Sartre checked the console, made sure the pressurized jetway had pulled back, clicked the toggles, then disengaged the anchoring mechanism from the city-station. In the distance, Europa’s reflection captured his gaze for a moment. The small Jovian moon with red gashes resembling veins never failed to amaze him.
His G-class ship then drifted, as it was released from its namesake’s docking clamps. He didn’t have much time; soon, his delta-wing’s movement would be detected by Europa 11’s customs patrols. He didn’t have clearance yet to leave, but he didn’t want to ask for permission either.
A clanking noise within the ship alarmed Sartre, but he didn’t have the luxury of checking the source. Opis had been designed to be manned by two people. It took all of Sartre’s attention to maneuver it
