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He was running like his life depended on it. The Samalian had seen him, or at least glimpse his presence, and he'd immediately took off, like he could sense the danger.

He pulled a gun from somewhere and fired back, but he knew he'd missed his target when shots were fired in response, so he ran faster. Through alleys and streets, through buildings. At one point he climbed to the roof of one, thinking he'd finally lost his pursuer, but that didn't last. He saw him, walking purposely along the alley he'd just been in, gun in hand.

With a soft curse he started running again, across the rooftops this time. When he ran out of them he went back to the ground, and caught his breath. He was sure he'd lost him now, there was no way he'd been able to follow, but sound came from deep in a nearby alley.

He went to check and saw the same form, still walking, gun in hand. He couldn't understand how that was possible, and he didn't have the time to wonder. Not if he wanted to remain free.

He ran.

He knew the city, and he tried to lose his pursuer by taking shortcuts and hidden passages through older buildings, but it didn't work. At one point he decided to make a stand. He found cover and fired when his pursuer appeared.

He didn't care who else got hurt, but his enemy found cover of his own and fired back. In no time at all, he'd decimated most of the Samalian's cover and he had no choice but to run again.

Down more alleys, more streets.

He planted a bomb in a building and brought it down, hoping to kill his pursuer that way, or at least to make him lose the trail, but it didn't work. When the dust cleared, he was still there, advancing toward him.

He ran again. He was getting tired now. He wasn't entirely certain where he was in the city anymore, of what the way out was, but he didn't slow down. To slow was to be caught, and he wasn't going to allow that.

Down the alleys he continued, turning this way and that, checking over his shoulder and constantly seeing his pursuer. Then it happened, he made a wrong turn and found himself in a dead end. He turned to leave it, but he could hear his pursuer coming, the sound of his steps measured, like the ticking of an old clock, like the passage of time, utterly inevitable.

He prepared himself. If he couldn't get out of this alley, he was going to fight. But before his pursuer appeared, something clicked above the Samalian, and he looked up to see the net fall on him.

* * * * *

"Wait a minute." The man who'd objected was seated behind a battered desk, the surface of which blinked with gibberish. His face was covered with scars, his hair was more gray than brown, but he was clean shaven. He pulled his feet off the desk and sat forward. "You're trying to tell us that you captured him using a net?"

The him he pointed at was a tall and muscular Samalian with deep brown fur, almost black, with speckling of white. He had large metal cuffs covering his forearms, linked to the equally large collar around his neck by a metal rod, forcing him to keep his arms close to his face.

In contrast to the man who'd spoken, the one who had been recounting the events was smooth-faced, shaved and with smooth unblemished skin, His blond hair was messy, but his clothes, a gray set of work pants and utility jacket were immaculate.

He looked at the Samalian and back to the man behind the desk. "Using a stun net," he clarified.

"You captured that, using a stun net?" The man laughed and the others in the room laughed with him, except for the one who'd brought in the Samalian. He shuffled in place and tried to keep his face from showing emotions.

In the middle of the laughter the Samalian roared and lounged for the closest person, a woman holding a rifle almost larger than she was. She stumbled as she tried to bring the rifle up. She wouldn't be in time. Even restrained as he was, the Samalian would be on her, and then there was no telling what he would do.

But he didn't make it. He screamed and tensed, then fell to the floor, shaking. The young man who'd brought him in was holding a remote and smiled viciously. When he let go of the switch, the Samalian stopped moving.

"I'm beginning to think he likes being shocked, considering how often I've had to do this."

The Samalian glared at him and growled menacingly.

The others moved to the edge of the room as the Samalian got to his feet, growling the entire time and his gaze fixed on the man holding the remote.

The six against the walls, four men and two women, had brought weapons out and pointed them at the Samalian. The man behind the desk hadn't moved, other than to look at the woman who had almost been mauled. They all looked older and worn, as if the universe had chewed them up and spat them out.

"I told you that cannon of yours would get you killed one of these days."

She grinned. "Hasn't happened today, and you didn't complain when I used it to blast that pirate last month."

The man shrugged and looked at the newcomer. "Okay, let's say that I believe you when you say you caught him with a net, sorry, a stun net. Then you somehow dragged him to your ship and what? Came here to hand him over?"

"I'm not stupid, the first thing I did was put those on him so he couldn't escape."

"Wait, you chased him through that city carrying those?"

The younger man hesitated. "Well, yeah."

The older man smiled. "Sure, okay, so now you're here, why?"

"Because Down Below pays well for the bounties it gets."

The man laughed. "Try again kid. This prison is run by a bunch of money pinchers. I barely get enough to pay this sorry lot."

"I am not a kid," he grumbled, then sighed. "The people I owe money to won't wait anymore. You were the closest."

"You owe a lot of money?"

The younger man nodded. "Had a run of bad luck recently."

"Gambling?"

The young man glared at him. "It isn't gambling, I have a system."

The man behind the desk raised his hands. "I get you. Every gambler I've ever met had a system. Not many of them turn to bounty hunting to pay off their debts though."

"Look, I didn't come here to talk about my life or my bad decisions. Do you want him or not? If not, I'm sure there's other prisons who will take him."

"Oh, I want him. I wouldn't pass up this prize." He hit the desk a few times and the surface settled into a command board. He typed a few keys and a door behind the man slid open to reveal a closet-sized room. "Brun, Helga, Charles, keep your guns on him. He so much as tries to escape, shoot him, but don't kill him. He isn't worth anything dead."

"Why don't we just maim him right now?" the large black man said. "Be easier to deal with him that way."

"And deprive our residents of their fun and games? Now Charles, you know better than that." He pointed to the Samalian. "You, walk to the lift."

For a moment it looked like he would fight, as he looked everyone over, but finally he moved.

"Stop," the man said as the Samalian reached the open door. "Someone search him."

"I'll do it," the woman who'd almost been mauled said. She leaned her gigantic rifle against the wall and confidently stepped before the Samalian.

He was only wearing black pants, but she still ran her hand through the fur on his arms, chest back and sides. She took her time, looking in the Samalian's eyes the entire time, smiling as he growled at her.

Her hands went to his belt, and undid it. She pulled it out of the loops and dropped it to the floor. Then she ran her hands down along the fabric of one leg, then up the other. When that was down she spent some time groping his groin.

"Oh for Matrish's Sake," the man behind the desk said. "Viv, if you're going to make out with that, tell me now and I'll just send you down with him."

She seemed to think about it, then stepped away from him. If the Samalian had been affected by her ministration, he didn't show it.

"I swear," the man said. "You'll fuck anyone with a cock, or just something resembling a cock."

She picked up her rifle and aimed it at the Samalian. "A girl has needs, you know. It isn't like anyone here satisfies them."

"This is a prison, Viv, not a whorehouse."

She looked at the men in the room. "That would explain the guns. I guess I missed that when I applied."

The man nodded to the younger one. "That's got to come off."

"Are you sure? He can be a handful if he isn't restrained."

"Yeah, I'm sure. We can't let stuff like those restraints get down below. You have no idea what our residents can do with that kind of tech."

"Fine, but I did warn you." He raised the remote.

Viv smiled. "Twitch, and I'm going to start shooting off appendages. Don't worry, I'm going to keep the most important one for last."

The man at the desk nodded and with the flick of a switch the restraints fell to the floor. Very slowly the Samalian rubbed his neck.

"Get in the lift."

The Samalian glared at them as he stepped back, the door sliding shut.

"Now," the man at the desk said, indicating for the other to take a seat. "Why don't you tell me again how you managed to capture the notorious Tristan."