The hovercraft’s engine coughed black smoke into the amber twilight. Ryan wiped a smear of synthetic oil from his cheek, his fourth pair of goggles already cracked.
The boy’s eyes were wide, but he reached up. Ryan-s Rescue Squad
But as the hovercraft’s belly hatch opened and the boy laughed—actually laughed—at the rush of wind, Ryan knew the truth. The hovercraft’s engine coughed black smoke into the
Halfway there, a sinkhole opened at Kael’s feet. Jax caught his arm without a word, hauling him up while Ryan fired a grappling line across the chasm. They didn’t stop. They didn’t argue. But as the hovercraft’s belly hatch opened and
“Directly below us. And Mira? Make it fast.”
Ryan finally stood. He was the youngest commander in the sector, and the most doubted. His crew wasn’t military; they were misfits, burnouts, and the forgotten. But when a distress signal went unanswered, when the official rescue corps logged it as “low priority,” Ryan’s Squad was the one that showed up.
“New plan,” Ryan said. “Mira, you stay with the hovercraft. Get it airborne. Jax, Kael, with me. We move fast.”