Along the way, a dozen gutterkin reached out to beg, or offer a guided tour, sex, guns, chips, and other things that would have made the average visitor recoil. Here the halfer gave himself away by not blanching at the offerings. Only a local would be so hardened, and a couple of the smarter squatters backed away, probably suspecting a covert op from either Lone Star or municipal security preparing another of their infamous blanket arrests where everybody ended up in The Citadel for questioning and fragging few of them ever came out again.