Dropping down to the space between Hooligan’s and some other shop provided little cover for Pitcher. This whole zone would be surveilled by Colonial Police drones in the next few minutes. Pitcher was not sure how advanced security had become since he went away, but he took no chances.

With bloodstained clothing and his arm wound, encountering others was a no-no. He quickly broke down the alley toward the next block. Keeping to the shadows while searching for access to below ground were his priorities. Pitcher was very good at disappearing in plain sight.

He came to rest behind an air exchange off Yamamoto as the hoverbikes started to swarm. The Colonial Police began deploying drones and crawler bots to scour the area. Pitcher’s image and perhaps his DNA was already programmed in. Time was running out.

The air exchange grate yielded to his kicks and he squeezed himself through and down. The latch tore at his arm wound, gashing it further, DNA left behind! He slid down toward the duct junction.