Homeward Bound

[Y'berg]

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The day at California Minor's main ports was busy as ever. Dozens of ships landed every single minute of the day, from the smallest aeroshuttles, to gigantic transports whose shadow black out the sky.

Among them flew a completely ordinary Kestrel, perhaps too ordinary if one asked a paranoid man. But the only thing suspicious about this ship was the landing: A fast, sharp counterclockwise downward spiral, one that was more often seen from dropships landing under heavy fire, than from ordinary freighters at a civilian port.

After this little parade (earning only a few disapproving looks from the dockworkers present) the airlock opened, and a rather young woman walked out. She lighted up a cigarette, while waited for her guest of honor.

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