Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Coronado City, 2075

The City was still baking as the youth walked down the sidewalk. The Free State of California was going through a bit of a heat wave, and David was happy that his mom’s boss allowed him to keep her jacket after everything, the red DocWagon high visibility jacket helping a bit to keep the heat off his body.

He was sick of this city, he was sick of the gangs, he was sick that this was the place where his whole life came crashing down three weeks ago. It was supposed to be a day of celebration, he actually tested out of high school and graduated a year early. He didn’t have to deal with those assholes any more and he could finally get a job and help pay his way for his mother.

Instead, their little Ford Americar was caught in the crossfire between two go-gangs on the highway. He did what he could to help her, waiting for DocWagon to show up, but with his mother only having an employee coverage and he himself wasn’t that banged up… triage put her on the low pole on who was getting treated.

He still remembered how bad she was, the black blood spilling from the wounds in her body, desperately holding a towel to the wound. Gloria Martinez was trying to be brave for her son, but David could see the writing on the wall… she wasn’t going to get off this highway alive.

"You were always special, mijo. Remember what you told me after your first lessons?"

"It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak..." He Awakened when he was eight years old, as an Adept, even. A rarity among rarities, able to tap into an inner well of mystical energy to enhance his body and what it’s capable of doing, it’s also when he started learning how to box, an outlet for his abilities. Coach taught him that while boxing wasn’t like eastern martial arts, the one thing he did agree with the Eastern Masters is that if you had strength, you had to protect those that didn’t.

"... never forget that, keep it in your heart... I love you, David..." She gave his hand one squeeze, before she closed her eyes… and her breath slowed down.

"Mom... mama... please don't go!" The tears were flowing, as his mother died in his arms that hot, stinking day.

He truly was alone.

Though, his melancholy was interrupted by a call on his commlink… he answered with a sigh, knowing exactly who it was.

“Hoi, Davie… how’s my favorite street kid?” Kurt… the only fixer that gave him the time of day over the last couple of weeks, even if the split was less than equitable.

“What do you want, Kurt? And how many times I tell you that it’s David? Not kid, squirt, tiger, and in no way Davie. You ain’t my people.” Talking with Kurt was like getting talked down to, but… it was better than being lost in his own thoughts.

“That anyway too talk to me, omae?” They weren’t friends. Friends wouldn’t split it 65/35. “Whatever, I got a client that needs some second story work done. Think you can proff some merch for me? B & E, it’s your specialty, Davie.”

That was true… Kurt was giving him rookie shadowruns… smash and grabs, breaking and entering, regular burglary.

“You gonna give me any detes…?” He was cut off by the fixer.

“No can do, Davie. Client requested secrecy. I can’t tell ya what it’s about unless you agree to do the run, and even then, it’ll have to be in person.” Couldn’t tell him? That was… unusual.

“Can I think about it?” David asked. He… didn’t do that often, turning Kurt down like this. He was the only Fixer in the Santo district of Coronado that was willing to give him any biz, after all. But all this secrecy surrounding it? That screamed corpo intrigue to him and he wanted nothing to do with it.

“Sure, you got until sundown. If you don’t get back to me, I’ll find someone else. See you around, chummer… and keep your link open.” The call ended with Kurt’s faux friendliness.

“Puta.” David cursed, before remembering that he had some creds burning a hole in his pocket and he wasn’t too far El Rey’s… some tamales would do him some good… and maybe he can convince El Rey to give him some biz.

El Rey, the King, was the big fixer in the Santo district and owned the best Old Mexican place in the whole city… his stomach grumbled and the decision was made and he headed for a late afternoon lunch, soon entering the domain of El Rey, taking a seat at the counter. On the other side, was El Rey himself, wearing that ridiculous wrestling mask of his.

“Davie, what brings you around here…” It was after the lunch rush, but before everyone would be getting some dinner.

“It’s David, sir.” Was the young man’s reply.

“Sure, hermanito. You want some tamales? We got an order of fresh corn, how about some elote?” Both of those sound good.

“Yeah, I’ll take both. And a beer?” He gave the fixer a grin.

“Sure, but I don’t know how your mama would feel about you drinkin’.”

“A single beer ain’t gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, hermanito, but it adds up.” The bottle was presented before him. “Okay, tell the King about your problems?” David picked up the bottle and took a draft from it, before setting it back down.

“I got a comm from Kurt.”

“Kurt’s no good. Not for you, not for the neighborhood, not for those hooligans on Sixth Street.”

“Well, maybe if you gave me biz instead of Kurt, I wouldn’t have to take his calls, would I?” The big man sighed.

“David, you’re too young to be a runner, even if all you're doing is second story jobs for Kurt.”

“I’m tired of being a glorified cat burglar for some trust fund kid from North Oak slumming it up in Santo.” The tamales were placed in front of him, as well as a bottle of homemade mexicali hot sauce. He took another slug from his beer and saw the masked man take his measure.

“Why are you doing this, David? Why not get a real job? Do something safe?” The King was curious, he wanted to know what drove a young man to be a runner that had a roof over his head and a community that supported him. The Ofrenda in the back of the restaurant still had a display for Gloria and would until David asked it be removed.

“I need the money to leave. After DocWagon paid their insurance, a lot went to the funeral, and most of the rest went to six months of rent. I got six months to make as many creds as I can. I gotta leave this drekhole of a city, El Rey. There’s nothing here for me.” It was the absolute truth and it broke his heart, this was his home… this was the city where his great-great-grandfather laid roots. Four generations of Martinez’s helped build Coronado.

“Where do you wanna go then? If you won’t stay here?”

“... I dunno. Spend a few years in ‘Mento, build a rep… and then… Denver? Vegas? Seattle?” That… was dreaming big. To be a shadowrunner in Seattle proper… the Emerald City was where legends were born and died. Better to burn out than fade away, after all.

“Heaven forbid your mama sees what you’re doing, David… but are you any good at it?”

“Any good at what?”

“Proffing.”

“I’m good enough, I’ve done a few runs for Kurt already. Burglary, breaking and entering, smash and grab, you get the idea… Kurt’s jobs have a certain theme to them..” They certainly did, mostly he been proffing small items… go in, get the thing, get out. He saw a piece of electronic paper placed in front of him. “What’s this?”

“Biz.” The man motioned for him to read… a warehouse in Arroyo....

“Aztechnology?” Corpo biz… and Aztechnology, that meant blood sacrifices and obsidian blades and the very real chance of having his heart carved out. Aztechnology was the largest megacorporation in North America, based in the nation of Aztlan, Mexico reshaped in the name of a resurgent Aztec Empire.

They weren’t known for being the forgiving type and were the absolute world leader in mage related tech and they would, in an ironic heartbeat, sacrifice David if they caught him.

“You can’t play at being a runner for long, hermanito… it’s time to stop looking at the lights and go for the pin.”

“You want me to sneak into an Aztechnology warehouse and steal a sacrificial dagger? Who for?” David asked, handing the paper back to the man.

“You know better, David. Mister Johnson will pay very well.” El Rey replied.

“How well?”

“Forty thousand nuyen.” That was very well, that was the exact amount that Doc Wagon paid out for his mother’s accidental death and dismemberment, though less than half of what it was supposed to pay out, but she died off duty.

“Do you want me to bring it to you, or am I going to go straight to the client?”

“Good boy, David. And no, once you proff the dagger and get out of there, gimme a link and I’ll have someone pick you up and we’ll deliver it together.” The electronic paper was then blanked out. “Needs to be done tonight, though.”

“I can manage. I won’t hose this up.” He finished up his meal and his beer, paid for it, and then headed out to get this mission done. 40,000 nuyen would be just enough to get him out to Sacremento… he shook his head as he exited the restaurant, and made his way to Arroyo. Proffing a sacrificial Atzlan dagger from an Aztechnology warehouse?

Should be a simple run, all things considered. All he had to do was avoid getting caught! Getting to the warehouse wasn’t too hard, especially as the baking California sun started to sink beneath the horizon. He flipped the collar of his mother’s jacket up, as he saw the Aztechnology logo on the side of the building. He circled around it, spotting the cameras and the guards, making a plan. There was a fire escape on the side, a couple meters off the ground, but that was well within his ability.

A flex of his knees… and a bit of magic as he felt the flow of mystical energy from his core to his limbs… he took to the skies with a jump and managed to grab onto the second platform of the escape. This was a start. None of the cameras were on him as he crept his way up to the roof, to see if there was a sky light he could slip in further.

“Arctic!” He exclaimed to himself as he spotted his way in, sliding up to the skylight and sliding the window open before dropping down.

He was silent as a cat as he landed on the floor of the warehouse into a crouch. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, as he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so anxious, but this was the highest profile run he was ever on.

That had to be it, as he slipped into the shadows and made his way down to the basement of the warehouse. According to the detes that El Rey had given him, the dagger he was looking for was in the sub basement, meaning he had another floor to go down.

Everything was going his way, as he made his way down… and then got completely blindsided, skidding across the concrete floor of the warehouse basement. He spotted the shimmer in the air that soon formed into the shape of a person. A person that David Martinez recognized.

“... Katsuo Tanaka?” He was incredulous. The last he saw of his high school rival was six months ago, when he finally was fed up with the drek that he was slinging. It was probably the high point of his high school career, in that awful private school his mother sent him to.

After three years of Tanaka calling him gutter trash, street rat, and crust punk, he finally confronted him and asked just what the blue blooded problem with him was and he remembered that the other young man told him that he was lower than the scum that Tanaka scraped off his shoe.

So David asked him what he was going to do about it. That’s how the fight started, as Katsuo Tanaka demonstrated a high level of kung fu skillsofts with his chipped arms.

David had a smile on his face, as he climbed to his feet, remembering how he punched the kid in the stomach then another in his face. Skillsofts didn’t make up for a lack of engagement or experience.

“The one and only, trash! As soon as I spotted you, I could barely contain my glee. Screw the run, I feel like I’ll be more satisfied with revenge!” He looked slick, a chipped in and chromed out razorboy, jandering towards David.

“You still upset about six months ago? That’s one hell of a grudge to hold.” He wiped the blood from his face and smirked, bringing his fists up. “Alright, let’s have a second round, omae!”

The only problem was that as an Awakened Physical Adept, David Martinez had no chrome… all the tech he used was a device of some sort. The contacts he wore, the earbuds, his commlink… even his cybersaftey for the Ares Predator he carried was placed in an initials ring that he wore on his index finger.

Katsuo Tanaka was, on the other hand, a heavily chromed razorboy street samurai, with cyberlimbs, who knew what tech on the inside, skillsofts and knowsofts that David could only guess at, and as became extremely apparent… wired reflexes! He figured that out when Katsuooo crossed the several meter distance between the two of them in the space of a heart beat.

“Magic or no magic, Martinez, meat can’t beat metal!” He managed to kick the street kid and sent him flying, but frowned when the red clad youth corrected his path and managed to land on his feet.

“... you really think that the Azzies aren’t going to carve out what little you got left if they catch us?” David took a moment to center himself. He had a counter to Katsuo’s wired reflexes, but he hadn’t used it much before and hadn’t practiced using the technique all that much..

“Of course! My father is a prominent executive of Renraku! Aztechnology will be more than happy to ransom me. You, on the other hand, are a nobody! The son of a nobody! And I’ll watch as that Aztlan priest carves your heart out with a smile!” They both seemed to blink out of existence, David’s improved reflexes were working overtime to compensate for Tanaka’s Wired Reflexes. It really was a contest of magic back meat vs the best metal money could buy!

They traded blows in the perceptive, slowed down time they were operating in that only a skilled adept or a razorboy could achieve. The problem for David was easily sussed out by the young runner. He could dodge the mixed blows that Katsuo’s skillsofts were feeding into his optimized cyberlimbs. However, the heavier punches he was throwing were just as dodgeable by the upjumped razorboy.

More than that, David had only the mystical well of energy deep within his soul to harden his knuckles to overcome the armor, both worn and subdermal, that his rival was using. He was just as liable to shatter his hand as he was to cause any damage to Katsuo. On the other hand, his rival was using nanocarbon diamond fiber blade knuckles, any number of cyberlimb mounted cyberguns, and whatever other secrets he got packed in his body.

And unlike Katsuo, he was only wearing his mother’s old DocWagon jacket, designed to only be able to withstand small arms fire while retrieving clients. It would not hold up to the thousand plus nuyen cyberweapons that Katsuo was using.

“Fuck it.” He ducked a swing, drew his right arm back… and hit Katsuo with a strong right hook. The impact of the heavy, solid hit was heavy and solid. He felt it in his wrist and fingers, but he didn’t break anything.

On the other hand, he didn’t break anything in Katsuo who was looking down at him with a smirk. “By my calculations, Martinez, you’ll have to hit me another… oh… 100 times, just like that to beat me!” He chortled as he swung a fast kick at the other runner and caught him in the torso, sending David Martinez flying through the air and crashing into a shelf.

It hurt him, it hurt him badly… but nothing felt broken or busted, just bruised.

“Guess what, Martinez? Those same calculations say I only have to hit you five times like that to turn you into a greasy, red smear!” Against a razorboy as chipped in and chromed out like Katsuo Tanaka, some blue blooded punk slumming up in Santo Domingo… David was going to have to fight smart.

He had an idea, see how much physics still affected this punk! He charged again and instead of aiming for his sides or chest or gut… he brought his strong left arm, nearly crackling with magical energy… right on Katsuo’s knee! Sure, he probably couldn’t feel the limb shatter under the blow, but the point was to stop and slow him down. Give David enough time to keep his eyes on the prize!

He couldn’t help but have a satisfied smirk on his face as he heard that frustrated cry as Katsuo toppled over just like an oak tree. He made his way into the sub basement. All he had to do was find the sacrificial dagger… and… of course some Azzie would be showing off the merry murder basement they maintained.

One was a woman dressed in a bright green blazer and smart looking black skirt, her silver hair made up in a tight, professional bun; but other than that looked completely normal. The other was dressed in a traditional Aztlan priest get up.

“... fuck!” They almost certainly heard the fight and they most certainly called for help. But he saw it on the altar. The dagger that was on the paper back at El Rey’s… he could race in, grab it and then exit! He was already using his improved, enhanced reflexes… what was one more use of it?

He went in, he grabbed it, and was on his way out when Katsuo slammed into him again!

“I’m tired of you existing, Martinez!” They traded blows again, David going for a punch… then deciding what the hell and using the dagger in his left hand. Magically treated obsidian should cut right through Katsuo’s metal and mesh!

Unless he slapped it out of his hands!

The blade went flying as the two ducked and dodged, the cybernetically and magically enhanced reflexes of both combatants running down and they were back in regular time. They both looked around and David spotted the Aztlan priest, looking at the both of them… the dagger sticking out of his chest.

“... you… stupid… assholes…” Blood was dripping from his mouth, and he fell backwards onto the sacrificial altar. The woman looked at them, shock written on her face as she was wringing her hands.

“Now… I’m not entirely educated on how Aztlan magic works, but I think this is bad…” The three of them watched as the corpse dissolved into blood, soaking the altar. “We should leave…”

Neither runner had to be told twice, but before any of them could take a single step… a blood red pulse ran through the room. When the light died… there was no living thing in the Aztechnology sub-basement.

Chapter Text

Night City, 2075

He woke up with a choking gasp, his head throbbing with every beat of his heart. He took a centering breath and tried to remember what the hell happened. Right, Katsuo Tanaka, his old highschool rival that he hadn’t honestly given a thorough thought towards for almost six months… and Aztechnology, the number one megacorporation in North America, known for blood rituals and human sacrifice… and how that Aztlan priest got geeked during their fight and…

Yeah, a sacrificial dagger with the sacrifice of an Awakened Metahuman upon a sacrificial altar, the amount of magic produced by such a thing was… well, extreme. He rose to his feet and shook some of the dust off his body and looked around, taking in the sights that he found himself in. Talk about a job gone wrong, usually they just ended with him having to avoid Lone Star badges, but now…?

“Where the fuck am I?” He was in an alley, of course, but he was surrounded by buildings he didn’t recognize at all and he was surrounded by people that… on one hand, he wasn’t one to judge people that decided to get chipped or chromed… but it seemed that everyone was chipped and chromed.

This was getting weird, where the hell was he? He looked around for something, anything that made sense. And then he saw it. He couldn’t believe it, but he saw it. He was on the corner of MLK and Brandon. This… this was Arroyo. He was in Santo Domingo, but… that couldn’t have been possible. Arroyo didn’t look anything like this!

“What the hell is going on?” He felt a migraine coming on, a headache. He was in a fugue and needed to focus again, calm himself down. He closed his eyes, and started to count backwards from ten. It was a good method to center himself when he was feeling uncentered.

“Hey, man! Where’d you get that jacket? That's totally kitsch!” He turned around and someone wearing day-glo neon green pleather drainpipes and an equally retina burning neon pink mesh tank top was approaching him with quite the jander to his step. “... though, with those preem holo logos, it’s probably a custom job?”

