According to the information brief, that was where the refined material was pushed out from the refinery and into the collecting freighters. They’d then take it off to designated stations, which would turn them into compound materials and send them off to shipping stations dotted around the system.
“Looks like paradise to me. Showers, beds and less recycled air,” Bobbie groaned and made his eye twitch.
“Yu, I think I need a replacement Cargo Master, this one’s broken!” Mark complained. Eying the clusters of antennae’s docks, and parts of the station.
“Dick,” Bobbie said, laughing.
“What, you two… shit!” Yu halted as he turned to face the cargo hold. “We’re less than a few hours away!” He said, getting excited cheers to ‘About fucking time’ and “I swear I should have gone on the direct flight,”
“Oh shut up Dashtund,” Tyler sighed.
“Yes boss, right away boss, shutting up boss!”
“Yu you, fuck that sounds weird as shit,” Mark said.
“Get it more times than you’d ever want to dream of,” Yu said.
“Sorry dude, but you want to take the stick?” Mark asked, indicating his seat.
“Nah, nothing like doing it for real. You’ve done tens of landings, you didn’t even crash on the last three,” Yu said.
“Thanks, really helping my confidence here,” Mark sighed, resigned to his seat.
He corrected the flight plan as the refinery called to the craft, and Moretti took the message, talking to the crew. Ten minutes later and Mark’s flight plan adjusted to put him on the correct offloading platform.
Mark took deep breaths as he got closer, remembering to focus on the screens instead of relying on his eyes. Numbers and schematics were his friend; his eyes could misjudge things badly at the speeds he was travelling.
He input a burn rate on the shuttle’s thrusters, bringing their speed down.
The burn rate went up, the main engines firing heavily when they were twenty feet above the offloading platform. Mark adjusted to meet the refinery’s motion, then it was simply using thrusters above the craft to push it down onto the offloading platform.
He got down, letting out his breath in a rush, and the landing crew came out, securing the freighter to the deck. Another man came to the door and a flurry of robots moved to the rear of the freighter.
“I’ll handle the stuff,” Moretti said, grabbing his helmet and jumping into the cargo hold.
“Good job Mark,” Yu said, slapping Mark’s shoulder.
“Thanks.” Mark slumped into the pilot’s seat.
“Helmets on!” Yu called out to everyone. Moretti was using the airlock, but if the robots were coming in to offload the metals then they’d have to flush the cargo bay.
Mark grabbed his crappy civvie helmet and connected it to his equally crappy space suit.
“Alright, looks like we’re probably going to get screwed for this haul because we don’t have any tokens, their version of creds. Though with the load we’ve got, we’ll have plenty of spending money. I’ve got a lead on a hotel and real food,” Moretti said. “Let’s get this stuff unloaded; I need two people to stay back with the gear and make sure everything goes smoothly.”
“I’ll stay,” Mark said.
“I’m the cargo master of this tub, so I’ll stay back.”
“Thank you gents, the rest of you are with me. If this thing isn’t unloaded in an hour we’ll send someone else out here to swap out,” Haas said. “Grab your gear bags and follow me.” Haas led the charge out of the airlock, the rear hatch to the freighter opening as robots started coming in and grabbing the containers holding barely processed compacted metals.
“I’m going to have a talk with the foreman, wanna come?” Bobbie asked.
“Sure,” Mark said, happy to stretch his legs.
The foreman watched her surface with interest. She looked up as Bobbie and Mark approached; she was a good-looking curvy woman, with blonde and brunette hair.
“That platinum?” She
“Looks like paradise to me. Showers, beds and less recycled air,” Bobbie groaned and made his eye twitch.
“Yu, I think I need a replacement Cargo Master, this one’s broken!” Mark complained. Eying the clusters of antennae’s docks, and parts of the station.
“Dick,” Bobbie said, laughing.
“What, you two… shit!” Yu halted as he turned to face the cargo hold. “We’re less than a few hours away!” He said, getting excited cheers to ‘About fucking time’ and “I swear I should have gone on the direct flight,”
“Oh shut up Dashtund,” Tyler sighed.
“Yes boss, right away boss, shutting up boss!”
“Yu you, fuck that sounds weird as shit,” Mark said.
“Get it more times than you’d ever want to dream of,” Yu said.
“Sorry dude, but you want to take the stick?” Mark asked, indicating his seat.
“Nah, nothing like doing it for real. You’ve done tens of landings, you didn’t even crash on the last three,” Yu said.
“Thanks, really helping my confidence here,” Mark sighed, resigned to his seat.
He corrected the flight plan as the refinery called to the craft, and Moretti took the message, talking to the crew. Ten minutes later and Mark’s flight plan adjusted to put him on the correct offloading platform.
Mark took deep breaths as he got closer, remembering to focus on the screens instead of relying on his eyes. Numbers and schematics were his friend; his eyes could misjudge things badly at the speeds he was travelling.
He input a burn rate on the shuttle’s thrusters, bringing their speed down.
The burn rate went up, the main engines firing heavily when they were twenty feet above the offloading platform. Mark adjusted to meet the refinery’s motion, then it was simply using thrusters above the craft to push it down onto the offloading platform.
He got down, letting out his breath in a rush, and the landing crew came out, securing the freighter to the deck. Another man came to the door and a flurry of robots moved to the rear of the freighter.
“I’ll handle the stuff,” Moretti said, grabbing his helmet and jumping into the cargo hold.
“Good job Mark,” Yu said, slapping Mark’s shoulder.
“Thanks.” Mark slumped into the pilot’s seat.
“Helmets on!” Yu called out to everyone. Moretti was using the airlock, but if the robots were coming in to offload the metals then they’d have to flush the cargo bay.
Mark grabbed his crappy civvie helmet and connected it to his equally crappy space suit.
“Alright, looks like we’re probably going to get screwed for this haul because we don’t have any tokens, their version of creds. Though with the load we’ve got, we’ll have plenty of spending money. I’ve got a lead on a hotel and real food,” Moretti said. “Let’s get this stuff unloaded; I need two people to stay back with the gear and make sure everything goes smoothly.”
“I’ll stay,” Mark said.
“I’m the cargo master of this tub, so I’ll stay back.”
“Thank you gents, the rest of you are with me. If this thing isn’t unloaded in an hour we’ll send someone else out here to swap out,” Haas said. “Grab your gear bags and follow me.” Haas led the charge out of the airlock, the rear hatch to the freighter opening as robots started coming in and grabbing the containers holding barely processed compacted metals.
“I’m going to have a talk with the foreman, wanna come?” Bobbie asked.
“Sure,” Mark said, happy to stretch his legs.
The foreman watched her surface with interest. She looked up as Bobbie and Mark approached; she was a good-looking curvy woman, with blonde and brunette hair.
“That platinum?” She
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