"The Enforcers are already pinging the sector," Jax said, glancing at the drone lights swiveling in the smog above. "We don’t have three minutes."
They used the pneumatic lifts, shooting upward into the dark. Jax hit the mag-locks on his boots, sticking to the underbelly of the moving train with a jarring thud . Below them, the city shrank into a grid of dying embers. Suddenly, a red spotlight swept over them. Renegades
Jax tightened the strap of his kinetic pulse-rifle. Beside him, Kael was rewriting the code on a stolen security pad, his fingers moving like a pianist’s. "The Enforcers are already pinging the sector," Jax
Should the story continue with a through the spires, or should we focus on a betrayal from within their own crew? Below them, the city shrank into a grid of dying embers
They were the Renegades—not by choice, but by debt. In New Veridia, you either owned a piece of the sky or you were buried under the weight of it. Jax and Kael had spent their lives scavenging the scraps of the elite, but tonight, they were taking the whole damn meal.