The Reluctant Truce

The wind on the outer gantry whipped at Jax’s leather jacket. Below them, Neo-Verona was a dizzying canyon of neon advertisements and streams of flying vehicles.

Vesper stood at the edge of the platform, tapping furiously on a holographic display projecting from her wrist. "The tracker signal is fading. It's moving toward the upper tiers. My transport is docked three sectors away. I'll never catch it in time."

Jax grinned, sauntering over to a tarp covered in grime. With a theatrical flourish, he pulled it back to reveal his heavily modified, decidedly unsafe-looking hover-bike. It was painted a vibrant, obnoxious yellow. "Good thing my ride is right here."

Vesper stared at the bike as if it were a ticking bomb. "That is not a vehicle. That is a death wish with handlebars."

"It's fast, it's loud, and it's our only chance to catch three million credits," Jax said, swinging his leg over the seat and powering up the engine. It roared to life with a deafening, throaty rumble that vibrated through the metal grating beneath their feet. "I'll make you a deal, Locke. We ride together. We catch the dog. We split the bounty fifty-fifty."

Vesper looked from the bike to the disappearing blip on her wrist monitor. She ground her teeth. "Fine. Fifty-fifty. But if you get us killed, I am filing a posthumous grievance with the Mercenary Guild."

"Get on, princess."

Vesper climbed onto the seat behind him. There was barely any room. She sat stiffly, her hands hovering awkwardly near his waist.

"You're going to have to hold on tighter than that," Jax teased, though his heart hammered against his ribs at her proximity. "Unless you want to become a very expensive smear on the pavement."

With a frustrated huff, Vesper wrapped her arms tightly around his torso, pressing her chest against his back. Jax swallowed hard, his trademark cockiness faltering for a fraction of a second. He gunned the throttle.

The hover-bike shot off the gantry, plunging into the neon abyss.

Jax drove like a maniac, weaving through the organized lanes of air-traffic, threading the needle between massive cargo transports and sleek corporate cruisers. The wind roared in their ears, mixing with the relentless thrum of the city.

"Signal is holding!" Vesper yelled over the wind, her chin resting near his shoulder. "It's heading for the Zenith Skyscraper!"

"Copy that!" Jax banked hard to the left, narrowly avoiding an automated billboard advertising artificial limbs.

Suddenly, a proximity alarm blared on Jax’s dashboard. Three heavily armored, matte-black drones dropped from the cloud cover above, their front-mounted plasma cannons glowing red.

"Scrap Iron Gang," Jax shouted. "They must have caught the bounty broadcast!"

"Keep flying!" Vesper ordered.

Jax felt her shift her weight. In his rearview mirror, he saw her stand up slightly on the foot-pegs, drawing twin EMP pistols from her thigh holsters. She didn't even flinch as the drones opened fire.

Red plasma bolts streaked past them, superheating the air. Jax threw the bike into a dizzying barrel roll, plunging into a narrow alleyway between two residential towers.

Vesper fired over his shoulder. Her shots were ruthlessly precise. Blue energy crackled, striking the lead drone dead center. Its engines sputtered, and it spiraled out of control, crashing into a neon sign.

"Nice shot!" Jax yelled, genuinely impressed.

"Just drive, Vance!"

Jax cut the thrusters, dropping the bike thirty feet to evade a volley of fire from the remaining two drones, before slamming the propulsion back on to catch their fall. The G-force was brutal. He kicked the bike sideways, sliding along the glass facade of a high-rise.

Vesper fired again and again, moving in perfect sync with his erratic, chaotic flying. Where Jax was unpredictable and reckless, Vesper was cold, calculating, and flawless. They were complete opposites, yet entirely complementary.

A plasma bolt clipped the tail of the bike, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

"Hang on!" Jax yelled, spotting a narrow maintenance tunnel. He slammed the brakes, pivoting the bike 180 degrees, and shot backward into the tunnel.

The drones, unable to match the maneuver, flew past the entrance. Vesper took the opportunity to lean out and blast both of them in the rear exhaust ports. They detonated in a brilliant explosion of blue sparks and black smoke.

Jax let out a breathless laugh, bringing the bike to a hovering halt inside the dark tunnel. He turned his head to look at her.

Vesper holstered her weapons, her chest heaving, her hair slightly blown out of its perfect style. She looked flushed, dangerous, and absolutely magnificent.

"Adequate flying, Vance," she said, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

Jax stared at her, completely forgetting his usual defensive sarcasm. "You look terrifyingly attractive right now, Locke."

Vesper blinked, caught off guard. A faint dusting of pink appeared on her cheeks, visible even in the dim light of the tunnel. "Shut up, Jaxson, and follow that dog."