“Uh… yeah.” What else could David say to some stranger in this weird gonzo Arroyo, filled with people that look like they’ve had more chips and chrome in them than hot dinners.. “You could say it’s custom. Hey, so… weird as this sounds… you wouldn’t happen to know where I am, would you?”

“What? Your chooms drive you all the way to Night City and dumped you? What a prank, I love it!” The man laughed it off and left David alone, as he was bombarded from all angles by advertisements. Now that he had his bearings a little straighter, he noticed that every single surface that could hold a screen… held a screen and was playing an ad of some sort. Not even back home was this cynical.

Or maybe he wasn’t paying attention.

He put his hands in the pocket of his vibrant red jacket and walked towards where he knew El Rey’s would be, but… with everything else different, he wasn’t sure that he’d find it waiting for him. Really, what he needed was a public dataterminal, and see just where he was. Night City? This was obviously Coronado, but at the same time…

‘Mister Studd? Midnight Lady? MILFGARD?’ he was thinking to himself. Even in Coronado, they never did straight up pornographic adverts like that. Sure, sex sold… but never like this. He couldn’t wrap his head around even the most chromed out razorboy deciding that it was in their best interest to replace their bits and pieces if they hadn’t lost it in an accident.

And even the ones that weren’t using sex to sell their product were instead using violence. Night City, wherever he was, was messed up in ways that Coronado City could only approach in the collective nightmares of the city’s citizens. Brief news reports happened in between ads, talking about cyberpsycho attacks or gang warfare. Sure, Coronado wasn’t a sleepy little town where you could leave your doors unlocked at night, but it wasn’t that violent!

He stood shock still, and looked around at the throng of humanity that was around him when it finally occurred to him the one thing that was on the back of his head, a nagging feeling that wouldn’t let his attention go.

‘Where are all the metas?’ He thought to himself, looking around one more time to make sure he wasn’t wrong. He had noticed that there were no metahumans, metavariants, or metasapients. Even Coronado City, much of a backwater it sometimes felt despite the corporate presence, still had orcs and trolls and elves, but he was seeing none of those. It all went back to that accident at the warehouse… hours or days ago, but… with this not being the Coronado City that he knew, who knows what actually happened!

He rubbed his eyes with his hands, trying to wrap his mind around it. Sacrificial magic wasn’t his forte, even when it came to the mystical arts. He was an Adept, dealing with the enhancement of the human body via mystical means. If he was a proper magician, he could probably figure out what was going on, but…

He shouldn’t focus on who he was or wasn’t, just that he was someplace both familiar and strange. But he did notice that there was a crowd gathering, overlooking the highway. He checked it out, but saw that there didn’t appear to be anything, just barriers lined upon alongside the road.

“It’s the finish line for a street race.” A man beside him said, pointing a few meters down the line. They were older than David, had a cyberarm, and they wore rugged looking clothing, unlike the nylon, rubber, and plastic that seemed popular amongst everyone else. “Problem is, they’ll probably end up blasting clear through, so here’s a better place to pick up the action.”

“The city just lets that happen?” He couldn’t imagine Lone Star letting an illegal street race happen. Lone Star may as well be No Fun Allowed, the Megacorporation and David had a few run-ins with their badges back home, and… didn’t have the best opinion of law enforcement because of it..

“Well, you can grease a lot of palms with the right amount of money.” Of course, he should have known. Enough creds would have even the most clean cut badge look the other way if he has a little extra money that week. Predictable.

“David. Uh… Martinez. David Martinez.” He finally introduced himself to the more informed man, offering a hand.

“Falco. Nice to meet ya.” The two shook briefly.

They both watched as the first of the cars should pass through heading towards the finish line…two of them were at the head of the pack, and they both looked like complete beasts of iron. The car was a dangerous looking thing, like a shark on four wheels and jet black. It was the type of car you’d see corpos drive, or tough guy go-gos… David would love to see him behind the wheel of such a car, once he made a name for himself.

The other? Was a beast of a pickup truck, armor plated, dual rear wheels, and twin exhaust. He could also see himself driving something like that once he got bigger. An ape of a pick up truck, him and his chummers heading towards a run or deciding to hit an Ares convoy. He shook his head, he was getting way too ahead of himself.

He was so distracted that he almost missed for the car to pull out in front of the pick up truck and brake check it. His contacts just picked up the brakes going red-hot as the driver tried to avoid the other vehicle and went careening over to the side, flipping over once… then twice before coming to a stop right across from them.

“Fuck… all’s fair in the race, but that’s foul.” Falco looked over and saw that David had already hopped the barrier… including a three meter drop he took like a champ, practically floating down as he fell. He was heading to the wrecked truck, and popped the door open.

“You alright?” He had a thing about car accidents… or anything that happened on the highway. The woman, she was tough looking and looked like she could handle herself, was responsive.

“I’m fine!” She pulled a knife out of her boot and cut the seatbelt holding her to the seat.

“Can you check my husband?” It looked like the driver and co-pilot were married, and David managed to get the man out from under the steering column of the truck, hitting it with a single strike that caused it to pop open and away from the man.

Within a few moments, both of them were out and David checked the man. He had a pulse, but it was weakening with each second that passed. Ever since his mother died in his arms, on that highway, David took some of the money DocWagon paid out and purchased a pack of 12 trauma slap patches as part of a med-kit. He kept them in a pocket in his jacket. He never had to use them, but he kept them around… just in case.

“Help me get his suit open, we need to stabilize him.” They started to work his suit open, and as soon as they had bare skin… he slapped a patch on his chest.

The man arched his back as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Dean!” The woman called out.

“He’s stabilized, but you gotta get him to a hospital. He has some internal bleeding.” She nodded.

“Thank you… I think you just saved my husband!” The woman was putting on a strong face, even as others came to help the man into the back of a truck. She gave one last look at him, and nodded, before the truck took off to… well, hopefully a doctor. He couldn’t help but smile, actually. Doing good… felt good, always had to the young man.

Besides, it was the duty of the strong to protect the weak, that was practically a mantra that he followed these days.

“David!” Falco was approaching him, having had to come down the long way. “Claire’s not gonna forget that any time soon, I never seen anything like that!”

He looked David over, taking note of the jacket he wore, and the tools he pulled out of the large pockets that it had. He had pulled out a whole medkit from one, that he pulled the slap patches out of..

“You a freelance med-tech?” Falco asked, pointing to the jacket, noting that the red popped in the drab Arroyo sights, without taking into account the holo logos or high visibility strips. “DocWagon is a heck of a thing to call yourself.”

“I’m just a Good Samaritan, Falco. I could help, so I helped. And I had the tools to do so.”

“You don’t see a lot like that in Night City, David. You better be careful, this place likes to chew kids like you up.” Falco could see that David meant well, but… a naive kid like him.

“Look, I appreciate the concern, Falco, but I’m not some kid that’s over his head, I’m a runner, you’ll know.” It was true that David was a shadowrunner, he looked as Falco looked him over, and took his measure, a small frown on his face.

“Aren’t you a little young to be runnin’? Shouldn’t you still be in school or some such?”

“Guy’s gotta eat, Falco. Money doesn’t grow on trees. And if some people need a free lance medic, I can do it if they need it.” That was absolutely true, he may have been the up and coming second story man back home, but it was always his hope to be a medic for a crew when he joined one. Falco rubbed his chin, thinkin’ about it. He was called back to Night City by one of his good friends, and honestly, despite the fact that David didn’t claim to be a med-tech, he had an understanding of what he was doing.

“You lookin’ to run with a crew?” Falco asked, after thinking about it.

“Never ran with a crew before, but I’m… uh… new to Night City.” He wasn’t about to explain to the other man that he wasn’t… native to this… Earth? Realm? There were all kinds of hangups about the truth, but he could use the help in this new world, as well as cash.

On the other hand…

“You’re actin’ pretty friendly to some kid you just met, Falco. How do I know this doesn’t end up with me wakin’ up in a tub of ice missin’ both my kidneys?” It was a fair concern. David wasn’t going to trust the first friendly person that started to help him, but… he did have a good feeling about Falco.

“Ya do got a good head on ya, that’s preem. But nah, I ain’t no scav, and I wouldn’t do you dirty like that.”

“So ka?” David pondered the moment. Falco seemed like he had his head on straight and was friendly enough, and seemed to know the couple that was in the pick up truck that got wrecked. “Yeah, sure. Let’s meet your crew.”

“Nova.” David could see his eyes flash and soon the other man was talking to someone else over a holo call.

“Hey Maine. Yeah, I’m in town. You still lookin’ for a Med-Tech? Ran into a kid that knows what he’s doin’. Said he’s lookin’ for a crew, too. Of course I still know where Turbo’s is… I’ll meet you there, choom.” He walked off, motioning for David to follow him to his car, a mean looking SUV if David had ever seen one, much like that pick up that was trashed only a few minutes beforehand.

David thought about it for a moment, then again, before shrugging and climbing into the passenger seat. They rode to Westbrook in near silence.

“So where you from, David?” Falco asked, as they pulled onto the highway.

“Around.” Was the non-reply that David gave him.

“Is that all you have to say? Around?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, anyway.” Yeah, the last thing David wanted to explain to anyone, until he had proof at least, was that he was from some other world where magic came back some sixty years ago and a stupid ritual during a run he cocked up sent him screaming into a world that was the same, but only in the most trivial of manners.

Thankfully, Falco left it at that, as they continued on their way to the Diner that Maine told him to meet them at. Soon enough, the two were at a booth, waiting for the rest to arrive. David ordered something to drink while they waited.

“So are these friends of yours real, or…?”

“They’re real enough, just have to have patience.” No sooner had Falco spoken, had they heard a powerful engine pull up and stop. In walked a 9 foot tall, chromed out razorboy and… well, David could only guess that the woman in the pink trench coat was a decker, which made sense. They were probably going to do a background check on him, and then when they found there was nothing on him, probably take him on purely for being a patsy.

“Long time no see, Choom. Who’s your friend?” Falco greeted the large man, who could only be Maine.

“Falco, dawg, nice to see you again. This,” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, as he took up almost the entirety of the booth, to the woman. “Is Kiwi, one of the runners on my crew.”

David could see her eyes flicker between red and orange as she looked over him, quirking a blonde brow.

“Issat so?” Maine turned to face David. “Kiwi says you ain’t got no chrome. Personal choice? Raised by neo luddites?”

“Does it matter that I’m not chipped? Falco says you're looking for a medic, I can do that if you need me too.” Besides, his medkit could do all the scanning he needs if they bring him on.

“Yeah, sure. But I need to know if you can fight, choomba. That shootin’ iron you carry just for show? Or do you know how to use it?” He motioned to the gun David was carrying on his hip. He wasn’t much for shooting, but he carried the Ares Predator V because it made for a good intimidation tactic. Just showing off that he had it, was enough to get gonks talkin’. And drawing it on somebody? Made people real friendly when looking down the barrel of the smartgun.

“I know how to use it, but I’m more of a… up close and personal type of guy.” He brought his hand up and formed a fist. “Been learnin’ how to box since I was 8.” He didn’t know where to start on explaining his other abilities, but… he didn’t trust Falco nor Maine to throw him in a looney bin after he said he could use magic. Nor did he feel the need to tell him that any accuracy with his gun was almost entirely the gun’s doing.

“I don’t know, Maine. This kid is thoroughly unknown. Nothing on NCPD or any corporations, and there’s the fact that he doesn’t even have chip sockets.” The Woman, Kiwi said from where she was standing behind Maine.

“Your decker upset that she can’t cause my brain to melt outta my ears through a camera?” David said, motioning his head over to Kiwi. She narrowed her eyes, but Maine let out a laugh.

“Decker? I like that. Makes a lot more sense than runner, at least!” He slapped the table, then calmed himself. “Alright, choom. You’re somethin’ else, David, but if Falco says you can do it, I believe him. I might not agree with you bein’ 100% meat, but if you make it work, then you can make it work.”

“Thanks, chummer.” They clinked their beer bottles together in a toast, as Maine laughed again.

“Chummer, decker… your lingo may be out there, but fuck I love it!” He slapped the table again, with an even bigger laugh. “Man, this is the start of somethin’ beautiful. I can feel it!” He had an in with the big man, that was good.

“I hate to sound ungrateful, Maine… but I could use an advance on my first cut. I ain’t got nowhere to stay.” All he needed was to stay at some out of the way motel or somethin’ for a few days, find a fixer, do a run or three and he could pay it all back.

“Ain’t got that much scratch on me, choom, but I’m sure someone on the crew can put’cha up for the night.” He looked over to Falco, who shook his head.

“I’m currently livin’ in the back of my truck at the moment. Kinda cramped with just me.” Falco said, holding up both hands.

“He can’t stay with me an’ the input. He’ll be up all night from the sound of our sweet, sweet lovin’!” David… really didn’t need to hear that, in all honesty. Maine turned to look at Kiwi, who had just lit up a cigarette.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, her voice sounded… too clear for someone wearing a mask. She looked from Maine then to David then back to Maine. “No.”

“Why ya gotta refuse, Kiwi. You got that two bedroom deal. He ain’t gotta see you at all!”

“I’m not some babysitter.” She narrowed her eyes, glaring at Maine

“Kid just said he could take care of hisself.” Maine looked at her, shrugging as one hand pointed at David.

“Put him up with Rebecca and Pilar then.” She motioned to David with her head, her cigarette smoking.

“The siblings would eat him up like kibble.” Maine quirked an eyebrow. “And before you suggest Lucy, she’ll do more the same, like one of them ol’ nature virtus on spiders or praying mantises.” He looked over to David, waggling his eyebrows.

“That sound like somethin’ you want upon the Columbarium, dawg? Here lies David Martinez, his virgin ass was fucked to death?”

“Err… no, not really.”

“Nah, nah, what you need is an ol’ mama lion, like Kiwi here. She can set you straight.” Maine turned and spotted that the woman was already walking away, flipping them off.

“Kiwi, don’t be like that. It was just a joke, you thought I was gonna have some no name shack up with you? Ugh, fine… I’ll flick you some for an apology.” His eyes finished glowing from the impromptu call.

“You know, it’s fine. If she doesn’t want me to know where she lives or whatever, it’s fine. Like I said, I can take care of myself.” How, he wasn’t sure, but he’ll have to make do.

“Tell ya what, I can at least do this.” He pulled out a roll of bills and passed them over. “125 eurodollars, should keep you fed. As for more, you can figure it out on your own. We meet up in three days at Afterlife. Tell Em you’re with Maine.” Maine left. As did Falco, but thankfully the other gentleman paid the tab.

David Martinez was back to square one, well, just a bit better than square one. If he could survive on his own for three days, he could meet up with the rest of the team and finally show him he isn’t some rookie to all this. Still, he finished his beer and he finished the sandwich that he ordered and headed back out into the Night City evening. From what he knew from the trids, shadowrunner crews were sometimes friends, sometimes family, but Maine’s crew didn’t even seem to like each other all that much. Perhaps that was just his first impression. Perhaps once he got to know them, he’d see them as the chummers he hoped they were.

During the day, the ads were loud and just about unbearable. Now that a twilight gloom had started to sink into the city, they were still loud and still unbearable and now he didn’t have the sun to keep most of the more stupid ones out of his sight. Still, he was fed, so he could survive the night. He just had to find something to lay his head in or on.

He wasn’t all that picky, which was why he found a… cleanish and non-stinky dumpster, a heroic challenge that was only completed well after the sun had fully set. It was perfect, it would keep the elements off of him if it started or rain and he wouldn't be woken up by the ads that seemed to be playing 24/7 in this drekhole of a city.

He fell into an uneasy sleep, trying not to focus on how his sleeping arrangements were less than ideal for himself… and trying to keep the nightmares from bothering him too much. It had been the same, almost every night for the last three weeks. His mother, dying in his arms… only to open her eyes and tell him that he should have done more, that he could have done more, that he was too weak to protect anybody.

It wasn’t the light drizzle of rain, or the light and noise from the constantly spitting ads.

No, no, no… he was woken up, what felt like hours later, by a bunch of Russian speaking bastards that thought they found some prize sleeping’ in the dumpster, drawn by the noise of his tossing and turning in such an uncomfortable confine he found himself in. He didn’t speak much of the language, or any at all really, but he had an ear for when people were upset and cursing. Their faces obscured by holomasks, one started slappin’ the other, both wearing either cheap or expensive designer tracksuits. It was really hard to tell when it came to that particular fashion sense.

“Vitaly, you suka! This one doesn’t have any chrome, how can we be making money sellin’ his implants if he has no implants!?” The taller one shouted at his fatter comrade. The other was smiling under his mask.

“Vladimir, moy brat! He might not have any implants worth taking, but he still has good kidneys, no?” Okay, he had heard enough of their banter, he wasn’t going to let them cut his organs out There were only two of them, their small courier van lighting up the dark alley. They probably planned to pull him out, sock him out cold, then drive him to wherever they had the ice and meat hooks, ready to harvest.

