FADE IN:
BLACK. Crowd noise rises. The Angels riff into “Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again.”
SUPER: Sydney. New Year’s Eve. 1979.
BLACK — OVER
NARRATOR (V.O.)
Sydney, 1980 — a big old engine that never fully idles. Cabbies kept the pistons pumping: Greeks with coffee nerves, Lebanese blokes with big hearts, Vietnamese new to the words but not the work. You waved, we stopped. That was the deal.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
This mob you’re about to meet — they didn’t wait for the city to make room. They made a table, bolted wheels on it, and called it a shift.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
And then there’s Tran — brain like a switchboard, pockets full of paperclips. First bloke I ever saw run a taxi off solder smoke and dial‑up. Didn’t call it hacking. Just called it fixing.
ACT I — SETUP
EXT. SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE — NIGHT
Fireworks testing pops. Riot police lines bow under crowd pressure. Bottles arc. Vendors shout.
TRAN (early 20s, Vietnamese, wiry) hustles hotdogs from a battered cart. Beneath the counter: a hacked transistor radio tuned to police chatter.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
That’s Tran. Came here with more ideas than English and somehow that was plenty.
EXT. MACQUARIE STREET — NIGHT
A Ford Falcon taxi idles. JIMMY “COOKIE” DIMITRIOU (early 30s, Greek‑Australian), steady hands, curious eyes.
Tran taps the window.
TRAN
Taxi? You free?
JIMMY
Nah mate, light’s off. Try the rank.
Later: Jimmy’s engine dies. Tran reappears with a toolbox, bridges a wire with a paperclip. The Falcon coughs to life.
JIMMY
You a mechanic or a magician?
TRAN
Electrician. Bit of both.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
Two strangers, one miracle. Sydney loves that kind of math.
INT. DEPOT CAFÉ — DAY
Jimmy introduces Tran to the cabbies: NABIL (Lebanese, chain‑smoker), ANH (Vietnamese, quiet), YUSUF (Turkish, jovial), BILL (older Anglo, cynical). Tran quietly solders a CB.
JIMMY
Bloke’s a wizard. Had my Falcon runnin’ off scraps.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
A table like that’s a kind of family — no blood, just burnt fingers and shared smokes.
MONTAGE — EARLY STRUGGLES
• Jimmy cops racist abuse from a passenger, defuses with calm wit.
• Anh pulled into yet another license check.
• Nabil hands a painful cut to the depot.
• Tran scavenges a busted acoustic‑coupler modem.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
City talks rough. You answer soft or you don’t last.
INT. TRAN’S SHED — NIGHT
A green‑screen terminal glows. Tran clamps a phone into the acoustic coupler. Text crawls:
WELCOME TO SYD CITY BOARD
NARRATOR (V.O.)
First rideshare I ever saw was a milk crate with wires. Worked better than half the blokes in suits.
EXT. CAB RANK — NIGHT
Tran unveils a group radio channel. Voices overlap. Laughter. For the first time, they’re not alone