[s1e2] Birds Of A Feather -

"No? We’re both sitting in a basement, hiding from the same police, trying to keep a world from ending. If we're both flying toward the same sun, does it matter whose wings are real and whose are scrap metal?"

"Birds of a feather," Jax muttered, echoing an old proverb his grandfather used. "We aren't the same, Jax," Kaelen countered. [S1E2] Birds of a Feather

"You have the drive?" Kaelen whispered, leaning in. His eyes darted toward the door, where a pair of Enforcers were hassling a street vendor. "We aren't the same, Jax," Kaelen countered

Jax, a scrawny mechanic with grease permanently etched into his cuticles, sat across from Kaelen. Kaelen was a High-Flyer, a literal citizen of the floating Upper Spire. He wore silks that cost more than Jax’s entire workshop, yet here he was, nursing a glass of fermented sludge in the slums. Jax, a scrawny mechanic with grease permanently etched

A crash at the door ended the philosophy lesson. The Enforcers had spotted them.

"Time to fly, High-Flyer," Jax grinned, kicking the table over to create a barricade. He pulled a pair of makeshift mag-grapples from his belt and tossed one to Kaelen. "Hope you aren't afraid of heights."

Jax patted his vest. "The drive, the encryption keys, and a very short fuse. Why are we doing this again?"