Or worse things, if the gossip he overheard before he bunkered down was anything to go with. He might have had a thing when it came to simsense cards when he was younger, but he avoided snuff like the plague it was.

Lucky for him, though, the two gonks were completely unaware that he wasn’t as out as they thought he was. He could use this to his advantage, as long as he could keep himself quiet. They already had pulled him out of the dumpster and looked like they were scanning him, but right now? They were paying too much attention to each other.

He got to his feet, rolled his neck, drew his mighty right arm back and as the two idiots kept talking… punched the both of them, one after the other. A right hook and a left jab, just like Coach showed him on his first day at the gym, almost ten years ago.

They both fell with a satisfying crunch.

And bonus! They both had a couple dozen Eurodollars on their bodies. Score, it was a start. With the 125 he already had and now another 90… well, he wasn’t swimming in cash, but it was a start. Big things come from small beginnings, after all. Whether it be wealth or reputation

A quick check of his commlink told him it was four in the morning, which was… still really late, but he had some sleep and the crick in his neck was something else… he wasn’t going back to sleep, not anytime soon. Maybe this afternoon, he could find bench to lie on and catch some z’s in a park or something

He walked around, a bit, still shocked that the city was still so lively as late as it was… or early, some people had weird hours, but an entire city’s worth? Hands in pocket, sleeves rolled up, he was just taking in the bright neon sights. Three days he had to meet Maine and the rest of his crew at some dive bar that just happened to be called the Afterlife.

Three days until he could prove himself. Three days till build the smallest of reps. Three days to round up some creds so he won’t get accosted by organ sellers sleeping out in the streets. He didn’t realize how much worse it could be when he passed a trio of the most borged out sons of bitches he ever met. Of course he couldn't help but stop and stare at the freaks. Some of them didn’t have faces any more. Even Katsuo Tanaka, the most chromed up person he had the misfortune of meeting, still had a damn face.

This was a mistake, of course, as they noticed him staring and their red, multiple glowing eyes locked onto him. Snarling maws filled with jagged metal teeth. They didn’t just not like him, they were offended that he existed. He could feel the hatred in their gaze.

“He lacks the blessings… he has no metal!” The first one had to be the ugliest of the three, with five bright red eyes making up much of his face.

“He’s nothing but meeaaaaat!” The second wasn’t much better, in all honesty, he just had a single huge eye in the middle of his brow, like some kind of cyber cyclops.

“SACRILEGE!” The third was a woman, barely. She was absolutely hideous, bits and pieces of cybernetic cables and wires sticking up through her skin

They drew chains, bats, and one of them had a machete as they charged at him. David frowned, put his hands up… and let the magic flow through him as everything slowed down to a standstill. He stepped between two of them, punching one in the neck, before turning around and flowing with his left slamming his fist into the other’s temple… before stepping up to the third one and getting him with a head butt…

When his magically enhanced reflexes and perceptions finally wound down as he came back to real time… the three fell down into a crumpled heap, but he left them breathing. He wasn’t sure if that was a mistake at this point, but even back home he tried not to leave any stiffs. And much like the scavengers, he checked for creds and found himself 75 eurodollars richer!

“Maybe I could just walk around, beat the shit out of these goons, and pocket the loot…” He idly thought to himself as he counted just how much he had. Just under 300 eurodollars. Not bad for less than an hour of work. He wandered around the area a bit more, what was labeled as Megabuilding H8. One of twelve housing units in Night City. Arcologies, by any other name, housing hundreds of thousands of people all over Night City. That was the other thing that separated Night City from Coronado City… Coronado wasn’t big enough to have arcs, much less twelve of the bastards.

It also didn’t have a cloister of eastern monks living in it this far away from the local temple just outside city limits. He politely greeted them, and they invited him to join them for morning prayer. He… politely declined, but they also invited him to join them for their small breakfast, and if he didn’t have to pay for it, early as it was, then that was fine with him.

“Might it be too much, Brother Martinez, for you to join us for morning meditation after our breakfast?” The Elder Brother asked, as their light repast was shared amongst the half dozen monks and one shadowrunner.

“I don’t mind participating in the meditation, Elder Brother. I just… I’m not Buddhist, wouldn’t feel right, yanno, taking part in your prayers.” David explained, as he ate his bowl of… well, it was gruel, he knew it was gruel, it tasted like gruel, but it was filling at least. “I’m always in need of centering. Didn’t think I would find the opportunity to do so while I was out here.”

What wasn’t fine with him, however… was when a bunch of badly dressed punks showed up to harass the monks, calling them every name under the sun and insulting their choice to be as chrome free as possible.. Sure, he wasn’t buddhist himself, but he wasn’t about to let a bunch of morons ruin their day.

“Hey, omae… why don’t you and your chummers take your 1 dollar haircuts and get the hell out of here, so ka?” Probably not the politest thing to say.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, choom?” The lead idiot said, looking incredulously at David. “I’ll have you know this is a 100 eddie haircut! The best money can buy!”

“If that’s the best money can buy, that makes ya dumb an’ ugly.” David replied, smirking. He wanted to get all the heat onto him, make sure that they focused on him and not the monks that weren’t hurting no one. Sure, he was being a complete jerk about it, but it got the needed response!

They all charged at him, but they may as well have been moving in slow motion, with the way he weaved between them, letting them hit themselves and get even more pissed. His constant mockery of their ability to fight, their stupid bright clothing, and that they only felt strong attacking a bunch of pacifists did not make David Martinez any friends.

That was okay. He wasn’t looking to make friends tonight, but the punks that he was fighting? They had plenty of friends, as they came up to them on motorbikes! The only thing David could do was offer a bow of apology to the Eldest Brother, and lead the punks on a merry chase in the early morning. Some people actually ran around for fun, who in their right mind would do that?

It was the duty of the strong to protect the weak. He kept those words in his heart, just like his mother told him. Sure, he didn’t know the monks at all, but he wasn’t going to stand around and do nothing. The Sixth World was as unforgiving to those that just stood and watched as much as it was to those that interfered. He ducked down an alley, dodging the morons and entered through an unlocked door.

He could feel eyes on his back and turned and saw that he was in some kind of shop. The sales girl behind the counter looked like she just got out of bed, yawning from where she was standing. It was almost seven from the clock on the wall, and there was so much… stuff. It really was an Awakened hidey-hole in here, looking around he could see all kinds of things that a magician back home would fill a shop or a study. He actually recognized some of the things that were set up, whether it was the statue set up in the back with the incense burners, or the various geometric mudra posters. He felt… at ease while here, safe.

“Welcome to Misty’s Esoterica and Chakra Harmonization. How can I help you?” She was a nice looking woman, her make up applied especially well, dark circles making her eyes pop. She wore a spiked collar around her neck and her sweater was torn in a very deliberate fashion. What was that she said? Chakra harmonization? Finally, something that made sense in this backwards world.

“Actually…” David started. “I think you can be a big help for me.”

Chapter Text

Night City, 2075

“Alright, a single harmonization is going to set you back 100 eddies…” The woman behind the counter was adding up what David had requested, all things considered, from the prices he had already seen on the deluge of ads and at Turbo’s, it was a pretty good price for what amounted to spiritual centering.. “We can also do some meditation, that’s another 25… and I can throw in a free Tarot reading.”

“That sounds great, Misty. Thanks.” It’s just what he needed, some centering. And it turned out that the girl at the counter wasn’t just some shop girl, but the actual owner of the shop! He was led to one of the two chairs, and he found himself relaxing. It felt like he had a chance to sit for the first time in a long time.

“Wow!” She had barely placed a hand on him, noticing right away the thrumming mystical well of magical energy that was the font of his soul. “You have… a lot of free flowing energy, David… I just…”

“You’re sensitive to that sort of thing, huh?” To think in this messed up world of chrome and insanity, he’d find some normalcy in the universe. If he was to guess, back home Misty would have been an extremely low level magician, one you saw on the corner doing palmistry and tarot readings, but here in Night City, she may as well have been one of the strongest mages in the world.

“Always have been, people say it’s nothing but a bunch of bunk, but I’ve never been wrong in my predictions and I can feel the energy in other people. Even my input thinks it’s nothing but a bunch of New Age nonsense, but…” She trailed off, even as she lit a few sticks of incense and placed them in each of the upper arms..

“Nah, I get it. People believe what they need to believe.” David shrugged. “And I believe in this. Thank you again, Misty.” He knew what to expect, harmonization was one part talk therapy, one part spiritual centering. Or at least the version he was familiar with was.

“You’re very welcome. Now tell me what’s bothering you?” Oh, where to start. He took a deep breath. He would have to tell her some of the truth, but he’d leave out the more fantastical elements of it. His Awakening to the Sixth World, the various metahumans he was friends with in his part of Coronado City, the fact that he was from another Earth entirely. The little things.

“It probably all started three weeks ago. I was… my mother scraped and saved and suffered to make sure that I went to a good school. Private academy where all the shaikujin send their brats off too. I tested into the school, but the scholarship only covered so much.” They were such assholes and he put up with them for three long, grueling years. He had the patience of a saint.

“So you were the poor kid, ostracized by his richer school mates. A sad story.” Hearing Misty say it, it was really sad. They had the opportunity to raise him up, to make him a peer and comrade, instead they decided to flaunt their wealth and put him down to make themselves feel better.

“If only I was ostracized. I was the street trash they were forced to interact with on a daily basis.

“They couldn’t ignore me like they could the unwashed masses on the streets.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “They didn’t like me, and the feeling was mutual.”

“Private school turned into a school of hard knocks, didn’t it?” She had him figured out. With all those jerks that he had to go to school with, he was surprised he managed to learn anything.

“I suppose you could say that. I only got into a few scuffles with them, but they would needle me until I lashed out and of course the teachers would always take their side.” It was a bad memory, as he let himself slip down to their level, but he sat up. “You know what! Six months ago, I finally went and taunted the biggest of the bastards into making the first move and I broke his nose for his trouble.”

“Did that make you feel good, David? Getting that kind of revenge?” Misty asked David, noting down what he was telling her.

“Not good, satisfied. He was the worst of the bullies, but showing him up like that…” He nodded to himself. “But I think that was the beginning of the end for me, though.”

“Oh? Could you explain, please?” She was curious, but at the same time leading him to talk at his own pace. This was part of the process, getting him to talk with her about what she needed to know

“After that happened, I basically threw myself into studying. I wanted to get out of that school as soon as I could, but they offered the ability to test out. Full graduation.” It was one of his proudest moments, and he had never seen his mother so happy when they finally got the results. He was done, finished, no more schooling unless he felt like going to college and as smart as he was, he didn’t see that in the picture even if the accident didn’t happen.

“Did you manage to test out? Did you pass?”

“With flying colors. We were going out to celebrate, me and my mom.” He swallowed hard. He hadn’t talked to anyone about this since the day it had happened. “Our little car got caught on the highway in a shootout between a pair of go-gangs.” His eyes felt wet.

“I… see.” There wasn’t much else that she could say, what do you tell someone that just told you that they lost their mother in a bout of gang violence.

“She died in my arms, but before she did, she told me that I was special.” He was special. He was the son of Gloria Martinez, he had a good head on his shoulders, and he was a physical adept, able to master energies that regular people could only dream about.

“Have you had time to mourn properly?”

“What’s that even mean, mourn properly? There was a funeral, and a local restaurant even had an ofrenda dedicated to her. The whole community came out to say goodbye to my mother.” How dare she ask that. Mourn properly, his mother was a pillar of the community and her loss, even three weeks later was still felt, as she used to do check ups on the young ones, and helped the elderly with their medicine. And yet, he didn’t feel angry or indignant, as he thought over Misty’s words.

“I’m not asking about the rest of the community, David. I’m asking about you, have you had the opportunity to mourn correctly? To compartmentalize your loss.” Misty asked, putting a hand on his. David thought about it… in the three weeks, he had non-stop work with Kurt and doing anything else that wasn’t thinking about his mother.

“No… no I haven’t.” He just… there was so much else on his mind, so much more that he wanted to focus on. He needed to make sure that he could survive, he had to get money, he had to take care of himself, there was so much that he had to do that no seventeen year old should be asked to do, and yet that was exactly what the world asked of him, too fast and too soon.

“It’s okay, David. You can cry.” She was soothing him, with her kind words.

“But I have to be strong… it’s the only thing…” David could feel a tear slide down his cheek, followed by many more. He was crying, why was he crying? He shouldn’t… not in front of someone he barely knew, he couldn’t let her think he was weak, baring his soul to her unbeckoned.

“Crying doesn’t make you weak, David. You are suffering through loss, you need an outlet. It’s okay, I’m here for you.” He had never felt so vulnerable then he did right now, gone was the rookie runner with a chip on his shoulder and in his place was a young man that had just lost his mother and was lost in a world that was not kind to people like him.

“Sssssh… I’m going to count back from ten, I need you to relax and free yourself. 10… 9… 8… 7…” He found himself relaxing as she counted backwards, as his eyelids felt heavier and heavier and then… sleep over took him.

It was the first time in the last three weeks that he had soundless, dreamless sleep. No, not dreamless. He did dream… he dreamt of happier times with his mother… he dreamt of lazy days in the park… late night rooftop stargazing… he dreamed of looking at the Moon and telling his mother that he was going there, one day.

He woke with a yawn, stretching as the chair brought him back to a sitting position. He felt… better than he had ever had in the last month. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, a heavy anvil he didn’t know he was carrying, all thanks to Misty. As he stood up out of the chair, he saw Misty chatting up some big fellow, they both turned and saw him get up.

“Hey, Misty… never thought I’d see some hermanito gettin’ treated by ya.” The man pointed at David, who walked up to the counter. He was big, with a top knot hairstyle, but his jacket hung on his huge frame quite well… he was built, though the young shadowrunner couldn’t tell if it was synthetic or natural, but he had the same metal threading that he saw plenty of others as well as those chip sockets that were in vogue.

“Hola.” He greeted. “You must be Misty’s uh… input?” Seemed very… clinical to call your boyfriend that. Or your girlfriend an output. Distant, too. It was someone you loved, why use such a crass term?

“Not just, I’m Misty’s mainline. Jackie Welles!” He offered a fist to bump and David accepted the offer. “That jacket’s pretty sweet, you some kind of med-tech?” He was getting that question a lot, but what else should he expect when he was wearing a shirt that proudly declared himself DocWagon. Seemed he’d have to get used to it.

“... yeah, sure. Some kind of med-tech, chummer. You?” If it turned out that he was talking to some gangster, he wouldn’t be surprised, but on the other hand, he didn’t appear to be sporting any colors and he didn’t think Misty to be the type to date an out and out criminal.

“Solo merc, baby. One of the best in the biz. Mama always complained that I kept Morgan Blackhand’s book on soloin’ closer to me than the Biblia, but I’m sure you know how mama’s can be.” Jackie explained. “Anyway, I was just goin’. Got some work I need doin’ outside of the City and I won’t be back for a few weeks. I’ll getcha somethin’ nice, Misty!”

He walked out of the door, waving to the woman before hopping on his motorcycle and taking off, peeling down the road and turning around the corner, the engine of his bike howling in the valley of steel and glass that made up the various roads of .

“He seemed nice. You worried about him?” Misty seemed like the type that would worry about her boyfriend crossing the street on a busy day of traffic, she seemed the type of person that was a worrier.

“David, if I was worried about Jackie, I wouldn’t have started dating a mercenary. He’s good at what he does and he always comes back home. I just pray that he comes back hale and hearty.” She sighed, then smiled. She had a nice smile, and David didn’t mind that he was wrong initially. It was nice to know that Misty could take things like that instride. “You still have your tarot reading, but first… how are you feeling?”

“Better. I had… I didn’t realize how badly I was treating myself. How I wasn’t…” He wasn’t sure how to word this, all he knew was that he needed to care more for himself than worrying about how other people thought about him, or trying to grind himself into dust to survive.

“You weren’t allowing yourself closure, because that would accept that she’s gone.” It was terribly true, he was avoiding the elephant in the room, the urn that held his mother’s ashes, the fact that she was gone and she wasn’t coming back.

“Yes! That… thank you, Misty. It’s the first time in weeks I haven't had nightmares.” She smiled at him, as she shuffled her tarot deck. David was briefly entranced by the motions made by her delicate fingers. She was good at what she did, as proven by his experience earlier, how she seemed to soothe his soul with a few words and some incense.

“That’s what I’m here for, David. Spiritual healing at its finest.” She finished shuffling her cards. “Now this is going to be a simple, free reading. Five cards, that are about yourself. Is that fine?” Five card arrays for Tarot Reading, last he looked when he was back at Coronado City was as basic a reading as one could get, and it was free! He wasn’t going to complain.

“You’ve done a lot for me already, Misty… it’s fine.” He took a deep breath and he was ready for what the cards would tell him. He was familiar that, originally, tarot cards were accepted as telling you what you already knew to be true, that you just needed an outside source to confirm it, but with the resurgence of magic, that changed. On the other hand, the Earth that Night City was in seemed to lack any sort of magic at all.

