Should the story continue with a through the spires, or should we focus on a betrayal from within their own crew?
The sky over New Veridia wasn’t blue; it was the color of a bruised lung, choked by the neon haze of the High-Tier spires. Down in the "Silt"—the labyrinth of rusted shipping containers and flickering holographic ads—the air tasted of ozone and desperation.
"Get the Core," Jax said, unholstering his rifle and turning toward the approaching Enforcer skiffs. "I’ll make sure they remember why they call us Renegades." 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.
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. Should the story continue with a through the
"They found us fast," Kael gasped, scrambling toward the cargo hatch.
"I’m going as fast as the hardware allows! This isn't a toaster, Jax, it’s a Grade-A military encryption." Kael hissed as a spark jumped from the pad. "Done. The docking clamps are unlocked." "Get the Core," Jax said, unholstering his rifle
The ground began to hum. A low, rhythmic thrumming vibrated through their boots as the massive Mag-Lev freighter groaned onto the tracks above. It carried "The Core"—a stabilized fusion cell capable of powering the Silt for a decade, or leveling a city block if dropped. "Go," Jax commanded.