elia. She hadn't been here in almost a year, but nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing. "You're hoarding more junk than ever, Marek," she said, brushing aside a hanging cable. From behind a t

re lower grid for generations. But he's auctioning it to offworlders who'll pay to weaponize it." "Classic Everen," Marek muttered. Celia broke in. "That's why I brought him here. We don't just need to hide-we need a plan. If the core's that powerful, we can't let it vanish into space. We need to hit back." Marek smirked. "You're talking sabotage." "No," Celia corrected. "I'm talking revolution." Lawrence hesitated, then pulled the fake drone core from his coat and set it on the table. "This one's a decoy," he said. "But the real core is hidden. Only I know where." Marek's fingers stopped twitching. His eyes narrowed. "Where?" Lawrence looked at Celia. "I'll tell you. But only after I know you're in this for more than credits." Celia raised an eyebrow. "You think I dragged you through a plasma gunfight for money?" "No," he admitted. "But I've seen how desperate people get. And I've seen how easy it is to give up when survival's all you've got." Celia looked him straight in the eye. "We don't give up down here. We get angry." Marek leaned back. "Well, angry is useful." He spun his chair to a separate