She laid them out, one after the other… before going back to the first and flipped it over. She made a small sound, like the clicking of her tongue, as she revealed the Fool. David should have realized, of course the Fool would have been involved in any reading for himself. He knew enough that the Fool usually symbolized the main character when it was used in those anime trids he used to watch as a kid

“Don’t worry about what the cards mean, they can change their meanings depending on the person, but the Fool is usually the start of the Hero’s Journey. He’s young, impetuous, ready to take on the world. Sound familiar?” Now that she said it, it fit him like th black t-shirt he was wearing. Snug, close to his skin. He was only taking on the world, though, because the world was challenging him.

“Certainly does, that describes me to a T.” He watched as she flipped over the second card and he had to stop himself from sucking in a breath. The Magician. That was a bit too on the nose. It’s like the cards knew he was from the Sixth World, a place where magic was real, and one had to worry about making deals with a Dragon. Not only that, he was special… he had abilities that were alien to Night City.

“I think you know what the Magician means, don’t you David? It means that you’re special, unique and have many gifts. You’ll need these for your journey.” He supposed he was special. Far as he knew, he was the only adept in Night City. She flipped the third card. The Star.

“The Star represents hope and healing.” She looked up at him. “I think we’ve started that already, don’t you agree.”

“I do. And I can’t thank you enough.” Plenty of healing happened that morning, as he came to terms with what he was going through, compartmentalized it, and realized… that it was alright to feel for his loss instead of just bottling it up. The third card was turned over.

“Justice… an odd choice, I think.” She looked to the young shadowrunner from the card, it almost looked like she was trying to get his measure, but that couldn’t have been in.

“It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak…” David murmured, the one thing that his first teacher taught him was that most important phrase that he treated more like a way of life, but Misty caught it and nodded along. He felt his ears burn with embarrassment, Night City was far more cynical than Coronado City was, at the worst of times.

“With an outlook like that, of course Justice would fit you so well.” Finally, the fifth card was turned over. The Tower, in the upright position. David knew enough about the Tarot to know that it wasn’t good to have the Tower drawn on you. It meant change, it meant disaster, it meant… it meant a lot of things.

“The Tower. I’m sure you think you know what this means, but I can tell you how it should mean to you. It means all the pain that you’re holding in yourself? You should let it go. See the Star? The hope and healing she provides? The Tower tells you to accept it, that you need not hold it inside you any more.” The reading was done, but David had a lot to think about. He laid down the 125 eddies that all of this cost.

“Thank you, Misty. I… I feel a lot better than I had before.” He felt, earlier, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, but now he felt like he was told where he was going. That he was on the right path, that what he did was the right thing for him and his well being.

“Don’t be a stranger, David. If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here for you.” He waved at her, as he left… a lightness to his step he didn’t know he still had. He was ready to take on this whole city. He still needed to find a fixer that would give him the time of day. He just needed a few gigs, something easy that he could do so he didn’t have to spend another night in a dumpster.

Once he met up with Maine and the rest of the crew, he could start pulling his own weight, start making some real money, and then figure out where to go from here. One step at a time and all. But before any of that happened, Misty caught his attention once more.

“Hey, David! You said you were a med-tech, right?” Misty called from the store. He was… only barely a medic, but that was close enough. Not that he had a chance to be a medic, he was only good at binding any wounds he took on his runs, which he of course avoided as getting hurt as much as possible.

“Something like, why? Do you have an idea?” And that was how David Martinez found out that Misty Olszewski was more than just a new age spiritual healer, but actually a nurse for a back alley street doctor, one Viktor Vektor.

“Doctor Viktor? Are you busy?” Misty called, as she opened the security gate. They found the doctor at a desk, watching an old boxing match on a display.

“Oh, Misty… another customer? You usually call before you send them down.” He turned to face both of them. The doctor was an older gentleman, with sleeve tattoos on both of his arms, and he was some string bean tied together, he had defined arms, and probably a mean right hook if David was to be any guess.

“Not really a customer. David just finished a session, but he has ambitions on being a medtech.” Misty explained, telling the doctor what David had told her about how he wanted to fit alongside other edgerunners in a crew.

“It’s not an ambition, it’s just my niche. Some people are street samurais, some people are deckers or riggers. Everyone needs a healer, yanno?” David added. The doctor looked him over, hemming and hawing.

“You don’t have any chrome, huh? Personal choice?” He asked, walking around David, noting that the young man was lacking even the most rudimentary amount of chrome and cyberware. It was an odd choice in this day and age, even odder in a place like Night City.

“You could say that, yeah. Just didn’t like the idea of getting a neck piercing, and my mother never pushed for it.” The real reason would be too out there for them. He’d find himself in an insane asylum if he told them that he didn’t have any chrome because it would affect his ability to use magic.

“Not sure what I think about the handle. DocWagon. Makes you sound like a low rent Trauma Team, but you need to stick out in this world.” He went back to his stool. “How long have you been fighting?”

“Excuse me, sir?” He hadn’t expected the doctor to ask him that, he was expecting more questions about his lack of cyberware.

“Boxing, how long have you been training?” That surprised David, that the doctor could tell he was a brawler as quickly as he did. Saw right through him, that Doctor Viktor Vektor.

“Almost a decade, since I was eight.” He couldn’t help but roll his shoulders back and puff out his chest. He was proud of the work he put into his training, into his life. Boxing was going to be the thing that got him out of Santo Domingo, though his mother told him he was going to get his education before he could consider fighting professionally.

“Y’any good?” David could feel the ripperdoc’s appraising eyes looking him up and down.

“I like to think so, yeah.” He felt confident with his abilities. He was… surprised when he saw the good doctor motion to the heavy bag in the corner of his surgery.

“Well, go ahead, let’s see a 1-1-2, then.” This felt like a test, as Vik was asking David to do a jab jab cross combo, but he wasn’t directly asking him. He shed his jacket off and put it on a hook by the security.

“Sure… simple.” He sized up the bag… and threw two left jabs before finishing with a right cross, his fists impacting against the heavy, sand filled bag. “Pretty good, eh?”

The doctor sniffed. “You got a good foundation, I’ll give you that, but you don’t step into your jabs as much as you should and don’t turn your hips enough.” He really felt that. If he was to be honest, he wasn’t training as much as he possibly could. When you have a mystical super powered body, you find strengths overcoming deficiency in skill.

“Viktor, what about seeing how good a med-tech he could be?” Misty was still present. “He’s meeting a crew in three days, right?” She looked over to David.

“Uh, yeah. They said they needed a medic, and my mother was a paramedic. Taught me some field medicine.” David offered as he explained what his plans were. Falco seemed pretty alright and Maine… well he would just have to prove himself to the crew leader.

“Well, I can see what you know or don’t know.” The doctor had a smile on his face, as he went over to his cabinets. What followed was a series of tests for field medicine. Viktor Vektor looked over David’s work in field splinting, stitches, and cleansing and dressing wounds. He even tested him on his ability to see what was wrong with someone without a scanner or a medkit.

“I’m surprised, David… X-Ray hands are rare indeed in Night City.” Viktor Vektor was impressed at least. “Being able to diagnose internal bleeding or broken bones with just a touch… you sure you want to be a runner and not working in a clinic?” Vik asked, wanting to make sure that running was just what David wanted to do. He had a talent in him, other than fighting and Vik wanted to allow it to grow.

“Even runners need health care, Vik.” David replied, they were sitting in the alley outside of the office, eating lunch. Bad news, he still didn’t have a fixer to get work from. Good news, Vik was letting him stay at the clinic until he met up with his crew and in the meantime, was letting him observe him work, and getting some tips with the Sweet Science.

“And thanks, you’re taking a real gamble on me, Vik.” The ripperdoc laughed.

“Not as much as you think, kid. Used to be that I was part of that same world you seem so intent on joining. It's a world that only cares about who’s who and what’s what.” He finished off his take out.

“So why’d you quit?” Viktor Vektor, if he wasn't blowing smoke, was a shadowrunner! Used to be, but why did he walk away? The thrill, the wealth, heck… the fame! Once you got a rep for being a good merc, the money just started to flow in for you!

“Lotta reasons. I was never gonna be a legend in this town, so I left… took what I knew and applied it to something people needed. Since then? I’ve slept easy. Wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.”

“And now you make a livin’ sellin’ chrome to those same runners that are doin’ what you tried to do?”

“Not just runners, kid. It takes all types. Did you meet Jackie?” Vik asked, talking about the big man that was Misty’s boyfriend.

“Briefly. Some mercenary that was going out on a mission?”

“I did his work, and his corporate friend slash benefactor. I do good work, and I charge accordingly for those that wanna go fight gangs or rob corpos. Some guy comes in, arm hanging off by a thread, though?”

“He get a discount?”

“He gets a discount because of the people that come in and want milspec armachrome to be mercs payout the nose for the best of the best.” He cracked open a beer, as he finished his take out. “What about you kid? Why do you do this?”

“Shadowrunnin’ is the only way to make money that isn’t being some wageslave for the corpos. A happy salaryman that lives, breathes, and dies for their employer. I don’t want that life. At least I’m free when I’m runnin’.” David explained. Vik grunted at the term shadowrun, sounded like he was unfamiliar.

‘You and me both.’ David thought to himself sardonically. Everyone was unfamiliar with his lingo, and he was unfamiliar with the whole world. A radio played in the alley, the news coming on and mentioning that another set of bodies had been found, this time in Westbrook, all bearing the markings of another Night City Reaper slaying.

David turned to Vik. “There a story there?”

“What? The Reaper? Who knows what the story is, just that six months ago, someone’s been stalking around Night City and killing people. Gangers, civilians, even cops. No one knows who it is, just that victims are found sliced to ribbons or shot or any amount of awful ways to go. Worst was a few weeks ago, several apartments in Megabuilding H2 were visited by the Reaper. Went off prime numbers, nasty business.” Vik explained. “It’s really bad, all of it. NCPD puts out a statement every time another killing happens, almost every three days, all over the city. One killing might just be a single work in Northside, then the next is a Sixth Street house party out in Rancho...” That was not something that David was expecting. A serial killer? Coronado sometimes had gang violence and the like, but it never had someone stalking the streets in search of blood.

Well, except for that rumored vampire 20 years, but that was both before his time and solved when the whole of the city got together to find the blood drinking monster that was feeding off them.

He turned to David, and looked at him sternly. “I don’t think you’re high enough in the world to go after something like that, Kid. Leave it to the Night City’s finest to try and find that monster.” David nodded. A serial killer did not seem like something he wanted to get involved in just yet. They finished their meal and once again went down to Viktor’s workspace.

“Now where did I put that little bastard…” Vik started rummaging around a dustier corner and pulled something out. “There we go. Meet your new sparring partner, David.” It was a robot covered with a few pads made of leather strategically placed over its body. Places that a human boxer could land a blow and not end up shattering his hand or breaking his wrist.

“You want me to fight a boxing robot?”

“Not fight, spar. You want to be the best, right?” Well, that went without saying.

“Ch’yeah. Who doesn’t, chummer?” What kind of gonk question was that?

“It’ll be good practice for you.” Between the two of them, they managed to get the sparring robot closer to where the heavy bag was. The damn thing felt like it weighed a ton, and he was surprised they weren’t using a dolly or a jack to move it, but it looked like Vik was able to carry the lion’s share of the weight of the sparring partner!

“You’re doing an awful lot for a kid you just met, Vik.” David said as they moved the robot.

“Lost orphan in Night City, not knowing where to go and what to do? Helping you is good karma. Could use some of it myself when I was your age.” They had the robot just where they needed it and the ripperdoc was setting up it’s boundaries so that it would recognize when it was out of bounds

“Help or good karma?” David asked, shrugging off his coat and starting up the robot. There was a series of motions they had to go through, to make sure that he was up against a journeyman welterweight, not a world heavyweight champion. David was good, but he had limits that he was willing to show to the people that were helping him out.

“Heh, both. You’re a good kid, David. Good head on your shoulders, too.” Was the Doctor’s reply, as he went to watch David’s sparring. The youth quickly found that the robot learned from his technique, and was able to predict a lot of his movements. David didn’t think it would be appropriate to practice brawling and make use of his… particular talents at the same time. Right now, magic was a crutch he didn’t need so he could strengthen his ability to fight..

That was David’s afternoon. He would do four, one minute rounds with the sparring robot, then help Vik with his next patient, then ten minutes on the bags. It almost felt normal, like he was back home training with his coach. Every now and then, Vik would give him a pointer and he would work on it, before using it with the sparring partner. Only a few hours with the ripperdoc and he already felt like a better boxer and field medic.

Around 8pm or so, Vik closed up shop, having sent the last patient of the day back home with a brand new set of cybereyes to replace that wouldn’t have cataracts or glaucoma. All in the days work for the best ripperdoc in the Watson district of Night City..

“Alright, David, time to wrap it up. Good hustle today.” Vik started putting away his tools, motioning for David to help.

“So… here’s the thing, Vik.” David started,trying to explain his current situation. How did one tell someone that took time out of their day to help you with the two things you’re actually talented at that you lack the basic need of shelter?

“I know, you don’t got a place to stay, that’s fine. I live in an apartment in the building, but lucky you…” He led him over to another part of his gallery and… “I just happen to have a spare bed down here that you can use.” It was a fold up cot, like from a hotel. It was perfect for David’s needs.

“Thank you so much. This beats sleeping out in the streets.” This was just what he needed. Misty and Vik had been a huge help with him and made his arrival to Night City just a little bit better. He waved the ripperdoc off… and collapsed onto the cot. It was by no means a comfortable bed, but compared to the dumpster from last night. Between the exhaustion from all the training he did… and the weight off his shoulders from the chakra harmonization…

He slept all night, with not a single nightmare to bother him.

Chapter Text

Night City, 2075

He woke up, stretching. He had just had the best sleep of his life in the last month. He felt… refreshed. There were no nightmares, no tossing, no turning, just a blissful recuperative sleep.

“Mornin’, sport!” And there was Viktor Vektor, coming to check on his guest. “I brought breakfast and a gift.” The older man held a bay in which there was a clamshell container, stating it was from Tom’s Diner. Inside was the most beautiful thing that David had seen in a long time… egg sandwich, on toast, with a side of fried… well, they looked like fries and smelled like fries and probably tasted like grease and salt, so he was going to call it even. He took his first bite of the sandwich. Of course, the bread was extremely tasty, but the egg itself was probably synthetic.

“So what’s the gift, Vik?” He finally asked after he swallowed his first, large bite. There was a box presented to him, it said Zetatech on it. Opening it up… he found a cellphone. Little old school device with a familiar form factor. He had seen some people using them as well, but he always guessed that he wasn’t the only one without some kind of internal communication device

“So you don’t have an internal agent and you have an aversion to chipping in, so I got you an external agent.” That couldn’t have been cheap at all. He’d have to figure out how to pay Vik back for all the good things he had been doing for him in the last couple of days. Him and Misty.

“I don’t know what to say, Vik, but… this…” It was too much, he couldn’t accept this, this wasn’t a gift, this was a debt!

“Was cheaper than you think. Turn on, I pre-programmed some numbers for you.” Vik motioned for him to do just that, so he did, as long as the doctor was inisting that he use it.. He had three contacts already installed. Viktor Vektor, of course. Misty Olszewski, which made sense as well. But then there was a third contact that he didn’t recognize at all.

“... who’s Regina Jones?” He was munching on his breakfast, while running through his new phone.

“Ah, Regina is the local fixer in Watson. You’re looking to make some eddies, right.” The ubiquitous eurodollar, what appeared to be this realm’s variant of the just as ubiquitous nuyen.

“Yes, but… what about helping you?” David asked. Hell, just working for room and board was a step up from sleeping on the streets and worrying about gangs and worse.

“I can’t monopolize all your time, David. It’s good that you learn, but you have to go out on your own, to learn and earn.” That made some sense, and he did need to make some creds if he was going to survive in this city. Not everyone would be as kind or friendly as the doctor or Misty.

“Sure, I’ll give her a call, see if we can do a meet and greet. If she’s got biz for me… well, I got a busy day ahead of me, then?” That was putting it mildly. He was going to need to do as much work for Regina Jones as was possible.

“Just don’t burn yourself out, Kid.” With that said… David washed up as well as he could, threw his jacket on, and took out into the streets of Night City, making his first agent holocall. The woman who answered did so curtly, almost rude, but not the same disdain that his usual fixer back home seemed to have.
“Who is this and how did you get this number?” Her speech was clipped short, like she was busy and had another call to take, or others to work with. Which made sense, since she was a fixer for the whole district and it seemed that she knew what she was doing, from the way Vik talked about her.

“Uh… David Martinez… I got it from Doctor Vektor…?” He wasn’t sure if she knew Vik, Vik knew of her, but she was the district fixer, everyone probably knew of her, it was the only way you could get work or hire other runners to help with your biz if you needed someone to watch your back.

