The head of an interstellar crime syndicate was brought up on a hard world, and it taught him the value of keeping a hand in every pocket. Case in point, a few pockets over at the deep space reconnaissance facility. Those guys make crumbs peeping through telescopes all day: why shouldn't they earn a little on the side? And what's the harm if he hears about a fresh planet a little higher up the grape vine?  Word on the street, anyway, is there's a new world on the radar. New territory. New pockets wanting for a hand. A new experience for some of his clients with more... exotic tastes in companionship.  Not a hard world, neither. A ripe one. A pretty one. Blue and green and crawling with prospects.