Jocasta wiped the blood from the baton on some nearby foliage, then her face screwed up with consternation.

"What?" Markus demanded, bringing his weapon up in case it was needed.

"I just realized I missed a perfectly good 'is that a baton in your pocket' line," she lamented. 

"I'm regretting this already.."

__________________________

It took two hours to reach the starport they had overflown during the crash. They briefly took cover as a pair of orbital landers flew overhead, angling towards the crash site. Jocasta doubted they would do more than verify the crash. Two dead scapegoats were as effective as two live ones for Gallanis's purposes. Maybe better because they couldn't contradict his story. So long as they didn't make themselves obvious, they might hope to escape detection for some time.

The starport was a private one, attached to a series of agricultural properties which stretched around it like spokes on a great wheel. Every few hours a light transport would touch down and carts of wheat and barely would be loaded on for transshipment to jump capable craft in orbit.

"Well, it isn't going to be a Nevian Luxury Line," Jocasta observed as she watched the loading from the top of a small hill a half kilometer from the port.