“Vik, huh. You lookin’ for biz, because I don’t have any time for rookie runners that aren’t looking for serious biz.” He almost felt insulted. All he was was serious when it came to biz or otherwise! Sure, he might have been a bit of a goof when he allowed himself, but he was seventeen. He was allowed to when he wasn’t working.

“I’m serious about biz. I’m just a freelance medic, but I specialize in thievery, so if you need anything proffed, I can get it for ya.”

“... a thief huh… I might have a few small time jobs for you. You want me to flick ya the detes?”

“Errr, most fixers I worked with before like to have a siddown first. You wanna meet at Tom’s Diner in Little China? Hash out the small stuff before you gimme the job detes?”

“Sure, I’ll even pay for the coffee.” Oh, that was the best part right there. “Be there in ten minutes.” With all that said and done, David made his way to the Tom’s diner in Little China. It wasn’t that far away, so he was able to move at a leisurely pace, finally finding the hole in the wall joint. He got a booth, after he was told to find a place to sit.

“I’m meeting someone, so I’ll take two Soykaffs…” He said, almost on reflex. The waitress looked at him, before he corrected and ordered two black coffees. They had just arrived when the fixer did. A stern looking woman, missing an eye and wearing a flak jacket.

“So, David Martinez, little young to be a runner, aren’t you?” Again with his age. Surely there were others that were younger then he that had to run the shadows to make ends meet, surely!

“I get that a lot, but what else am I gonna do? I’m new to the City and I’m completely SINless…” Which was true. He wasn’t sure that his Coronado City SIN would do him any good, but he was almost certainly sure it wouldn’t.

“I get it, no home, no family, no id… you gotta make the eddies where you can.” She picked up her cup of coffee, taking a rather deliberate sip from him. It looked like she was trying to intimidate her, showing that she took her coffee black.

“Exactly. I got a meeting with a crew in a couple of days, they needed a medic and I got some training, but in the meantime… I need creds before then to try and set myself up before then.” Regina nodded, before setting a small box on the table.

“Here’s the detes you need for the three jobs. I need them done on time and today. You up to it? They’re simple, but they have a deadline.” David took the box and found that inside was a datashard, he cursed under his breath, before he pulled out his agent to review the datashard with. The jobs, like Regina said, were simple rookie stuff. Mostly just stealing back some stolen merch.

Job one was that some guy ended up hawking his wife’s wedding ring and needed it back before she came home from work at the Petrochem building and will take his balls off. What he gets for playing the numbers on the daily.

Job two required him to hotwire a car. Looked like some punk kid lost his… Quartz racing for pinks and wanted to renege on his buddy. What an awful person, hiring someone to steal his car back.

And job three… he looked up at Regina.

“This serious? I thought you said that these were easy jobs…”

“This is probably the easiest job there. Couple days ago, MaxTac zeroes a cyberpsycho in Corpo Plaza, some of his chrome ends up going missing when it’s time to cremate the poor bastard. I sent out my feelers and I found out where some of it wound up.”

“I don’t have to do something like carve it out some poor gonk, do I?” He didn’t have a knife, nor did he like the idea of just… cutting someone up like a sunday roast. He didn’t want to be that guy orr like that guy or even on the same page as that guy.

“Nothing like that, it’s hot chrome and it’s only getting hotter, they’re probably still sitting on it until the heat dies down. Maybe even head to Frisco to sell it.”

“I noticed that it doesn’t say what I’m actually getting. Mr Johnson not too particular with what I get?”

“Mister Johnson. I like that, but… in a manner of speaking, he’s looking for either the spinal implant or the ocular implant. We’re not sure which one the EMT ran off with, but if they have both, there’s a bonus for you for turning in both. But that one has the tightest time limit.”

“Sangre Christo, Regina. I don’t think I can do the last one quiet.” Breaking into an apartment, trying to find something that might not even be there? He was going to have to try and talk with the gonk that proffed the cyberware to begin with.

“That’s the best part, you don’t have to David, just get the goods and you’re good. None of them need stealth, good practice for a rookie like yourself.” That. was… fine. He could work with that, but there was the fact that it looked like he’ll be running all over Watson. Job one put him in Northside, with a warning that it was a bunch of Maelstrommers he’d have to deal with. Job 2 was in Kabuki, and he’d have to be proofing the car away from some Yaks part of a crew called the Tyger Claws… and the final one, he’d have to check out Megabuilding H10.

“Get going, David. And good luck, you’ll need it.” With that all said and done, the Watson Fixer excused herself and made her way out of Tom’s Diner. David shook his head, finished his coffee and then…

“Son of a bitch, she stiffed me on the coffee!” That was 25 eddies he wasn’t getting back. He left a few bills on the table and left as well, and saw a message ping him from Regina Jones.
‘Some free advice, kid: Always make sure your fixer does what they say will.’ Yeah, he’ll be sure to remember that. It was certainly a learning experience, one that he will keep with him for the rest of his career. Then again, the fixers he worked with back home never offered to pay for anything ever. How embarrassing.

He shook his head, hands in his pockets as he started the trek up to Northside. He wasn’t sure if he could use the NCART… and he was almost certain that he didn’t have nearly enough money to use it all day. Had to save every single credit he made, and he really wasn’t starting all that well with the little lesson that Regina gave him already.

It was fine. Walking was good for him. It let him take in the sights and see everything that was around him, noting the difference between Night City and Coronado. He hadn’t spent much time in Watson, but he remembered it being more of an industrial and manufacturing sector of the city, but appeared that here, it was also home to some of the poorest people in the city, held up in the megabuilding in Little China.

When he was only a couple dozen meters away from the first location, he took to the roof of a low rise building, and pulled out a monocular he kept on him, and see if he couldn’t scout out his location. He had his commlink out as well, to make sure he could mark any patrols and highlight them on his contacts.

“... seis, siete, ocho… yeesh, rookie run, eh, Regina? Eight chromers packin’ who knows what?” He silently cursed to himself. He could do it. He had them marked and tagged, then scouted out the building they were operating out of. He could see a pair of cameras pointing into the parking lot… and just barely made out another in an alley. Ground approach wasn’t probably the best plan.

He looked over the other buildings and saw the building next to it, the other side of the alley with the camera. It was taller, by several stories, but he spotted a balcony that opened up to a door. The monocular was able to measure from the roof of the Maelstrom building to the balcony. It… wasn’t a short drop.

“Ten meters…” He never dropped ten meters before. He only ever tried to keep it around five or less, but that’s ten… He wasn’t sure that he could make it. He cursed under his breath, this wasn’t the time to doubt himself or his abilities.He slapped his face a few times, to work himself up, as he got off the building he was on, and headed towards the taller of the two buildings.

Thankfully for him, he was so unassuming that the Maelstrom members paid him no mind, save to yell profanities at him. That was okay, their words may have well been wind. And lucky for him, he wasn’t close enough for them to take offense to his lack of chrome. Getting into a fight with them early was… not what he wanted to do. He shook his head, as he entered the other building.

There wasn’t even any kind of lobby personnel to stop him, and that was just what he wanted, as he entered the elevator and entered the floor he needed. He tapped his foot to the elevator music, as they connected it to a radio. He wasn’t sure about most of the music he heard in this town, but this wasn’t so bad. He could take a liking to it and would have to see about getting a copy for it.

The elevator dinged. He was at his floor, and as he stepped out of it, he heard the final lyrics fade from him.

“Never fade away, huh? I get it. Just like Mama won’t fade away as long as I keep her in my heart.” Sure, it was a bit sappy, but it was absolutely true. He walked towards the balcony door, opened it up, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the sky. It was a ten meter drop, from the balcony to the roof of the Maelstrom building. Not nearly long enough to build terminal velocity, but he didn’t need it, as he felt his inner mystical energies take hold of him, slowing him down… and he landed softly, into a crouch, on the roof of the building that held the prize he was looking for.

Getting in through the skylight was a cakewalk compared to it, as he was on the third level catwalk. There were another three chromers on the floor of the warehouse, and two on the second floor…! No, there was only one. The other was headed back down to the floor… now was the time to move, as he was slinking through the warehouse like a mouse. Never like a cat. He saw enough trids where a cat thought it was stealthy and proved to be anything but.

He approached the lone Maelstromer, took a deep breath… before grabbing him by the throat, turning around and tried choking the bastard against his shoulder.

“...gotosleepgotosleepgotosleepgotosleep…!” He chanted to himself as the Maelstromer struggled against him, a hand holding his nose shut and over his mouth and soon… the struggling ceased. Out like a light, David dragged the body over to a tall storage unit, just perfect for his needs, hiding the unconscious body. He took a moment to center himself, and noticed that the terminal they were working on was still open and David took a moment to snoop through it.

The messages were the general type of orders one would expect from the head honcho of a near cult of cybernetic lunatics, some gonk named Brick. David assumed that wasn’t his real name, but that wasn’t important. He found their security system and thought it better to just shut down the cameras for now so he could make his way out of the alley, but he saw that there was a file open. He thought for a moment, then decided to open it.

He really wished he hadn’t. It was a rather large video of a Maelstrom gathering… of inducting new members, people they just kidnapped off the street, forcibly implanted cyberware into their bodies and then let the cyberpsychosis do the rest. It was frightening to watch, he remembered the extreme guro trid his friends had dared him to view once. He didn't like it, not at all.

He thought again, as he closed the file, before taking out his agent and jacked it into the terminal. If he was lucky, Regina might have some use for such information, and maybe get him a bonus. If not, he was sure to find a fence somewhere that could do something about or with it. He’d ask Maine tomorrow night if he couldn’t get Regina to purchase it. With the file downloaded, he pulled the jack of his agent out of the terminal, and spotted it right on the desk the terminal was mounted to. A band of rose gold just sitting out in the open.

“Too easy.” He said to himself, shaking his head as he made his way towards a clean exit, making his way to the exit to the alley on the floor of the warehouse.

A clean getaway!

Door closed behind him, he turned around and…

Spotted that there was a big fragger that was in the alley taking a piss, he turned and David was right in front of him. There was a brief moment, as the man was so hopped up on something that David didn't even want to think about, that he barely reacted!

“Mierda!” David cursed. He shouldn’t have expected a cakewalk of all things!

The Maelstrommer hadn’t even zipped up, before he found a fist buried in his stomach, then another on the side of his head, before grabbing him by the neck and bulldogging him, planting the chromer’s face directly into the filthy pavement of the alley. He thought better of it, before he kicked him in the head just to be sure, and hurried out of the alley. He ran three blocks before he called Regina.

After he caught his breath, that is.

“David, how that gig go?” Regina was all professional in this call.

“It was a cakewalk. I got that wedding ring your client lost from the Maelstrom. Might have a datafile you’ll find interesting, too.” He was holding the ring in his hand, seeing if there were any engravings. It looked like the right one in the job detes, but he wanted to be sure.

“Oh? And what’s that?” Oh, did he have something for her.

“Proffed a trid of some Maelstrom initiation ceremony… ritual. Whatever the fragged up chromers call it. Real horror show drek. Think you might want it, or should I find a fence that might be interested in the footage?” Secretly, he was praying that she would want it, this could be a hot commodity.

“Sure. I’ll tag a 15% bonus for the file.” David thought about it. 15 was good, but he needed the creds.

“Twenty and it’s yours. I had to watch the damn thing, gonna be a whole new set of nightmares. And I had to pay for the coffee.” He got his hooks into her, let her take pity on the little dumb street kid that needs the cash.

“Fine, 20%, but not an enny more.” Great success!

“Alright, sending you the file now. Where do you want me to drop off the ring?” He still had to deliver that, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hold onto it until he could meet Regina again. Especially since it was something he could easily lose.

“I’m sending you the coords to a drop off location. Do that and consider the gig closed. Good job, David. One down, two to go.” He got the location of the drop point to use, and headed over to drop off the ring. A quick text to Regina that it was done… and there was a ding on his agent as the credstick in one of the slots acknowledged the payment. He was 2200 eurodollars richer and proud that his first gig in Night City was finished.

Now he had to move on to his second gig. Thankfully, the coords for the drop off was in the direction towards Kabuki, so he didn’t have to back track at all. He had to go and proff some car that some hot shot racing Yak got for winnin’ a street race and the poor loser put a job out to steal it back. He didn’t agree with the idea, racing for pinks out in Coronado meant something to the various street gangs, no one would hire a team of shadowrunners to get a car that was won fair and square. Would be a good call for war, and no one wanted that.

He never boosted a car before. He knew how to do it, he watched a few trids on the Matrix about doing so, just in case he had too. Kurt even let him practice on that beater of a whip he had, called it cultivating talent, see if he couldn’t make a thief into a jacker. Looking back, Kurt was trying to groom him to be some kind of loyal burglar that would work for scraps, he felt embarrassed that he worked for that creep at all.
He shook his head, as he entered Kabuki, and thought the best way to boost the car from the Tyger Claws and not get chased by some Yak Go-Gang. He wasn’t that good a driver and his enhanced perceptions didn’t do much when it came to wheels… and from what the detes of the job said, the car was a bit more sporty than the Americar he learned how to drive on.

He spotted the go-gang garage, and took to the roof of an eatery to spy on it better. There were less yaks here then there were chromers at the first job, but he could see tanto knives and katanas and all kinds of hardware that could slice and dice him all up. But he also spotted the car, in a garage just slightly off the street, and just outside of the place where the yaks were partying it up.

“These gilipollas’ might be dumb enough to leave the key in the car, could they? No, not even a yak go-go could be that dumb.” But… but… luck was on his side already, maybe they were just that dumb and he could make another clean break. He prepared another plan. If there was the key, he could just get the car in neutral, roll it out of the garage and into the street and just start it up and head out.

Hell, he might even take the time to try and find the key in the garage, that could work too and it was absolutely less dumb then relying on the stupidity of the Yaks to just leave it in the car. He tagged the go-gos in the yard, and made sure not to make a sound as he got back down to the street level. They didn’t have any cameras, so he would hope that there weren’t any riggers or deckers to worry about, as he casually made his way over to the garage, ducking into the one that held the prize he was after.

So far, so good, as he looked around to try and find the keys to the vehicle. He also found that the idiots just left their drek lying around. Rolls of eurodollars, a recon grenade, and even some of the local medicine! A vial of Bounce Back in what was labeled an air hypo. He pocketed both objects, and continued looking over the messy work tables, finding a few other things that he didn’t want to end up dealing with.

Weapons, drugs, and other sundry… and then he found a key that proudly said Archer on it, the maker of the Quartz he was supposed to proff. Jackpot. He opened up the door of the vehicle and it detected the key, meaning this was the right one. He could do this… he put the transmission into neutral and slowly, surely pushed the car out of the garage and right into the street.

He hopped in the car, turned it on, and took off down the road.

“100% arctic!” He called up Regina. “Regina, got the car. You got a location you want me to take it too?” He managed to pull out onto the main road, as Regina texted him the coords to the drop off. He took his time, to enjoy the drive at his own pace. He wasn’t going to get much opportunity to drive, he just knew it. A vehicle? That was totally out of his reach.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to a parking lot, some other racing fool looking ecstatic to get his car back, practically begging for the key to be handed back to him.

“Call the fixer. No key until I get paid.” David told the man, as he leaned up against the car. Not three minutes later… a cool 4000 eurodollars found a home on his credstick. “Pleasure doing business for you, chummer.” He gave the man a salute and headed off to Little China. The final gig of the day, and quite possibly the most expensive one. Proffing some deltaware that was popped off some cyberpsycho? Only desperate people would do that.

He stopped for lunch on the way to the next gig, stopping at a noodle stand. He was hoping that Night City shared the same rep that Coronado did, that it was home to some of the best ramen stands in the whole of the California Free State. It looked real, it smelled real. He gave it a slurp… and… well, the noodles were overcooked, the broth was a bit too salty and the pork was just a touch too synthetic.

Not bad, but not what he had gotten at home. He still packed away the entire bowl, an extra side of noodles, and a whole beer as well. It was a satisfying lunch, and worth every eddie, but it wasn’t what he had gotten at home. He left a ten eddie tip and trashed the beer bottle on his way out. Megabuilding H10. He had never been in an arc before, but what he read up on his walk here, the Megabuildings weren’t exactly like the arcologies of back home, not that Coronado had any to begin with.

No one batted an eye as he entered, as the whole thing seemed open… he was into the elevator and took it right up to the level needed and started to look for the suspected apartment that he needed to figure out how to get in. He pondered it some more, while he looked around for anything like maintenance access.

He tapped his foot, as he waited leaning against the railing that kept people from falling forty stories down. He could just wait it out, that person had to come back… or they had to leave… or any number of things. When that door opened, he could slip in behind them, close the door and threaten them for the chrome… or proff when they left.

He spent an hour there, working with his agent and tried to see if he could get that music he heard in the building he was in hours earlier. A band called Samurai, popular amongst the cyberpunks due to their EXTREMELY anti-Corporate message. He could get behind that, given that he was trapped here because of some Aztechnology drek. He had just managed to get an album downloaded when he spotted the EMT coming home.

