Any target, no matter how proficient, no matter how paranoid, eventually made a mistake. It was axiomatic among spooks, that if you waited long enough, the enemy eventually slipped. Of course, that cut both ways, and it was far less comforting when you were on the receiving end. Kade Saraswati hurried through the crowded the streets of Pinacra as quickly as she could without attracting attention.

Pinacra, like all cities on Panopontus, was half sunken into the vast limestone beds which generations of open air exocoral had lain down. Far above her a dome of hexagonal rad resistant steel closed the city in. When the colony had been settled, one hundred and twelve years ago on the downslope of the receding edge of Terran Expansion the dome had been clear. Kade had seen aging tourist holos where one could see the vast colorful coral forests beyond through glittering domes that hardly seemed to disturb the photons passing through them. That seemed a relic of a bygone age now. Years of corporate governance and the war with the Cappelian’s had strained Panopontus. Transparent steel was expensive and darkened under the assault of the radiation laced winds that stirred the ethereal coral forests. Successions of first Colonial and then Corporate governors had found regular steel to be a more economical choice for repairs, if they were forced to do repairs at all. The result was that the soaring geodesic dome now had the appearance of weirdly digitized storm cloud, each panel its own particular shade of gray.

Kade was unconcerned with the aesthetics. She moved through the crowded streets, ignoring the hawkers selling meat of dubious provenance roasted on charcoal stoves, brightly appointed shop fronts where trays of exo coral were laid out for inspection by would be prospectors, sleazy pawn shops and repair services that were stuffed with rad suits and cutting gear. The whole panoply of the world boiled down to sight lines and escape routes in her mind. Being hunted was a hell of a way to shut out distractions.

Panopontus had seemed the perfect place to liquidate some of her assets. The coral forests were useful in the manufacture of all manner of pharmaceuticals and provided an easy way to launder money, there was no Terran fleet elements based here and the SID viewed the place as of marginal importance, a view they expanded to most of the Persian Marches. Unfortunately those same elements that made it an attractive place to do business for her, made it attractive for her enemies as well. She wasn’t certain who the dark clothed men following her through the crowded streets were. A decade in covert ops made the list lamentably long. Corporate Head Scramblers, Karvalan Pirates, Yipayan Death Cultists, the Bempagi Free Militia, it didn’t really matter right now. What was important is that they had recognised her, and the snatch was in progress. 

Gripping her service pistol in the pocket of her synthetic leather jacket she wove a confusing trail through alleyways, in and out of stores and through narrow turn abouts. It made her a challenge to follow, but home ground advantage and manpower, as well as a degree of dumb luck was proving too much for her to overcome. Since she had spotted the tail ten minutes ago they had been pushing her, deliberately or not, further and further from the spaceport district she needed to reach in order to escape. All it would take was one wrong turn, one dead end she didn’t predict and this was going to get bloody. She needed to go to ground. A brothel would have been best. Suspicious bouncers, private rooms, angry customers, but most of the flesh pots were clustered around the now out of reach starport. A bar then. She spotted one across the street and stepped quickly across. With practiced easy she shucked her coat, thrust the pistol into her fatigue pants and ditched the coat in the mouth of an alleyway. Her appearance at least a little altered, she ducked into the  bar and hoped for the best.