Hobbling down the Antonia’s ramp, Penn’s eyes widened in the early morning darkness. His leg wrapped in a force field that protected the burns he’d gotten in the exit fight on Sirius station.
Lights glowed on an empty landing pad on the edge of the port. The outer system nomads had arrived. Molting season for Phobian system space lizards had just ended, and their shed hides would auction within the hour.
The Star Trader had promised Reginald that he wouldn’t get hurt helping Penn escape. It was time to get the man material for a new suit. It was the least he could do.