"Yeah," Duran said, "but you let an op go blooie in your face at corporate level, and you’re not talking about pulling a few years in some slammer where you’ve got to protect your hoop from some inconsiderate hosers in the showers. You frag up, they take you out if the corporate competition hasn’t." Skater turned that over in his mind as he took up a piece of soybacon and pinched off bites. He chewed with patience, getting as much of the taste as he could. The flavor reminded him of the times when his grandfather had taken him camping on Council lands, when they’d caught rabbits and lizards and slow-roasted them over a spit so the juices didn’t all burn off.