"The module from Mr. Freise." Hogan wipes at his mouth again. "Afraid you’re a little late. I was set up. Some trog bastard’s got it. Nearly ripped me to pieces taking it, too." On the surface, at least, this sounds like a load of manure. Just the kind of flimsy fabrication she would expect from some Streeter without the brains to concoct a really good story. She has a look underneath Hogan’s bandages, never mind what Castillano’s Trackers told her about the man being hurt. What she finds is a lot of raw meat. It is entirely possible that Hogan is in the process of dying. That changes her opinion a little. It also suggests she better go easy. Castillano was pretty definite about wanting Hogan alive, for reasons of his own. "So what the hell are you doing here?"