Alright, time to work with this, he waited for the man to open the door… and using his enhanced perception and reflexes… slipped in behind them, jamming the barrel of his Ares Predator into the small of the man’s back, pushing him into the apartment and closing the door behind him.

“Hoi, omae… why don't we make this simple, so ka?” He tried to be as intimidating as possible, trying to put the fear of god in the man. He looked around, the apartment was dirty and dingy, looking like it had seen better days. And, worse yet, there were the three little children that were sitting on the couch, looking at the man, obviously their father, and the young man that was threatening him.

“Simple?” The EMT asked. “What are you even talking about?”

“Someone ratted you out, chummer. You decided to carve that cyberpsycho like a turkey, I’m here for the choice bits.” He put a little bass to his voice, it wouldn’t do him good if they thought he was just some kid that had no intention of doing any harm, it would kill this whole gig.

“Psycho don’t need that chrome no more.” The man had his hand raised. “Listen, I got three kids to feed after my wife left me, what do you want me to do? He was dead and that chrome was so preem me and my partner couldn’t resist!” The man sounded like he was sobbing. David closed his eyes, and pulled back the hammer on his pistol.

“You still got it? It’s probably the hottest piece of chrome in the entire city, and lucky you that you got me looking for it.” David needed him to just give it up without a fight, that would be great.

“What do you mean piece? Me and Mick pulled out four pieces out of that chrome jock that MaxTac didn’t break.” Four? Fixer said they were only looking for the spine and eyes, what the hell else did they end up taking? On the other hand, if Mister Johnson was paying top cred for the spine and eyes, perhaps he was going to pay for the other pieces as well.

“And you’re chummer let you keep all six here? Somethin’ ain’t addin’ up, omae.” He dug the pistol in a bit deeper, punctuating his question. He needed to know where the chrome was and now and if it turned out it was somewhere else instead, he didn’t have nearly enough time to track it down.

“Look, choomba… you here to kill me or can we talk about this like real adults?” David thought about it… he wasn’t here to kill the guy, and he didn’t want to hurt some father in front of his kids. That could scar people for life and who knows how it would mess them up? He wasn’t supposed to keep this mission quiet, so…

“Fine, face to face. But I want the truth, chummer. I’m the one holding the gun.” He let the man go, who went to sit with his kids on the couch, shooing them into another room, telling them that he’ll be alright and to be good while he talked with their guest.

“Mick’s dead. Car took a swan dive off the overpass. NCPD says his brake lines were cut. Didn’t survive impact.” The man explained about the death of his partner. That was not a natural death, obviously, but he was certain that what he saw of the NCPD and heard from conversations while walking the city that they weren’t going to work themselves to death trying to figure out what happened to the EMT that died.

“Did he have the chrome?” David asked, finally finding his thoughts. The other man shook his head. That was good, he was at the right place. The man stood up and walked over to the closet by the door and pulled out several mylar vacuum sealed bags. The cyberware that he was looking for, perfectly preserved. Bureaucracy struck again.

“It’s an armored spinal implant, full spectrum cyber-monoeyes, and leg mounted mantis blades. Never seen anyone do something like that, thought some chrome jock would want them to brag about.” David motioned with his gun for the man to put them on the table, but as he did so, there was a knock at the door.

“You expecting any company?” David asked the man, turning to see it. He shook his head, again… as the door was blown away and the largest fragger he had ever seen stepped right in, looking like he belonged in a dohyo, wearing top knop and a full white noh mask that seemed grafted to his face.

He was also carrying a huge testsubo that was almost as long as David was tall and the young shadowrunner dumped the whole mag out of his Ares Predator into the big man. While .45 ACP may have been iconic for iconic weapons with impeccable pedigree… he may as well been using a BB Gun from how the big man took all fifteen shots.

“Aw, drek!” He managed to react just in time to leap off the couch just as the other mercenary slammed his mighty inertial tetsubo into the couch, splintering it into pieces! He slipped to the side… and charged in recklessly as he holstered his pistol, ducking under another swinging and laying into the man! A quick series of jabs that felt like he was punching a sheet of iron.

The big man laughed and said something crude in Japanese towards David, laughing some more.

“Yeah, fuck you too, omae.” He wasn’t about to get this guy on blows, so he would have to fight smarter, not harder. He waited for another swing as his mystically enhanced perceptions saved him again, sliding in and slamming a fist into the big man’s knee, causing him to take it and lining up his face with David’s fists! It was a furious flurry of blows, as he was drawing on even more of his internal storage of mana, landing blows on the other merc’s face and chest.

The man roared, swinging his club again and this time he caught David, sending him flying into the book shelves opposite the kitchenette, before falling to the floor, landing hard on his back. What the fuck was this fragger made of? Well, it was a dumb question and just his luck that the man was probably some chipped in razorboy… it was deja vu all over again. He had to fight smarter, not harder. He could do this, he just had to think as he rolled forward onto his feet.

He waited for the merc to swing at him again, but this time he was ready. He didn’t jump back, but rolled under the blow and landed a right at the big man’s elbow, satisfied when he felt it over extend and pop. The big Japanese merc howled out in pain, as David gave all that he got, crying out as he landed a dozen blows! This time… he had success, using his Killing Hands to great effect, the other merc had his face cracked, leaking synthetic blood and according to a scan he did, he was suffering enough internal damage to be knocked insensate.

David slid to the floor and finally was able to catch his breath. He looked over and the EMT was still conscious… and alive at that. He thought about the gig, all he had to do was turn in one of the pieces of cyberware that the client wanted, and let the poor guy feed his family. Or get away from this horrible city.

“Tell you what, chummer… I’ll take this one.” He picked up the sealed pack containing the cyber monoeye. “For the gig I’m on… and you can keep the other three. Go do something with your life, get your family out of this hellhole.” He groaned while he got to his feet, and shuffled towards the door. Passing by the other merc, he thought for a moment, and picked up the tetsubo. It felt good in his hands, like it belonged there. So, heaving it over his shoulder, he headed out of the apartment. He took the garage elevator, because he could already tell that after a fight like that, someone must have called the cops. Then again, he couldn't imagine that the NCPD’s response time was any good at all.

He sent a text to Regina on his way down, requesting the coords for the drop off. He rolled his shoulders, and twisted his back just right, hearing a series of pops as everything went back into alignment, just in time to exit the elevator and just in time to see the fact that the building was right across the street from an NCPD building. How could he miss that on his way in? It didn’t matter, Regina texted him the coords and he delivered the merch. Soon he was eight thousand eddies richer. That put him at just over fourteen thousand eurodollars. Not enough that he could get a place of his own just yet, but it was a good start, especially since he was meeting with his crew tomorrow night. He headed back to Vik’s clinic, and put in an order of take out… and turned in early.

He had a big day tomorrow!

Chapter Text

Night City, Six Months Prior

He was lying face ground in a puddle of piss when he came too with a sudden shock, gasping! His body was shaking, even as he rose to his feet, and found himself leaning against a wall. Every single nerve felt like it was on fire, his teeth chattering and his shaking almost uncontrollably. He had to force his hands into fists to stop the shaking. He let out a breath he had held in, and relaxed as much as he could allow himself too

“Where the hell am I?” Katsuo Tanaka was caught in an explosion of blood magic, with the one person he hated more than any other. David Martinez, the street trash that made a fool out of him, but in some cases… made him the man that he was today. If not for that embarrassment, he wouldn’t have pursued his milspec armachrome and turn into the perfect street samurai.

Also having unlimited access to the bottomless pit that was his father’s bank account didn’t hurt, either. Not like he had seen the man in the last few years, just a few calls, a few emails. His father thought he could make up for any failings in his parenting by giving access to millions of nuyen to his only son. In a way, he was right. Without those funds, he wouldn’t be where he was today.

He looked around and he was in some piss soaked valley filled with gutter trash and garbage, in some strange city he didn’t recognize, even as his cybereyes lit up with scans of the people and the screens and everything else. Companies he didn’t recognize, products that didn’t make sense, advertisements that made use of sex and violence.

The only thing that made any sense was that the blood red crimson pulse that hit the three of them… he ran a knowsoft and got his answer. There was a theory about different dimensions, beyond the astral planes that most magicians interacted with… other Earths that followed different timelines. Why wouldn’t a magic accident much like that send him careening through the veil separating dimensions.

Next question was how the hell was he going to get back? Even as he wandered the back alleys of this god forsaken town, the lack of metahumanity told him all he needed to know about this world, and what it lacked. But… Aztlan magic, according to another knowsoft he had slotted in, required sacrifice of blood. More than that, whatever spirits they drew power from did exist in the astral planes.

He pondered to himself, if he could spill enough blood, he could possibly duplicate such an effect, but he had no magic himself… and he wasn’t a true believer, so he would have to shed a lot of blood. It meant no mind to him, he was already a killer and he found that he had a love for bloodshed over his short career so far.

“Well, I’ve never been one to say no to a little murder.” He murmured to himself, he wasn’t one to say no to a lot of murder, either, as he followed a group of whores down an alley. Who knew what they were doing, he didn’t care. “Time to put these zombies to work, then.”

Yes, that was exactly it. They were nothing but zombies. They weren’t people, just walking little bags of blood that he needed to spill to get back home. He was going to let anyone stop him. Was it not his right to go back home? Did he not deserve that? Of course he did, he would take what was his, chew and eat his fill until the world was sick of it.

Unfortunately, while he only knew the barest information of Aztlan blood magic, he didn’t actually know what would please the violent gods of Aztechnology. He’d have to wing it. Historically the Aztec’s removed hearts… so that’s just what he would have to do, as he followed the trio into the blind alley. He was as silent as a jungle cat, following its prey, just that his walked on two legs instead of four.

He drew his katana, the hypersharp blade with a monomolecular blade… he activated his Move-By-Wire system and flickered in front of them. He didn’t say anything, they just gasped as his weapon flashed, a shining blade of silver, edged in moonlight. He sliced open the one in the middle, stabbed the third, and the first… with his free hand he ripped out her throat.

He dropped his speedware and all three collapsed to the ground, arterial spray painting the walls and pavement of the alley. He had to admire his work, his internal clock said he managed to finish them off in less than 3 seconds. The three expired quickly, two of them exsanguinating in moments. With a sharp downward swing, the blood on his blade was shed from it, even as he looked at his left hand, still slick with red blood. He couldn’t help himself, as he took the tip of his finger and let a single drop of the red stuff drip onto his tongue.

He shuddered in a moment of near orgasmic ecstasy. His taste booster could almost tell him the blood type of the woman, but there was too much of a synthetic compound for it to figure out just exactly what. Oh well, he didn’t have the time to take a greater sample, too bad. He could take his time, enjoy the bloodshed and death that was amongst him, but he had to work quickly.

He looked over his work, before he started carving out their hearts and leaving them in their laps. He had to admit, there was something… alluring about the look of fear, of absolute terror on their faces as they saw that brief moment of death standing before them.

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Beautiful.” There was a beauty that lied in death, and he had found in his short career that he enjoyed watching people die. Enemies. Allies. Civilians. It didn’t matter, that look as the light left their eyes was better then any ‘dorph rush could ever hope to be. A part of him, deep in his black heart, wanted that rush more than heading back home. Even if the plan didn’t work, he could at least enjoy the bloody task at hand.

Of course, nothing happened, no swirling portal of doom, no ancient Aztec spirit to greet him for his sacrifice. But he wasn’t disappointed, it would take more than the deaths of three useless people to equal the sacrifice of a single enlightened metahuman shaman. He’d have to shed more and more and more blood to get any effect, ripping the hearts out of these sacrifices. But he would have to wait, it would do no good for the Zombies to catch him before he was allowed to have all his fun.

He vanished into the night… he’ll reappear in a couple of days, and continue his business. Let the City sleep easily for the last time, until he makes his mark again and again. However much death it would take, he was willing to give out. Whether this city wanted him too or not! Afterall, the people of this city? He didn’t care about them at all. They were just meat for him to butcher, serving towards his own ends, to satisfy his own bloody desires.

‘Good Morning, Night City! It’s your man, Stan! It looked like we were going to have a nice round number at 22 for the bodycount lottery, but just before dawn, looked like three joytoys were found brutally murdered in a back alley. And get this, all three had their hearts removed and placed in their lap! Somebody sending a message to the sex workers of Night City? Are we going to be in the midst of a pimp war? Or maybe a john got a little too handsy and decided to rummage around in their chests? Anyway, this is your man Stan with the morning update!’

Chapter Text

Night City, 2075

Today was the day he would have to go and meet with Maine and the rest of his crew. The plan was to get to Afterlife an hour early, get himself settled and just… wait for the rest to show up. Easy enough, and it would allow him to have almost the entirety of the day to himself… well, not to himself entirely, he was planning on working in the clinic all morning.

He cleaned up, had a quick enough breakfast, even though he was sure with great certainty that this Meat Paste was more paste than meat, he downed a can of patented RealWater, threw on his jacket and checked out the clinic proper to get to work with Doctor Vektor.

… he was certainly surprised when as soon as he entered, he had guns pointed at him. There were almost twelve people crowded into the clinic, beyond Vik and David. They were two different boostergangs, by the way their colors differentiated the two groups of six. He looked over to Vik, who was currently moving in front of the crowd.

“The kid’s with me, my apprentice. Now are you going to calm down so I can patch you idiots up, are you going to just bleed on my floor? You know my rules, the clinic is neutral ground, so any beef you have with each other is left out the door.” He waited for the two leaders to calm their men down, guns were re-holstered and a calm fell over the clinic floor.

“Good, get the most wounded of you on my chair and I’ll start working.” He turned too David. “The kid can stitch up and bandage anyone that’s still ambulatory.” If that was what the boss asked him to do, that’s what he would do. He managed to get a stool and another chair for him to work with, getting the one that needed the most stitches down.

For a bunch of hardened gangsters, they sure did wince every time the needle dug into them and he pulled the string taut.

“Hey, esse, can’t you, like, numb me first?” The vaguely latino OG was bitching about having his stitches done. David couldn’t believe what made a gangster in this city, he shook his head, as he pulled the string taut again before going for the next stitch to close that 5 cm long cut.

“Deja de quejarte, cabrón. You want anestesia?” He pointed to a half empty bottle of vodka nearby. “Drink up or shut up.” He went back to his work.

“Hey, you can’t talk to me like that, hermanito! You know who I am?” The gangster was getting angry, even after he took a heavy slug from the bottle of vodka. He had another two to stitch up after this one, and a final that just needed bandaging. The other group did a little bit better, given that they wore body armor, but what’cha gonna do? Some people just took their machismo seriously.

“I don’t know, I’m not, and I just did.” David said, finishing up, answering that he didn’t know who the gangbanger was, they weren’t his little brother, and he had already talked to him just like that. “Get up, you’re done.”

“Mocoso.” The man said to David as he got up, only for another, different one to sit down. They didn’t say much, only downed a couple mouthfuls of vodka and didn’t say a word or make a sound as David stitched him up. The next was an equally quiet woman that just let him bandage her thigh without much fuss. By the time he was finished, Vik had patched up the more wounded members, accepted payment from both gangs, who filed out of the clinic, but not before they left a whole rack of eddies for the Doctor.

“What a charming bunch.” David said, as the last closed the door out to the alley. They were rude, almost got into another fight, and almost shot him as soon as he came in for work. Was this the norm in this city? He never visited a clinic that anyone hadn’t already assumed was neutral ground back home.

“You get used to it in Night City, kid. But you…” Vik turned to face David. “You need to work on your bedside manner. Even if you’re the crew’s medtech, there’s no reason you can’t be personable.” The man took his seat at his work bench, flipping on another boxing match.

“I’m plenty personable! Why do I gotta put on a good show for those assholes?” Being polite and personable to gangoons of all stripes? Why the hell would he want to do that? Why the hell should he do that?

“You’ll find most crews of cyberpunks and edgerunners aren’t a family, David. You’ll be even surprised to find that not many of them are even friends.” … that was almost the opposite of what the trids had told him about Shadowrunners, sure if a fixer hired you for a specific job you weren’t going to be friendly with someone you just met, but a bunch of runners ran with the same crew again and again and again.

“That doesn’t sound right, Vik.” David finally said, after some thought. “If we don’t like each other, how are we going to work together without killing each other?”

“There lies the big question, David. If none of you like anyone as a person, what’s going to stop someone from killing one of the others for a bigger cut of the prize? Not being chooms with your other runners is the number one cause of death before or after a run.” He took the stack of money and started counting bills out, while David thought about what he had said. It made sense, didn’t it?

“Right, be kind to strangers because it’s good practice to be kind with the folks you work with. I get it.” He watched as there were two neat piles of bills on the bench, and Vik pushed the smaller one towards David. “What’s this…?”

“Your cut of the work. You helped patch up the patients, you get some cash for it. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?” Yes, yes it was! He took the stack and flipped through. There were almost fifteen hundred creds in paper form right there.

