Rose’s hand stroked his cheek. “Ohhh, Penn. This well-fed English…
Look out, fool!”
Penn leaped to his left and crashed into the wall that surrounded the spaceport.
The kid on a high-seat grav cycle threw the back of his tattooed fist up in the air, in a gesture of contempt. He kept the contraption wobbling towards the portal to the village, that supplied the docked ships. The pungent odor of space lizard meat drifted behind him. Stained and cracked stasis units rocked back and forth.
Penn picked up a circular lid that had fallen off one of the units. “Hey, kid. Catch!” The Star Trader threw it with a spinning motion, and the kid caught it, legs still pumping.