"If you want to spend the rest of your short, miserable lives getting turned into colanders by Vance's municipal blockade, by all means, march right up Fourth and Mercer," Nina said, her voice dropping to a sharp, urgent hiss as she kicked open a rusted floor grate near the back of the packing plant. "Otherwise, grab your gear and follow me down into the grease."Kian stared down into the gaping black maw of the drainpipe. A thick, roiling wave of hot, sulfurous steam billowed up from the darkness, carrying the heavy, stomach-turning stench of industrial runoff, rancid cooking oil, and decades of rotting urban refuse."You've got to be kidding me," Bao muttered, stepping to the edge of the opening and peering into the Stygian depths with a grimace. "That’s not a maintenance tunnel. That’s a municipal grease trap for the entire lower commercial district.""It's the only way out of the sector that isn't lined with razor-wire and heavy riot shields," Nina snapped back, already dropping h

"Stop talking, keep moving," Nina hissed over her shoulder, her small frame slipping effortlessly through the narrow aperture of a rusted steam junction box.Kian stumbled forward, his boot sliding across a thick slick of industrial grease that coated the sub-basement floor. He caught himself against the damp, sweating brick wall, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The air inside the junction was an intolerable mix of scalding vapor and metallic decay, burning his throat with every inhalation. Beside him, Bao grunted sharply, his hand instinctively flying up to clutch at his left shoulder where the recent shrapnel wound throbbed beneath blood-soaked bandages."I can't... I can't keep this pace," Bao wheezed, leaning heavily against a rusted support beam. His face was stark white, slick with a sickening mixture of sweat and grime. "My shoulder feels like someone took a red-hot iron to the joint.""You don't have a choice," Nina snapped back, her eyes wide and darting frantical

"Keep that pressure locked down, Bao, or you’re going to bleed out before we even figure out what our next move is," Kian said, his hands moving with harsh, clumsy urgency as he pressed a dirty length of canvas hard against the old man's torn shoulder.Bao winced, his teeth gritted so tightly a thin line of red appeared at the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to press quite so hard, kid. I'm well aware my arm is currently trying to separate itself from my torso without your enthusiastic assistance.""If I don't press hard, you won't have a torso left to complain about," Kian fired back, his fingers coming away slick with fresh, dark blood in the dim, flickering light of the abandoned railway car. "Nina, grab that bottle of industrial solvent from the supply crate. We need to clean this wound before it rots from the inside out."Nina scrambled across the rusted metal floor, her boots clanking loudly against the hollow deck plates. She snatched up a heavy, glass-blown bottle with a

"Hold your fire!" Kian barked, his hands shooting up into the air as three heavy-gauge rail-spikes clattered against the damp gravel inches from his boots. "We aren't corporate asset recovery. We’re just trying to get through the yard.""You look like corporate trash to me, kid," a deep, gravel-laced voice boomed from the shadow of a towering gantry crane. "And in this sector, trash gets fed to the incinerator, or it pays a toll."Garza stepped out from beneath the rusted overhang of the maintenance shed, his heavy canvas coat soaked through with the persistent, oily drizzle that coated the lower districts. He was a massive man with shoulders like a freight car and a thick, iron-gray beard that hid half his throat. In his right hand, he held a pneumatic rivet gun modified into a brutal close-quarters weapon, the business end hissing faintly with residual pressure. Behind him, half a dozen union men shifted out of the gloom, their faces illuminated only by the dull, sickly green glow o

"Dead weight or not, that hum brings Vance’s private security hounds right to my doorstep," Garza barked, stepping within arm’s reach of Kian. The union boss’s breath plumed heavily in the cold air, smelling faintly of cheap tobacco and stale engine grease. "Every time your biometric signature flickers, my perimeter alarms start singing. So don't stand here telling me you're harmless."Kian gritted his teeth, the remaining scar tissue at the base of his skull throbbing in rhythm with the union boss’s aggressive pulse. "We’re trying to lose Vance just as badly as you are, Garza. If we wanted to draw heat, we would have walked straight down the main boulevard with a corporate transponder blinking red.""Words are cheap, kid," Garza muttered, lowering the pneumatic rivet gun by a fraction of an inch, though the pressure valve continued to hiss a warning note into the damp air. "I've heard every corporate runaway, smuggler, and defector make grand promises while my boys do the bleeding. Y