“Thank you!” He wasn’t sure what to say, other than give thanks for his cut. He’d have to get it converted to his credstick as soon as possible, but other than that…

“Don’t thank me too much, that was all your doin’. Now go on, that’s as much excitement as you’ll see here today.” He dismissed David. It was just barely noon. He could get some lunch… oh! He could call Regina and see if she had any work he could do. As long as he kept saving up his creds, he could get himself a bike and hopefully find himself a place to stay. Maybe even in the Megabuilding he visited the other day. Didn’t have to be comfortable, just have a few niceties.

He gave the Watson fixer a ring, after he picked up a stick of yakitori from a street vendor. At least back in Coronado, he could still get real actual chicken, and not this synth stuff.

“Hey, David. Lookin’ for work?” Regina’s voice was far friendlier now then it was the first time he called her, now that he proved he was reliable.

“Yeah, I was wondering if you have a job that needs to be taken care of?” A few extra creds would go a long way, and he was hoping that she had a big payday like that last job she gave him.

“Sorry, David, I got no work for you today.” … that meant she had work, but it was work she wasn’t sure he was capable of handling. He didn’t know how he should feel about that, being treated like a rookie for the moment. He had only done three jobs for her just yesterday. Took a lot more than that to build up the appropriate street cred to get better and more difficult jobs from a fixer.

“Do you got any work at all?” David finally asked, hoping that maybe he could get something out of her, anything. “Gotta be something I can do for ya. Deliveries, pick ups, something.”

“Are you really that desperate for edds, David? Alright, I was going to wait before telling you this, but I got you, under a pseud, a sub con with the NCPD.” A subcon? Subcontracting with the police?

“The hell is that supposed to mean? I’d prefer to keep away from the badges as much as possible, Regina.” David wasn’t mad, but he was going to give her the benefit of a doubt, she knew something he didn’t, almost assuredly.

“It means that there’s a fake name with a number attached to it that can be pinged to deal with crimes in progress. Once it’s done, you ping back and you get the bounty. Police can’t take care of every single crime that happens every day in Night City, so they subcontract out to the solos and mercs of Night City to do it for them. Make some eddies, get some street cred with those in the know.” That made a lot of sense, it kinda made him into a gig econ badge, but if it got him extra money… then that put him one step closer to getting his own place.

“... how will I know when the jobs are open?”

“When you’re in the vicinity of the crime, your agent will ping and alert you.” Great, he’d have to wander around the whole of the district to beat up muggers and pickpockets. He was going to get a lot of mileage on the soles of his shoes, he could spend days just wandering Watson itself taking down criminals. He had to stop him from smiling, when it came to him. He was getting paid to be a hero, basically. He could dig it.

“Thanks, Regina… I think I’m gonna take a walk around the district, see what comes up.” He could do this. Easy money.

“Good hunting, David. And good luck.”

He didn’t have to walk far before he got his first NCPD crime in progress pinging on his agent. He headed and spotted a few of those Yak go-gos, the Tyger Claws, harassing a few people. He cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders… and then saw the slow down as his reflexes and perceptions caused a time dilation and he took off.

He leapt up, rearing back his left arm and slammed into the first like a comet, knocking the Yak out and sending them skidding across the ground. In slow motion, the others turned to face him, but he was quicker, ducking and dodging under their aim, slamming a combo into the female’s side, knocking her out for the count, before slipping around and working the third’s kidneys.

He left the three, writing around on the ground, self satisfied with the help he provided. Of course, as soon as he ran in, the people being harassed ran out, but that was okay. He rummaged through the pockets of the bastards, picking up a few pieces of jewelry and a couple credsticks. This wasn’t a bad haul, especially when the 900 eurodollars filed from the NCPD came in.

He could do this, not only could he make money, but he could make a difference in this city. After all, it was the Duty of the Strong to Protect the Weak. Another three NCPD alerts popped up. He had a busy couple hours ahead of him. All in all, his afternoon was filled with three muggers, a single kidnapping, two break ins, and an assault.

He had a few extra thousand eddies burning a hole in his pocket, and decided that he needed to do some shopping. He got a new pair of shiny street tongues, bright green. Some aramid straight cut cargo jeans, and a black Bermuda Triangle meshweave muscle tank, as well as other sundry. He could head back to the clinic, run his new clothes through the wash, get himself another shower, and be ready to head to the Afterlife.

Instead of leaving through the alley way, he needed the opinion of someone and decided to exit through Misty’s shop, asking the woman her opinion on how he looked, showing off his new threads.

“Very kitsch, David… but I didn’t realize you were that big, maybe Jackie will have his gym partner after all when he gets back.” Misty nodded, quite appreciatively. Looking wasn’t a crime, and the young man had asked for an appraisal of his looks, so really she was doing him a favor.

“It’s a big jacket. Used to belong to my mom, but the people she worked for were too stingy to get her one that fit, giving her a XXXXL men’s jacket.” David explained, letting the jacket fall open around him, having shown off his new shirt as well. Big or not, it felt good on his frame and made people underestimate him, thinking he was some scrawny thing.

“Though, I’m not sure about that.” Misty said, pointing to the pack he had on the side of his hip. It was black, synthleather and polyester, with a big red cross on it, hanging opposite of the gun holstered on his right hip.

“It’s a hip bag for my medkit and other equipment. I can only keep so much of that stuff in my pockets on either my pants or jacket.” David felt the need to defend his choices. It didn’t look cool, not really, but it served a purpose, helping him keep his gear close at hand.

Thankfully, the Afterlife wasn’t too far away from what he could tell, but… his immediate assumption that it was some dive appeared to be… incredibly incorrect. There wasn’t a line, but there were a bunch of people outside talking about how this was the place to see and be seen! That it was the premiere location for anyone that was anyone in the world of mercenary or edgerunning or just about anything to be!

The large man at the front was keeping people at bay, letting in only the choicest of people, but there didn’t seem to be anything in common with who was let in, just the whim of the bouncer and whatever mysterious orders his employer had given him. He was big, and David was sure he could probably take him, but he didn’t want to start a fight before meeting his crew.

The man looked at David as he approached. “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?” The man asked, looking David up and down. He looked all the image of a rookie runner, ready to try and break out into the big time, without a single cred to his name. Not exactly the exacting clientele that the Afterlife strive to cultivate here.

“Uhm… I'm here to see Maine? He told me to meet here.” David stated, standing up as tall as he could. He still barely came up to the guy’s neck, though. If this was his first test, he was failing horribly. At least he felt like he was.

“Maine ain’t here. Won’t be here until at least eight, maybe later.” The man said, looking forward, knowing now what the young man wanted. His initial assumption was correct. Rookie merc looking to make it big.

“I’m trying to be punctual, I wanna be early, make a good impression.” David replied, not backing down from the bouncer. Bigger men than he had tried to stop him just this week and they all wound up on the floor.

“Not my fucking problem.” They were both being obstinate, but the man looked over David again and spotted the nametag on his jacket. “Wait… you David Martinez? The guy what saved Dean?”

Dean, Dean, Dean… that was so familiar, where did he hear that name before. “Claire’s husband?” The man helpfully added. Oh, right! The man he saved from that crash. Yeah, he remembered it now. The last few days have been such a whirlwind that he hadn’t thought about that at all.

“Yes, yes I am. How does that…?” He was surprised when the bouncer turned aside.

“Go on in, Claire’ll want to see you first. Enjoy your stay at the Afterlife.” Well, if they were letting him in, he’d go. The first thing he did was spot the bar and walked right up to and low and behold, the woman that was riding shotgun in that mean looking pick up truck was on the other side, mixing up drinks.

“David! I didn’t think I’d see you again.” She was leaning on the counter. “I can’t thank you enough for saving Dean. I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.”

“How’s he doing?” Last he checked, he had serious internal bleeding and cracked ribs.

“He’s alive, we’re waiting for a spinal bypass implant, it’ll help with the nerve issues he’s having. Crash hurt his back something fierce. But, that ain’t here or there. The owner knows what you did for me and mine, so tonight… all your drinks are on the house, so what’s your poison?” Free drinks? No strings attached? David grinned, he could deal with that. He remembered last year when he and his friends managed to sneak into a nightclub with fake SINs and managed to get an extremely amazing cocktail.

“I think I got one for you. A place back home served it up. Tequila Old Fashioned, with a splash of cerveza. And a chili garnish.” He remembered how good they were, they ended up getting drunk and thrown out when it was found out they were just sixteen years olds, but the bars here didn’t even seem to check people’s ids. They didn’t need to know he was seventeen, and that was fine. Claire looked at him, smiling.

“A place back home served that up for you, huh? Sure thing, tiger.” She pulled out a bottle, with a blue label. “This here is Cintzon Platinum. You can’t normally find it in Night City, but the owner has a few connections south of the border, so we got the hook up.” David’s eyes widened when she poured a double into the mixing pitcher. She was treating him with a heavy hand it seemed, as she mixed up the hold fashioned, with a rocks glass rimmed with smoked chili powder.

“Normally…” She started, as she pulled out an amber bottle of beer. “We just add a bit of Broseph’s to it and call it a night, but you saved my husband, so you get this. Agave sour ale from Mexico. It mixes with the Tequila… especially well.” She floated the dark amber liquid on top of the Old Fashioned, half and half in the glass.

“One Johnny Silverhand, special order.” The glass was in front of him, he picked it up and took that first sip, held it and…

“Oh… oh! This… this is a lot better than the one I got back home!” It really was. He was just expecting rail and a cheap lager, but this… it was tart and sweet and smoky and spicy. There was no way he could afford this if he wasn’t getting them for free tonight. He raised the glass to Claire. “To Dean’s health!” He took another sip of the incredible concoction.

“Do you know where uh… does a runner named Maine have a booth or table he congregates at?” David finally asked, as he let the burn of the tequila slide down his throat. This was a really good drink and he could learn to enjoy it.

“Yeah, you meeting him tonight?” Clair asked, already fixing him a second drink as he finished the first.

“Yeah, I’m meeting him at eight. I know I’m early, but I want to impress him, you know?” Claire pointed out the booth that Maine and company used and so David took his leave from the bar and headed there. He was feeling good, a nice buzz even as he was channeling just a touch of the mystical energy he wielded to make sure he was metabolizing the alcohol correctly. He didn’t want to get drunk, he just wanted to be feeling no pain, as he finished his second drink.

He was also feeling kinda warm, from his jacket, from the booze… he shed the jacket, just in time for Claire to show up to collect his glass. She gave a low whistle, as the young man relaxed in the booth, slouching a touch. He rolled his eyes.

“Not you too, Claire.” First Misty, now Claire… he felt like he was a piece of meat being ogled by a bunch of lions or tigers on the prowl.

“I didn’t think you’d be so built, is all. You were some scrawny looking kid a couple days ago.” She said, “It explains why it was so easy for you to pull Dean out of our truck, though.” David chuckled, as he held out his right arm, closing his fist and pulling the muscles taut, the smooth lines popping against his skin, his bicep had a single vein across it when he flexed.

“What can I say? I work out.” He gave the married woman a wink, before ordering another Silverhand. Even though he hadn’t been on a run with a team yet, he already felt like a big shot, sitting here by himself. He was brought out of his daze by Claire’s chiding.

“You’re a real heart breaker, David. Be sure you don’t hurt the wrong woman. Edgerunners are a deadly bunch, and the females are deadlier than the male.” It was the same for Shadowrunners, too. Women could be vindictive if you end up playing with them. Not that he planned on doing anything like that!

By the time he half-way through his third drink, still feeling warm, a buzzy background as his senses were dulled just so, Maine showed up… the bombastic razorboy making sure that everyone knew he was here. Following him was one of the largest women that David ever seen, but that was probably Maine’s output that he had mentioned back at Turbo’s.

“Geeze, Maine… you mentioned we were meeting some scrawny med-tech…” The woman said as she took the other booth, Maine sitting right beside her. She clicked her tongue, looking David over. “Oh, if only I wasn’t taken. Or if I was ten years younger… or you were ten years older…” She shook her head.

“That your game, choomba? Gonna try takin’ my girl, that it?” Maine looked like he was mad, glaring at David, leaning in and putting his huge arm on the table. David had to think fast, try to diffuse the situation before it got ugly. He was supposed to work with this guy, not make him think he was trying to move in on his girlfriend!

Then… Maine howled with laughter. “You should see the look on your face, dawg! Hahaha! I know you ain’t gonna take Dorio, here. You might not be the scrawny kid I thought you were, but you ain’t enough man yet to handle her lovin’, I guarantee!” Oh thank god, he was just fucking with him. Everything was fine.

“So how you enjoying Night City so far? Been keeping busy?” Maine asked, then spotted the half finished drink that David was enjoying. “What’chu drinkin’? Any good?”

“Specially made Johnny Silverhand. I did something for Claire and she hooked me up. Plus my drinks are free tonight, courtesy of the owner.” David picked up the glass… and finished the drink. It was good, he could get used to drinking these. He always had a bit of an aversion to fizzy drinks, but beer was never as bad as soda, and the beer in this cocktail was… fantastic!

“Wait, wait, wait… you tellin’ me that the Queen Bitch of the Afterlife herself, Rogue Amediares is payin’ for your drinks, tonight? For something you did for her favorite bartender? The fuck you do to get that kind of bennie?” If David wasn’t just edging on the very brink of being drunk, he would think that the older, more experienced runner was jealous.

“Saved Claire’s husband’s life.” Why lie, just tell the truth. It’s exactly what he did, and he was trying to make it as a medtech in this strange, upside down world.

“No shit?”

“I managed to stabilize him, so they could transport him to a hospital. If I didn’t… I don’t think he would have made it. Sometimes it comes down to seconds.” He put down the empty glass, letting out a satisfied sigh. “As for being busy in Night City, did a few solo jobs for Regina Jones, the fixer out in Watson. She did me a solid, got me an in as an NCPD subcon. Put the extra income to use.”

He didn’t have to motion to the muscle tank he was wearing, he just implied that he used his extra spending money to get the muscle tank he was wearing. Dorio let out a low whistle of appreciation. “I think I can speak for about 90% of the female population of Night City, but we appreciate it. What do you bench?” Of course she was asking about that, thinking more about the medtech’s aesthetic instead of his skills.

“Errr… 100 kilo bench, 25 kilo curl, 150 kilo squat.” He was pretty strong for how young he was. Or at least he thought he was pretty strong. He could add more weight if he was using his own internal supply of mystical mana, but they didn’t need to know that. He pondered a moment. “I live on the dangerous side of determined, Dorio.”

“Oh, I’ll say. To get that and be completely organic? I can’t say I’m not impressed. Lot of hours at the gym, huh?” David shrugged at her words. He did spend a lot of hours at the gym, but only after he had finished his homework. Working out helped center him, and a sound body made for a sound adept, helping his magic flow better and through him.

“Coach said if you wanna make it in the fight game, you gotta put in the work. As you can see, I put in the work.” He felt… no small amount of pride in what he had achieved. Hard work and determination had made him lean and strong. He watched as the large woman leaned in close.

“Fight game, huh? Y’any good?” Someone else was asking if he was any good at boxing. He had a feeling he was going to field that question all the time while he was here, but that was okay. He liked proving to people that just because he was 100% organic, he was more than capable of fighting.

“Sure. Maybe I’ll show you one day.” That was enough to get the woman to sit back down, whistling.

“I like this one, Maine. He’s a keeper!” Claire came by at this point, with a beer for Maine and Dorio, as well as another Silverhand for David. Nothing ventured, nothing gained…

“Hey, Claire… these specialty Silverhands that you’re making for the kid, how much they cost regularly. I think I want one.” Maine asked, popping the cap off his lager. David didn’t dare think how much they cost, because he probably would never get another one of these after tonight.

“Regular Silverhand sets you back one hundred eddies, Maine. You know that. But this specially made Silverhand? Five hundred.” David snorted. With a fourth silverhand, that was 2000 eurodollars worth of booze in just over an hour. Oh well, they sure were tasty, and he watched Maine order one for himself.

“So we gonna meet the rest of your crew? So far all I met is your wheelman, your mainline, and one of your deckers.” David asked, motioning to Dorio. Honestly, he was waiting to see what kind of show Maine ran, and he didn’t have to wait long for the decker from three days ago to show up, Kiwi… dressed in that same pink trench coat. She narrowed her eyes at David, her eyes flashing. “Speak of the devil.”

“Hmmm.” Kiwi was still standing, not yet sitting around the table. “You look a little more capable without that gaudy jacket you were wearing.” She said as she pulled up a chair and joined them, motioning for a beer to be brought out for her.

“Regretting not letting me shack up at your place already, Kiwi?” David said with a smirk and chuckle.

“No, not really. You look more capable, but that just means you're some meathead idiot.” Kiwi said, totally and completely neutering David’s charismatic quip about her easy refusal from a couple of days ago. “You’re an unknown unknown Martinez. I don’t like that. I don’t like any of that. You’re going to have to prove yourself before I even deign to give you my agent number.”

