“Dispatch, this is 403. Requesting suborbit squad over these coordinates, copy?” Constable Hughes was a surly gun and mustache with a mien inhibitor that concealed just how pissed he always was. But he did smile, just a little, at his looming victory. The two officers with him holstered their blasters; he kept his trained on the man behind the energy shield.

“That was a pretty stupid stunt you pulled back there, Murphy,” he barked.

Murphy was lying in the dirt, still trying to catch his breath. He said nothing.

“So where you off to now, son? Rigel? Procyon?”

Murphy turned away. All that running had reopened the laceration on his chest. He just hoped Nevin remembered to charge his suturon.

“Word on the street says you might want to visit some buddies over in Forsythe. That true, Murphy?”

Suddenly the hatch swung open and Kathryn darted to Murphy’s side in her usual bare feet. “My God, Captain, what happened to you?”

“You saved my life, Kate, that’s what happened. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”