"Zero military discipline or not, they’ve still got rifles pointed straight at the merchant's ribs, and unless you’ve suddenly learned how to teleport across a hundred yards of open gravel, walking right down the middle of that camp is going to get us both ventilated," Vesper whispered, his knuckles white as he gripped the stock of his crossbow. He pressed his back tighter against the rusted fuel drum, trying to regulate the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat. Below them, in the natural rock bowl of the canyon camp, the flickering light of a burning tire cast long, distorted shadows across the canvas tents and the huddled, trembling forms of the captured family.Cassian didn't blink. Her optics zoomed in on the central fire pit, the faint mechanical whir of her internal lenses audible even over the moan of the canyon wind. "We aren't walking down the middle. That would be suicide. But they made a critical error when they set up their perimeter."Vesper raised an eyebrow, squinting throug

"And if I drop a pebble?" Vesper hissed, his fingers tightening around the cold, greasy stock of his crossbow until his knuckles ached. Below them, the raiders were laughing, passing around a dented canteen of fermented rot-gut that smelled like burning plastic and old batteries.Cassian didn't look back at him. Her metallic fingers tested the tension of the fraying steel cable anchored to a rusted eye-bolt on the ledge. "Then you had better be fast enough to catch them before they pull their triggers. The distraction at the generator tower will buy you precisely forty seconds. Not a fraction more.""Forty seconds," Vesper repeated, the dry taste of copper and fear flooding his mouth. "That is aggressively optimistic, even for a former military knight.""Optimism is a luxury for people who don't have plasma burns on their spine-plates," Cassian muttered, shifting her weight as a sudden, sharp gust of wind howled through the narrow stone pass. "Now move. The generator's thermal overloa

"𝙼𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚅𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛! 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎!" 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚛𝚑𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚖-𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛.𝚅𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚟𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎-𝚌𝚊?

"𝙿𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛," 𝚅𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎-𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚜. "𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚝."𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝—𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝, 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍-𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎—𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚑𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎. 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚑𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍

"If you drop that heater one more time, Vesper, I am going to weld your boots directly to the petrified floorboards," Cassian muttered, her voice muffled inside the hollow, cavernous interior of the giant fossilized redwood. A sharp hiss of escaping gas cut through the stillness, followed instantly by the soft, steady hum of a chemical heating element clicking into place.Vesper winced, catching the small metal canister just before it bounced against a protruding ridge of gray, brittle stone. He slid down the curving wall of the ancient trunk, his bruised ribs protesting with a dull, white-hot ache that made him hiss through his teeth."Careful," Vesper wheezed, sliding his back down the petrified wood until he hit the uneven ground. "Treat the wounded scavenger with a bit more reverence, Knight. Without my delicate tactical mind, you’d still be wandering around that ravine trying to negotiate with a drone.""My internal navigational subroutines were functioning at eighty-eight percen