Blood on the Asphalt biker
I followed Dax as he vaulted up the jagged, smoking debris, our boots crunching on shattered smart-glass and twisted iron.
Inside the command deck, the emergency red lighting flickered sporadically. Pinned beneath a massive durasteel support beam was a Paladin. His pristine white and gold armor was scorched black, the golden sunburst insignia on his chest plate cracked right down the middle. His helmet had been knocked off in the crash, revealing a young man with a shaved head and a bleeding gash above his eye.
He was terrified, but he tried to mask it with a sneer as Dax stepped into his field of vision.