Gaylen and Kiris stashed their pistols. Jaquan took out one of his tool belts and put it on, then attached a few tools to it, most notably a long, heavy wrench. Gaylen already had his folding knife, as he usually did, but he also took out a pair of fighting gloves. They had been a good purchase: The fibres struck a fine balance between protection and allowing dexterity. Kiris selected a utility knife that just happened to have a custom grip with improved traction, and a razor-sharp edge. She also took a collapsible cane that was fancy-looking enough to pass for a showy accessory, when in fact it was weighted for cracking heads.

But there was more to spending an unknown amount of time on a fairly rowdy planet. Gaylen went through the little pockets on the inside of his green coat, making doubly sure that the pills, hazardous material detector, nutrition bars, flashlight and other little precautions were in their place. But that wasn’t all.

“This place has a bit of a toxin problem,” Gaylen told them. “From the bad old days. The main areas of the cities should be fine, but let’s bring filters. Just in case.”

They each took one of the semi-folded plastic rings. Gaylen fitted his against the front half of his head, made sure everything was properly sealed, checked the filter readout, then took it off and stuck it into a pocket.

“I think I’m good,” Jaquan said, after clipping a bag to his belt.

“Same here,” Kiris said.

“Then let’s not waste time.”

They went back to the cargo hold, where the other two were waiting for them.

“Let’s keep the ramp closed for now,” Gaylen said. “I’ll radio in if there’s any news. You two do the same if the dockworkers contact you.”

“Sure,” Herdis replied.

“If they insist on a face-to-face conversation, you handle the talking, Herdis,” Gaylen said. “Bers… just stand nearby and look scary.”

The Fringer grinned, and did one of his low, closed-mouth chuckles.

“And do you remember all the details of the rad-shield trick?” Gaylen asked her.

“We did practise it,” she assured him, but Gaylen saw a hint of reluctance. “Are you planning to maybe put it to use?”

“Planning to? Oh, you know me better than that by now, surely.”

“I know that that whole business around Uktena Station went a bit beyond what I signed up for,” the woman reminded him.

“Shall I ask Kiris how serious you’re being?” Gaylen retorted. “Because I recall you signing up for adventure.”

The woman struck a jokingly sassy pose.

“You two can whisper my name in each other’s ears all you want, if that’s what does it for you.”

“Hah!” barked Bers.

“I just like to be prepared, that’s all,” Gaylen. “I survived through luck early in my career long enough to get smart. Since then, I try not to tap that resource too much.”

“I know, I know,” Herdis said. “Just behave yourselves, you three.”

“We’ll try,” Kiris said.

Gaylen smiled at it all, then led his little group out of the ship.

The wider docking yard was set up like so many of its ilk all through the lanes. The only real distinction came from the low traffic caused by the freeze, and the walls. Due to being built down into the ground, like almost everything on Jubba-Tar, much of the walls was bare rock. It was worn smooth, but not in any even, aesthetic fashion, so the whole space must have been open to the sky before the ceiling was installed, scratched for however long by the surface storms.

The tram station was set up before a dark, rocky tunnel that led out of the yard and towards the city. The cars were fully sealed against the outside, which he could appreciate, given both the velocity and the fact that the tunnel actually opened to the outside in places.

“Wow, this place really is a mess,” Jaquan said, gazing to the right along with the rest of them.

“The southern hemisphere, yes,” Gaylen replied. “The northern one is a lot better. Well, good enough for plants and oxygen.

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The surface of circa half of Jubba-Tar was a blasted wasteland, ravaged by dust storms. They were a near-constant state of affairs, from what Gaylen understood, the result of centuries-old devastation that the weather patterns had yet to heal from. The winds were actually relatively mild today, allowing an actual view for those brief moments when the tram passed by or through an opening. A few ruins stood out of the ever-shifting sands, though cleverly hidden among cliffs, so it could be hard to tell which was which.

The journey was at a slow but constant downward slope, so in time the openings were left behind and they were travelling fully underground. Gaylen just sat back. He generally found that silence was a perfectly acceptable state of affairs between friends.

Only a few more minutes later they exited into Undercity Greiko. He’d visited a couple of her siblings before, but Greiko made for a more impressive sight, and the view held his attention as the tram slowed down and drifted to an end station.

