As the gravity well steepened, the distance shrunk until it was more effective to burn under conventional drive. The ship cut an arc across the gravity well just outside the orbit of the third planet. The dusty gray ball was like a weather beaten toy. The destination was a small transfer station on the outbound vector. The station contained supplies that any respectable asteroid harvester or transiting starship could use. Ice. Fuel. Spare Parts. Datacores of entertainment. Drugs and alcohol. The station had a contract to supply Naval vessels but no garrison force. “Mr. Grace, hail the station, see which berth is open.” Captain Khan shifted in her chair. William leaned forward towards the console and keyed himself into the station comm channel. A dull static hissed back with an automated message. A high pitched voice stated services, inventory, and a satisfaction guarantee. It paused and continued in Japanese. “Transfer station, this is the UC ship Malta.” He listened and heard the same reply.
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