*   *   *

Steej walked through the long, scarred hold of an Ajanni freighter that had been turned into a luridly lit bazaar, and studied the faces of everyone gathered there.

Only a handful of them looked human. And of that handful, no one came close to matching the description of the bomber or his female accomplice.

But they were still in Oblivion. The security director was certain of that.

After all, he had sent out detailed descriptions of the fugitives through the city’s security net—transmitting them not only to his own officers, but to his counterparts in the city’s other sectors as well.

Less than twenty minutes after the prisoner escaped, they had locked the city down. Ships were forbidden to leave until they were searched, lest they contain a couple more passengers than they were supposed to.

Steej winced as he was jostled by a passing Nausicaan, his ribs still sore from the phaser blast he had absorbed. “Watch where you’re going,” he snapped.

The Nausicaan turned, considered him for a moment, and said, “I will”—the closest thing to an apology that he was likely to utter. Then he continued on his way.

The Rythrian decided to move on as well, albeit in the opposite direction. He had seen enough here. He wanted to inspect the bar two compartments farther down.

Mercantile captains frequented the place when they were looking for cargo to haul. The human and his friend might have gone there to see if they could get a ride out of Oblivion, despite the security crackdown.

It was worth a look, at least. And if there wasn’t anything interesting there, Steej had a long list of other locations to check out.

His counterparts in the city’s other sections wouldn’t have been doing their own legwork on a case. They considered it beneath them.

But Steej had always taken crimes in his part of Oblivion personally, as if he himself were the victim. And in this instance, he had even more reason to do so.

He wasn’t normally the vindictive sort, but he didn’t like what the human had done to him. Steej wanted very much to get him back in a detention cell, so he could give the human a taste of what he had doled out.

Perhaps several tastes.

It won’t be long, he told himself, as he left the bazaar and walked through an exotic-clothing store on his way to the bar. It won’t be long at all.

Of course, he was dealing with a most clever team here. They had to be clever, or one wouldn’t have been able to break the other one out of the detention facility.

But Steej was clever too.

He had yet to meet the fugitive capable of eluding his dragnet—and he doubted that either of these two would become the first. Soon, they would find themselves as overmatched as all the others.

And when that happened, Steej told himself, his ribs would feel a whole lot better.