Jace Varn’s boots hit the pavement hard, weaving through the crowded streets of New Cascadia’s lower district like rat-dodging traps. The data stick from the Docks job was still in his pocket, a nagging weight next to the credits he’d scored from Milo. He hadn’t heard from Riko since the botched pickup, and that silence was louder than any curse. Jace knew better than to sit on hot goods, but he wasn’t ready to ditch the stick yet. Not until he knew what it was worth. For now, he needed cash to keep moving, and that meant taking whatever jobs came his way.
The morning was gray, smog choking the sky, making the neon signs glow duller than usual. Holo-ads flickered overhead, pushing neural implants and fake promises of a better life. Jace ignored them, his eyes scanning for drones. The city
