He tapped the data slate, and a projection bloomed above its surface — a rough star chart, Cael Athis marked at one edge with a small, isolated glyph, a curving transit line stretching away from it toward a cluster of denser markings some distance across the projected field.
"The Halcyon Span," Odris said. "A crossroads system, as I told you. Four inhabited worlds, two major orbital stations, and traffic thick enough that customs authorities have long since given up attempting to track every independent transfer that passes through it. If you wished to disappear into a crowd, young man, you could not have named a better one, whether by luck or by genuine knowledge of merchant shipping lanes."
"Luck," Rohan admitted. "Mostly luck."
