WfR177: RockTown

Amara took a pirate shuttle to the surface of an irregular asteroid, so shaped that the sunlight reflected from one hump onto a series of spacecraft-turned-cities buried in another. She sensed apprehension, respect, and awe ahead of her from the Skorosh Clan. Nothing indicated threat.

"Was that a Double Cyclone?" she asked the pilot, a yilk with a dull black beard. They approached a circular docking aperture larger than it appeared.

"Two, and a buncha other craft, Admiral," the man answered politely. "Poor records were kept of colony ship purchases after the War in the big rush - these are legitimate colonial buys. Or were."

"I don't think it matters much if you're already here," Amara said.

He yelped a baritone laugh. "We think alike, Admiral. Welcome to Rocktown, Skorosh." He settled the craft gently inside the bay as the large aperture irised closed.