but the aftereffects are already kicking the shit out of me.”
He coughed for a moment, then continued.
“But you know what needs to happen now, and there’s almost nobody left who can do it, so they need to know some shit.”
With that, Mister Station slumped a bit, and sat heavily into his chair. After a moment, he spoke.
“You’re right, Mister Langton. Annoyingly so. Now please rest and get well; I’ll tell them what they need to know.
“I’ll tell them everything.”