The ramp held a freighter with a space-pocked, time-battered hull that hid a high-capacity neutron drive capable of powering a Grade IX cruiser.
Ross boarded the ship in bleak silence, with questions neither asked nor answered on either side. Pausing at the galley, he gulped food till he could hold no more, then slumped down in a bunk to sleep out the trip in a state of something close to complete exhaustion.
And then, seemingly in seconds or minutes rather than hours, the craft was ramping again, dropping down amid the cliffs and crags and craters of a bleak asteroidal landscape.
Still blinking the sleep from his eyes, Ross stumbled through a cargo-shaft, into a vast, cave-concealed shelter.
There were corridors, after that, and shaft-lifts; and, finally, a long, narrow, cell-like room with a barred door.
The two men who'd guided Ross shoved him in; slammed shut the self-locking door behind him.
Grim-faced, Ross turned.
"Thigpen!" Veta Hall ran towards him, out of the shadows at the far end of the room. Gladness rang in her voice; shone from her face. "You came! You came!"
"Did I have a choice?" Ross' smile held little mirth. "I got you into this, Veta; trussed you up in a sack like a pigeon for Cheng to grab. The least I can do is try to get you out."