Occam’s route through the ice was somewhat erratic, but chosen well. The more active regions of the Pits were awash with ice crystals and other debris that scattered sensors and filled their returns with false-positives. Every now and then they would spot the boxy, cumbersome shape of an ice miner clinging to a rock, or the tall cylinders of a deuterium refinery. These outliers were in poor shape, but heavily defended by portable turrets, drone squadrons and mercenary pilots. One, almost undetectable in the midst of a particularly dense ice cloud, seemed to bear the markings of a pirate group. Regardless, nobody gave them trouble as they passed.
“We’re crossing into an interdiction field,” Occam announced. “You cause any trouble here you’ll have a squadron of Acherons on top of you in seconds. They’re about twenty-thousand to dorsal.”
The interdictors let them by without incident, and they were safely back into the shadows of another large rock. One more quick pass through a second interdiction field brought them alongside a pair of F-series Anacondas, their underbellies distended by the bulbous liquid cargo tanks that made up most of their internal space. They were empty, making an approach from a jump ship stationed at a nearby beacon. Six Alligators, similarly built for liquid hauling, approached from the other direction. Minutes later, the primary mining operation came into view.
A ball of ice four miles across loomed large on their forward sensors; its surface was littered with Jericho junks, Imperial sloops, Federation cargo barges and many more besides. Each ship sat in the centre of a hexagonal ice patch, the boundaries of which were marked by laser-cut trenches. Surrounding every ship was an ad-hoc collection of external systems; drills, refineries, solar collectors, landing pads and more besides. They were all linked to, and in some cased buried under modular habitation networks; the space-faring equivalent of tents or caravans. Translucent plastic domes and cylindrical corridors ensured that people could walk about the plots, and often cross into neighbouring plots. Some came for raw ice, others for pure water. Most came for deuterium, the precious fuel that kept their starships flying.
In the skies above, lesser vessels swarmed like bees drawn to nectar. They filled the air with the buzz of engines and the chatter of vox as they begged and bartered for docking rights. Re-purposed Sigurdr with their fat fuel-tank bellies hurled insults and threats at cargo-pattern Zealots, while the ubiquitous bulk haulers threatened to ram any ship that came between them and the umbilical lines raised up from the landed refinery ships. Standing out amongst the flying craft, hanging dejected in the sky, were the late-comers; those who had failed to acquire a mining plot, yet dared not strike out alone for fear of being preyed upon by unscrupulous types.
As the Mercenaries drew in they were greeted by the fighting arm of the Aqua Vitae Corporation. A pair of electric blue Nodachi came to challenge them, but there was no real malice to it. All were welcome here so long as they paid their bills and didn’t cause any trouble. An antiquated Imperial cruiser, built in times immemorial and quite literally falling apart around the edges acted as a dry dock and anchoring point for visiting ships, but Occam suggested an alternative. He plotted a course through the crowded skies, flying to the far side of the ice rock and picking out a junk that looked in slightly better condition than most of its rusting neighbours. He settled down on top of it, and custom-built feeder units embraced him lovingly, like a much-missed child coming home. Four fueling lines reached up into space, one from each corner of the ship, and three docking bubbled lined up side by side in the midst of the ship’s personal tent village. An automated signal box called them in greeting.
“Welcome traveler, and thank you for stopping by! Old Elijah’s Heavy Water is a family-run operation licensed to refine ice into deuterium by the Aqua Vitae Corporation. Your custom is appreciated. Do enjoy your stay!”
The Acheron:
The Acheron is an Imperial Interdictor, also known as a “Fast Frigate” or “Jump Frigate”. Based upon the Cerberus, but built to a custom hull plan, the Acheron sports six main guns on its nose cone and has considerably more engines than would be expected for a ship its size. It also sports a microwarp system, allowing it to quickly redeploy to combat zones.
Acherons are not particularly popular, as the massive power requirements of the engine and jump system make the vessel quite fragile, but for surprise attacks they are truly devastating. The Aqua Vitae corporation maintains a few squadrons of Interdictors, which they primarily use in conjunction with ECM and Tacklers to quickly disable and destroy anything that threatens their operations.