"Get that crate out," Scott roared. "Hurry. Hurry!"
"Mister Jerill," blared the intercom. "You are under arrest, according to the Articles of Space, for conspiracy, armed assault...." Scott cut the voice off in mid-sentence. He leaped into the hold, threw his weight behind the box. "Quick. Get it to the pit."
The men lumbered off into the darkness. Even with the light gravity of the asteroid, it was difficult to handle the crate as the scrambling cats pitched it from side to side.
Scott scaled a boulder. The hulk of the Kastil loomed just beyond, dark and threatening. A thin square of light showed at their cargo entrance. They were still completing loading.
"Hurry," Scott muttered feverishly. "Hurry."
The men reached the pit. Carefully, slowly, they lowered the crate into the shadows.
Sweat streaming down his face, Scott tore his eyes from the Kastil hatch, grimly watched as his men scooped rubbish into the pit.
A motion in the darkness. Out where no motion should be. Movement among the sunless stones.
Scott's breathing stopped.
A group of men closing in toward the cargo jet. Men racing out of the shadows. Men of the Kastil.