[i]There are rules, there are goddamned rules.[/i] Miranda thought as she briskly walked through the station, people milling about as she made her way to her destination, only stopping to lift a Hornet Scooter. The rules were very rudimentary, almost all based on a twisted honor code, but they were there. You don't deal where you don't have permission, you don't shoot other people's dealers, and you don't shake down Info Brokers that are gathering info on somebody else cred! 
Miranda had been sniffing around Ghajotia for weeks, looking for the boy made of matchsticks who had done the impossible, gotten his fingers on the unfingerable. And now that she finally, finally got wind of him, the Databreaker was intercepted by some gunsel. The guy was described as some kind of wannabe MilCorp in black, but between the Militia, the Brethren, scruffier members of actual MilCorp and several freelancers with more firearms than fashion sense, that could describe half of town. And given what the Grendy's kid had, there was no way there were that few people involved.
All of this was running through Miranda's fuming mind as she picked up speed scooting towards where the kid was, a warehouse, with a roof that was nearly concave, just the sort of place a loser like Grendy would hold court. All wasn't lost yet, the situation was still salvageable, if nothing else she should at least be able to buy some ti-
Gunshots. First one. Then a lot. Then silence. Miranda winced, the gray-green images of her eyes flickering out and back onto the screen of her eyes, then leapt off the Bug and crept into the shadows. Disk or not disk, she wouldn't do C any good with a bullet in her dome.