Chapter 16

At zero-dark-thirty, they arrived at the spaceport and made their way to the private hangers at the far end. The walk wasn't a long one, but it gave Kat ample time to notice that Bob's limp was gone and that he was moving around easily, smoothly. She cocked an eyebrow at Bob, and then nodded to his leg. "Feeling better?"

Bob, looking a little sheepish, lifted his pants leg and showed her a very slick, expensive looking prosthesis. "Thing cost a fortune and upkeep is enough to make your bank account wince. I don't tend to use it 'cept for important things. Figured this qualified."

"Now that you got your good feet on" Kat said, with a straight face, "You ready to dance?"

Bob scowled at her, then assumed a superior aire and, with a good natured twinkle in his eye, growled at her. "I was dancing before you were a twinkle in your daddy's eye, girlie, and don't you forget it!"

At first glance, the ship was, to put it charitably, a wreck. The protective coating that had once covered the skin had been scrubbed off by decades of atmospheric landings. The hull was dented, creased and hardly looked capable of holding air, much less holding together through the stresses of a launch from a gravity well.

Bob, sensing her hesitation, touched her elbow.

"I've known the owner for 35 years. I'd bet my remaining leg that she's a lot better on the inside."

Bob's words turned out to be prophetic. The inside of the small ship was as clean and well-ordered as a hospital operating theater. It was as if the outer shell were a disguise, held in place by spacer's tape and ready to be jettisoned when the need arose. Kat wasn't far wrong.

The ship's exterior was a disguise. A carefully crafted misdirection that was bolstered by several specialized systems in her electronics suite. Pirates, and Union military for that matter, were less likely to take an interest in an near-derelict ship that was limping along. To enhance that image, the captain had installed an interrupter circuit on his drive output. It would give the impression that the drive was poorly adjusted and on the edge of shutting down completely. There was a similar device on the shields that protected the ship from micrometeorites and debris. A ship's shield unit frequency and calibration was set at the factory. Knowing what frequency was emitted by a specific unit, especially when combined with the drive signature, can be used to identify a specific ship at great distances.

The liftoff was rough, intentionally so to preserve the illusion, but once the ship was out of sensor range of the planetary net, the ride smoothed out and they were able to travel at a speed that would have shocked many an observer.

Aste had only a rudimentary sensor net, easily spoofed, and their entry into the atmosphere was so smooth that Kat didn't realize it was under way until the ship started maneuvering to follow the terrain. Keeping a mountain between the ship and the port as long as possible and flying nap of the earth, they used terrain features to hide the signature of the ship and crept in to within five kilometers from the spaceport.

Disembarking was done through a lowered cargo hatch. Bob had procured a small, six wheeled all-terrain vehicle that the miners called a mule. It was identical to the units used as local transportation, delivery and maintenance vehicles on Aste, even down to the marking and serial numbers. It would comfortably seat six men with room for a metric ton of cargo in the bed behind the seats. In a pinch, and sans cargo, it could easily handle twelve to fifteen people and still travel over smooth ground at a teeth rattling 40kph for two days on a single charge. Heavy loads or more difficult terrain changed that operating range, but it was a capable vehicle for an undeveloped world.

The mule was already loaded, their gear packed into crates disguised as mine tailing samples, something no miner would show any interest in. Tailings were the scraps left over from mining operations and were often reviewed by the engineers and chemists to gauge effectiveness of the extraction process. Each of the men carried at least one concealed handgun while Kat carried two small, light weight handguns of a newer design. These weapons fired flechettes, small aerodynamic needles of hardened metal, and were deadly in the right hands. Her hands. The flechettes came in several different varieties; from narco-darts to frangible rounds used on ships and even explosive darts that would take a limb off of a grown man.

There were heavier weapons packed into the crates in the back. Roberts, the former Marine, had packed a half dozen sub-compact machine pistols, a pair of scoped, long-range rifles, a small caliber machine gun that would spit out 3000 rounds per minute and even some plastique explosives. If this trip failed, it wasn't going to be because they were out-gunned on the ground.

The night was cooler than Kat expected, this being the equatorial zone. The sky was mostly clear, the lack of lights and pollution allowing an amazing number of stars to shine through the atmosphere. The vehicle had six motors, one in each wheel, and the loudest noise was the crunching sound as it ground broken branches and fallen leaves under the balloon tires. There was a constant buzz from the local flying insect equivalents, but since the travelers' body chemistry was different than the fliers were used to, they would continue on their way, seeking more palatable prey. If they had not been heading into danger, Kat thought she would have enjoyed the quiet ride through the countryside.

The starship port was visible long before they say any signs of habitation. The glow from the port lights, and the surrounding town, created a dome of light that outlined the distant hills. As they travelled the final kilometer, they began to smell the port even before they heard any activity. The distinctive ozone smell of the hydrogen catalyzing inner-system drives was all the more noticeable since it was the only familiar scent in an alien forest.

Topping the final terrain feature between the ship and the port city, they stopped just over the military crest of the hill and observed the town. The military crest, that position just below the actual crest where one would be silhouetted against the skyline, provided them with a dark background against which their tan-colored mule and their dark clothes would be indistinguishable from the hill.

Even well after 2400 local, the town and port were abuzz with activity. Ore haulers were landed with almost military precision in rows alongside the larger launch pads. Robotic ore loaders were transferring raw ore from the carriers to the larger freight haulers for shipment back to processing plants on Chance or LeTon, depending on the firm that owned the ship. Maintenance vehicles, fuelers, personnel carriers and a myriad other vehicles crawled over the spaceport like ants.

The town itself was a sprawling, poorly planned jumble of buildings. From the plascrete of the official buildings to shanties built from local woods, the town was a haphazard affair that was growing organically instead of by plan. Other than two main streets, paved and lighted, the rest of the town was a warren of smaller dirt roads and alleys. The town itself was fairly quiet. The majority of the activity seemed to be centered on the headquarters for the two consortiums and around a section of the town that was obviously what passed for the entertainment sector.

Raising a set of light enhancing binoculars, Kat dialed up the magnification and began scanning the port, hoping to see the tail number for the shuttle that had brought Pan to Aste. While she observed the port, the team unloaded the Mule and started laying out a camp. Working silently, but quickly, they erected shelters and began moving off through the woods. They were back quickly, each with a local plant they had unearthed, roots and all, and proceeded to plant around the perimeter of the camp.

The plants would provide a natural camouflage for the group, one that would not have to be renewed daily to stay fresh. This was important since they might be here a while. Bob would accompany her to town, but the rest would stay here, monitoring an assigned frequency and ready to ride in should the situation arise. The plan was for the ship to lift before daylight and to hide in orbit by spoofing one of the sensor satellites and snugging the ship in close, in its blind spot. The ship could be on planet again in less than an hour, she was assured.