The stolen smuggler's skiff rattled like a broken shopping cart as it tore through the dark purple smog of the Juncture.
"This thing drives like absolute shit, Seattle," Sebastian grumbled.
He leaned against the rusted railing of the deck holding a lukewarm cup of terrible synthesized coffee he found in the ship's meager pantry.
"Hey, you didn't pay for the luxury package, Boss," Gwen shot back from the helm as her hands flew across the glowing control runes.
She wore her heavy trench coat pulled tight against the chill of the void.
"This boat was built out of scrap from a deleted farming simulator. You're lucky the engine hasn't turned into a giant digital pumpkin yet."
Down in the lower hull, Corbin was frantically running cables from the primary mana-engine to his freshly built Server Spoofing Drive.
The paranoid code-smith looked like he was on the verge of a massive heart attack.
