"Good enough," returned Hartnett. "We'll see when we near Station 9." He looked over at Blake. "Do you think you can land a skeeter there and take off three passengers without arousing the Cats?"
"A skeeter is only meant for three people, sir, and four would be quite an overload," protested Blake.
"It will have to be done. If we try to land a ship there, every Cat in the quadrant will be on our necks. It's either the skeeter, or ..." he shrugged expressively.
"If we strip the boat down and remove all unnecessary mass it should do," suggested Orsov. "What do you think, Blake?"
Blake gulped. To strip the skeeter would mean removing all armor and guns. "I ... uh...." He squared his shoulders and grinned sheepishly. "It would," he declared finally.
"Good," said the Commodore.
"Just where is this Station 9, sir?" asked Morse.
Hartnett ignored the question, but by way of answer, he turned to his Flotilla Astrogator, Thorne and asked: "Do you remember the analysis of Oberon's surface, Thorne?"
"Vaguely. All four of the Uranian satellites are composed mainly of pitchblende and similar ores. Heavy metals. Very dense. I happen to remember because it's one of the coincidences of astronomy that the planet itself was given the name Uranus before the discovery that the whole of its system was lousy with uranium ores."
"What else can you tell us about it?"