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Sailors and dockhands, soldiers of fortune looking for an outward-bound ship, ladies of negotiable virtue, and the usual assortment of thugs and thieves.
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'That one escaped me.' 'You know the signs, Sparhawk - the mysterious expression, the cryptic remarks, the melodramatic pauses, the superior manner.
Then it's true! There's an alien outpost in the Reserva that's being kept from the public. Rising excitement dominated the poacher's voice. And you didnt say outpost you said colony.