The place had been a mighty canyon once, and clearly a natural one. After the devastation, the locals who had not fled to the northern hemisphere, or had been repelled by those already there, had gone down into caves and canyons, and built roofs over the latter.

The tram station was near the very top of it, allowing the three of them to really take in the city. It had been built in the sharply sloping walls of the canyon, with streets either dug into the rock, or laid out on platforms. The city was essentially a descending series of rings, or half-rings, broken in places by either poor planning or buildings too big to fit into the pattern. Of course, they’d built down on the bottom as well, a relatively standard layout of tall buildings.

Private vehicles seemed to be in short supply, heavily supplanted by tram systems, walkways, lifts and travelling platforms.

“And that’s it,” the operator said as the tram came to a slightly jarring stop. “Welcome to Greiko.”

They exited out onto a platform, and with no toll system or any such in place they simply wandered off. They were on the city’s second topmost ring, and the one above it was patchy, possibly just made up of utility buildings, or maybe poor districts.

The tallest building, by far, was the Red Tower. It was down on the bottom, too far away to make out any signs, but what else could it possibly be? It rose to about 200 metres straight up, stopping at the ring just below the one the tram had brought them to, and had a distinctive rust-red colour.

There was a public map, about halfway between the tram station, and another similar one that led to a train station, and they all looked it over for a little while before downloading the file and continuing on their way.

The locals paid them little heed. Freeze or no, Undercity Greiko was still connected to the rest of the planet, so outsiders weren’t anything to take notice of, and the local dress styles weren’t wild enough for Gaylen’s group to stand out. And that was just how he liked it.

“There’s tension here,” Kiris mused after a couple of minutes of walking, and taking in the people. “I wouldn’t call it catastrophic, or a time bomb, necessarily. But… there are concerns in the air. Just in… general.”

Gaylen had gotten a vague impression of that, but of course Kiris’s impressions were anything but vague. The city was no warzone, but there was an atmosphere of stress, in the way people held themselves. Perhaps it tied into whatever was going on with the Trade Leagues.

Gaylen hadn’t gotten far in those ruminations when a woman jogged into their field of vision and came to a stop.

“Hello. Are you the crew of the freighter Addax?”

She was quite reedy, with yellowish skin and hair that was completely black save for a dyed-in blue streak. She was of the Veroki subtype.

Habit made Gaylen look around, in case she was here as a distraction for someone else, but the nearby foot traffic just continued its flow.

“Yes,” he said.

“My name is Polina,” she said. “And my boss sent me with an invitation. He wishes to speak with you.”

“Really?” Gaylen said. “And what kind of boss is he, Polina?”

“He manages affairs in my neighbourhood.”

“You are being rather vague.”

“Hm.”

She crossed those stick-thin arms across a narrow chest and walked a couple of steps closer. Her clothes were utilitarian and made from sturdy materials, and he caught a faintly unpleasant odour coming off her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “He is head of an informal council. Sort of a labour-council. And he is not in the habit of having guests brought over for muggings.”

“Labour?”

“Labour.”

“And what does he want with three strangers who only just arrived planetside?” Gaylen asked.

“Well, I understand that he wants to offer you a job, or some such.”

“And that’s all you know?” Gaylen asked.

She held her hands up.

“Come now. Who sends their right-hand people to ferry a simple message?”

“Hmm. And where is this neighbourhood of yours?”

“Boss Olek wants you to come with me down to Undertown.”

“An Undercity has an Undertown?” Gaylen asked.

She shifted from one foot to another. She looked a bit angered.

“Doesn’t every place?”

Gaylen looked to his left, at Kiris. The woman’s golden, so very perceptive eyes looked back without any warning or alarm. If there was some subterfuge going on, then the Veroki was not in on it. Unless she was very, very good at hiding it.

He looked to his right, at Jaquan. The engineer shrugged.

“A job? Money’s money, right?”

“You’re thinking of improvements to the Addax, aren’t you?” Gaylen asked.

“I am always thinking of improvements.”

“Right.”

Gaylen turned to the woman.

“Well, let’s see what your boss has to say.”