Ouch. Trust issues much? Gotta have trust when running together, else things all go to drek and quick. Maine, however, noticed something else, frowning.

“Where’s Lucy? I said this was all hands on deck.” He looked around, making sure she wasn’t doing her aloof off to the side thing, or sidled up to the bar, or picksocketing the mercs that weren't paying attention.

“I sent her a text. She said she was going to be a bit late, working on some project of hers. You know how she can be.” Kiwi said, as she received her bottle of beer, and produced a long metal straw. David pondered why she didn’t just take off her mask. The train of thought collapsed when someone else entered the bar. Another of Maine’s crew.

“Hey, hey, everybody! Pilar is in the house!” It was a lanky man, with too long cyberlimbs, sporting a mohawk and a monoeye set, he joined the table, sitting on the same bench as David. “This the medtech you were talking about, Maine? Good Christ, you know he’s just made outta meat, right?”

“Yeah, I do, Pilar. David, meet Pilar, my crew’s techie. He might be a glitterhead vidiot on the best of days, but the man has a way with machines that borders on the phenomenal.” He turned to Pilar from David. “Pilar, this is David. He’s new in town, he’s gonna be our new Medtech, so you best be on your best behavior so when someone tries to ventilate your gonk ass, he won’t mind puttin’ you back together.”

“Sure, sure, we’ll be the best of chooms, won’t we Davie!” Pilar put an incredibly long arm around David’s shoulders and pulled him in close. His way too long fingers poked and prodded his shoulder. “Wow, you’re kinda firm, ain’tcha?”

“... it’s David.” David replied, as he tried to slip away from the other man. “And, uh, don’t touch me, omae.” The other man snorted, before seemingly slithering into the bench that was behind them.
“Yeah, yeah, sure thing, choom! No touchy feely.” David wasn’t sure what to think about Pilar, but he was in particular way too friendly for his liking, but it took all types to work in this business. And for all he knew, he could be just fucking with him, so he would give Pilar a chance to show off just how good he is or isn’t.

“I know you’re upset, but you just can’t kill Emmerich. He’s just doin’ his job.” That sounded like Falco, as he entered with a pale blonde woman and… well, it was a girl with teal skin and hair in an oversized puffy coat, acting like she had been deeply insulted by someone.

“You know how I feel about shit like this, Falco! Every time! EVERY FUCKING TIME!” The foul mouthed moppet looked like she was going to have a temper tantrum.

“You can’t help how people feel, Becca. It’s just how it is.” The other woman said, as they approached the booth.

“That’s easy for you to say, Luce… no one’s ever tried to keep you out of a… bar…” She trailed off as she approached the table, spotted David… before hopping onto it and crawling over to the young man.

“Uh, can I help you?” David asked her, as she really started to invade his personal space. He tried to push her away, but that was a mistake as she latched onto his arm.

“Anyone tell ya yer kinda firm, big boy?” She asked, wrapping her body around his arm. She was latched on tight.

“That’s what I said!” Pilar added from where he was sitting, while David tried to get, who he could only guess was the Rebecca that Kiwi mentioned at Turbo’s and finding it to be a very hard task at hand.

“C’mon, you had your fun, you oversexed twelve year old, now leggo!” At that, she slid right off, and flipped him off with both hands.

“Fuck you, too, choom! I’ll have you know I’m 22! I’m just small!” She took her seat, Lucy sitting next to her. David could see her eyes flash as she looked over him, whereas Rebecca just pouted where she was sitting, batting away Pilar’s needling as she got shot down by the new medtech.

“You know this guy doesn’t have any chrome, Maine?” Lucy said, finishing her scan. “Or bioware. Or anything at all really. No chipsocks, no agent, no integral port.”

“Neo-luddism, Luce. You know how it is.” Maine said, waving her concerns off. David, on the other hand, looked at her. She was pretty, so he could only guess what kind of bodysculpting she had done, so who knew what she used to look like, but he wasn’t one to judge. Not everyone was built like he was.

“Best ice is not having any chrome at all, don’t’cha know.” David said to her with a smirk. It was true! Couldn’t get hacked if you didn’t have anything that could get hacked. Maine found their antics pretty funny, but held up a hand to stop all the arguing.

“Alright, alright, alright. Enough jibber jabber, I asked y’all here because David’s our new medic. He’s good at what he does, and we’ve needed one for a while, so don’t make too much fun of him, y’gonna need him to fix your ass one of these days.” He turned to look at Kiwi. “Kiwi, you got the detes on Maxim? Fixer still wants that limo data. Can’t imagine who’d want to know where an Arasaka exec goes to get his dick wet, but it takes all kinds.”

“I do. What we know is that, after he drops off Mifune for the night, he likes to indulge in some clean wholesome bloodsports. So if his favorite fighter, who I’m sure is more than just someone he bets money on, were to bite it during a bout, he’ll have to go drown his sorrows at Jacked & Coke. At that point, we picksocket the shard for the limo, then klep the navigation data. Easy.”

It was a good plan. All they had to do was rig a fight and they get him at his favorite bar. Nothing too it. Unfortunately, before Maine could tell them the plan to rig the fight, they were interrupted.

“Maine, unfortunately klepping the data using Maxim’s credentials is impossible.” The speaker was a tall man, white hair, and three optics on one side of his face.

“Faraday… you comin’ to meet us in the flesh? What’s wrong? Why the change of plans.” It was strange for Faraday to change plans like this, he wasn't that kind of guy. Or meeting them in public, either. Afterlife or not.

“It’s going to be all over the news in an hour, but twenty minutes ago, Maxim was found sitting in a dirty, dingy alley.” The words hung in the air. “His heart resting in his lap.”

The target, Maxim Kuznetsov, was the latest victim of the Night City Reaper. And the first corpo that anyone knew of. This… changed things. Change things for the fixer and his hired crew, and things for Night City. If the Reaper was going to be targeting corpos now, maybe someone would do something about the psycho.

Chapter Text

Night City, 2075

There was a silence that hung over the table, as the fixer excused himself. “We’ll be in touch, Maine. Once my feelers find out what Mifune's detail is doing now, I’ll send you the details.” Faraday excused himself, as Maine… holding his half drunk cocktail grimaced, the hand clutching the glass soon shattering it into a hundred thousand shards.

“The fuckin’ Reaper. That fuckin’ Reaper!” He wasn’t happy, he was bristling as the panels that made up the cyberware of his body fluttered and twitched, even as Dorio stroked his arm, trying to calm him down.

“C’mon, babe… I know how you feel about that psycho, but there’s nothing we can do.” She was calming him down, even as the big man continued to growl before he grabbed his beer and chugged it down, letting out a tired sigh after he finished.

“Geeze, boss, you still upset about that business a coupla months ago?” Pilar asked, the fact that a table,a bench seat, his sister, Lucy, and the new guy were between him and Maine offered him a bit of safety from the big man.

“Still mad, Pilar? What kind of dumb gonk question is that, you fuckin’ glitter head! Of course I’m still pissed about it!” He ordered another beer from the bar, and David… was curious. The man looked unusually calm and collected, but one mention of the Reaper sent him screaming and shouting.

“Do I wanna know what happened, Maine?” David asked as soon as he found his voice. The big man looked at him, frowned, waiting for his beer to arrive and downed most of it. There was an uneasy silence hanging over the table once more.

“A couple months back, we did a job. Biotechnica gig, we were supposed to hack some information on a new CHOOH2 formulation. Easy gig, in and out, get the edds to spend. But… uh… Sasha, our runner at the time, she found some information while diggin’ around. Biotechnica had a painkiller, Securicine. Ever heard of it?” Maine asked David. He hadn’t, but he nodded just the same. “Turned out that the corp knew that Securicine caused neurodegeneration, pretty bad at that. Killed Sasha’s mother. So what does she do? She uploads the ENTIRETY of Biotechnica’s database about it to NN54 news!”

The big man let out a small chuckle. “She got messed up pretty bad by the security bots, but I managed to get her to her in time, and pulled her out of there! We got her to the ripper in Watson, uh… what’s his name.” Mained looked over to Dorio. “You know the one, had the crazy guy nearby, in the basement of some woo shop?”

“Viktor Vektor. Patched Sasha up and got her from the brink. He recommended she take a few weeks off, that was fine. We did a job or two with Kiwi before, but we were always planning on bringing Sasha back once she was 100%.” Dorio took over for this bit. David would have to ask Viktor if he met Maine and confirm the story. Vik was good, but too many runners treated their ripper or back alley docs or whomever as a private emergency room where they can get fixed up if the eddies were right, without taking into account that these guys were typically unlicensed. Viktor Vektor was the exception to prove the rule.

“Viktor Vektor, what a quack. Choom took one look at me and asked if I ever thought about chromin’ down. Why would I want to do a gonk thing like that?” Maine shook his head. David could think of a couple of reasons. The Curse, for one. Cybernetic Implant Rejection Syndrome, by any other name… Cyberpsychosis. “Anyway, about two weeks later, I get a text message from Sasha. One world. Help. So of course I go, quick as I can and I find her sitting on her couch, back to the door.” He shook his head.

“Sasha was the heart of this crew, David. You have to understand, she was something else. She was like an angel, sometimes. And still was, even though she had that absolute look of terror on her face…” David could read the writing on the wall, then nodded a long.

“Heart resting in her lap, right?” Another victim of the Night City Reaper. Why the hell wasn’t anyone in the city doing anything about this monster, haunting the allies and megabuildings of the city?

“Got it in one, dawg. I’m gonna find that sucka and I’m gonna pull his heart outta his fuckin’ ass.” He rolled his shoulders and let out a breath, calming down. “It’s kinda why I been puttin' out feelers for a medtech we can trust. If we had one, maybe Sasha don’t need to have to take it easy, maybe she’d’ve been with us when the Reaper came a-callin’, maybe she’d still be here.” That made a whole lot of sense. It was one thing to lose someone you cared about during a run, that was just business… but to have some insane serial killer, off them in their own home? That was a nightmare.

“One problem, Maine. With Faraday putting the job on hold, we don’t have any work. I don’t know about the new kid, but I got bills that need to be paid.” Kiwi spoke up. No work meant no money and in a lot of cases, no money meant being tossed out into the street.

“Why can’t you just do weirdo netrunning contracts like Lucy does, Kiwi?” Rebecca was nursing her beer, looking at the older woman. Kiwi narrowed her eyes at the pint sized solo.

“Because whatever Lucy is doing, she won’t share. Not even with her own mentor.” Kiwi looked from Rebecca to Lucy, the other netrunner had lit up a cigarette, impassively smoking, before she blew out a series of smoke rings.

“Personal biz, Kiwi. You know how it is.” Lucy looked at her, the end of her cigarette glowing cherry red. “Never trust anyway, right? That’s what you always say, isn’t it?” The older woman pulled out her own cigarette. She didn’t need this right now, having her own words thrown back at her. Maine took back control of the situation.

“Alright, enough of this catty bullshit I don’t want part of. I’ll ask around, see if any fixers have any work for a crew and we’ll get something done by the end of the week, that fair?” He barely waited for anyone to answer. “Good. Nice meet up, try not to eat the new guy.”

David got his agent out and managed to get everyone’s contact details… and with a look from Maine, he even got Kiwi’s detes, too! “Look, I got the info for the Watson fixer, maybe I can ask her if she has any jobs for us?” Maine looked at him and chortled.

“Ain’t the kid cute, babe? Actin’ like we don’t know Regina ourselves.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, David. I can get us some work, just gonna take a day or two.”

“In the meantime, tomorrow…” Dorio started. “I need you to meet me here.” Her eyes flashed and David’s agent pinged with some coordinates. “Tomorrow, of course. I want to see just what you know. Could be fun.”

“Awww, don’t beat him up too much, we want the med to like you, Dorio.” The two moved to leave, as Maine flicked the eddies needed to cover everyone’s drinks, except the special man of the night who was getting his for free. Kiwi ashed her cigarette and stood up as well.

“Free word of advice, kid. You trust everyone too easily. I can see it written on your face. That’s just gonna get you a whole lot of hurt.” With that piece of advice, she left, leaving David with just Lucy, Rebecca, Pilar, and Falco. The taller man with the mohawk and long cyberlimbs managed to squirm up into a seat all his own.

“Well, this party seems to be winding down. Who wants to blow this joint and move too Lizzie’s or somethin’?” He looked around, a leering grin on her face. David had no idea what he was talking about, he had only been in town for the last few days. Rebecca sighed like she heard this a million times before.

“You dumb gonk! You’re still banned from Lizzie’s! I was talking with Rita the other day, you tried to get handsy! The only reason they didn’t cut the head in your pants off is that you're my dumb, gonkhead brother! Ugh!” She looked at him, and threw her empty bottle at him that snatched out of the air. “All you think about is sex and glitter!”

“That ain’t true at all, sis! I think of stuff! Like booze… and brain dances… and like…” He was pondering, thinking about what else it was he thought about. His sister wasn’t buying it.

“Ugh, Falco! I need a ride back to the apartment, my dumb fuck brother can find his own way home.” Rebecca turned to David. “Hey, after Dorio beats the shit out of you, if you aren’t unconscious, give me a ring. I wanna see if that shootin’ iron you got is just for show.” She grabbed her brother by the ear and started pulling him out of the bar. Falco looked at the two, and shrugged.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, rookie.” Lucy watched their three compatriots leave, before pulling out a cigarette case. “Smoke?”

“Uh… no, but…” He took the offered cigarette. “I suppose it’s never too late to try, right?” It was just the two of them, and he was feeling all four drinks he had at this point, as he took the cigarette. She held out a light and he took his first draw, before getting into a series of hacking coughs. “Smooth…”

At least he got to see Lucy smile. “Never too late to try, huh?” She shook her head, her hair scintillating in the low level light. That couldn’t have been cheap, whatever it was she had done.

“Never had much opportunity to enjoy it with pleasant company before.” David replied, the second draw of the cigarette was much easier then the first. He heard Lucy chuckle.

“Oh, is that what I am? Pleasant company?” She took a draft from her beer. She was hard to read, David had to admit. She had to be hiding something, but he wasn’t quite sure. It was almost spooky.

“More pleasant than Pilar, at least.” The other man seemed like one of those geniuses that was extremely proficient with exactly one single thing and a complete failure at everything else. Probably better at parties if he wasn’t drunk or on some kind of narcotic. He wasn’t going to sell him short, though. He’d have to see how he did a job before making that kind of assumption.

“Getting shot at by gangoons is more pleasant than Pilar’s company. He’s a perverted creep, but when it comes to modifying your guns? He is… admittedly the best.” She shook her head, finishing off her cigarette. “I should probably get going, I’ll see you around, David. Maybe we’ll work together. If you ever feel up too, I like to go for a run every night. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster. He shrugged on his coat, managed to wish Clair a good night, and headed back to Vik’s clinic to turn in. He had… it seemed that he had a busy day tomorrow, meeting up with Dorio for a boxing match, and then after that was done, Rebecca was taking him shooting. Why did he have to be blasted across time, space, and possibly dimension for girls to start talking to him like wasn’t some dweeby kid?

The next morning was different than yesterday. It was time he got back into his old groove of training. Up at the bust of dawn, he slipped into a pair of shorts and a hoodie and managed to get a run in, up and down the entirety of Little China, before half an hour on the heavy bag, followed by a set of five by fives with Vik’s weights. He thought about going four rounds with the sparring partner, but with him meeting Dorio at her gym, that didn’t seem necessary.

One shower later, he was ready for the day, as he threw some clothes and made his way to the gym that Dorio said to meet them at. He was going to pick up something to eat on the way there, as he thought about what the hell the large woman was going to do with him. There was a part of him, having seen how excited she was talking to him last night, that she wanted to fight. The only good sparring had managed to get in was with that damn robot.

He came across the gym, Dorio waiting outside for him. “So you did decide to show up, that’s good. Part of me was afraid that you wouldn’t show up for the bout.” She nodded along. “I respect that, shows you got nuts and guts, but brains? Eh, how’s that classical song go? Two outta three ain’t bad?”

“I’m plenty smart, Dorio. Wouldn’t be a medic if I wasn’t.” He followed her in, and saw the square circle they got set up. “So what’s the plan? You want me to show you my moves? See how I handle a sparring bot?” He also saw Maine standing next to it and the bell. He was going to be the timekeeper and scorer for the bout if it came down to points, but there didn’t seem to be a referee.

“None of that, we’re gonna see how you stand up to a real opponent.” She rolled her neck and shoulders, as she shed her jacket. “Me!” She hopped into the ring like it was the easiest thing in the world. That was… fairly impressive.

“Well, Dorio… you shouldn’t threaten me with a good time.” He smirked, as he took off his jacket and got up into the ring. “I’m ready whenever you are. Got any rules you want me to follow?” He watched as Dorio got into the ring, all smiles. He was worried. She was smiling like a crocodile, or some kind of large cat ready to tear into their meat.

“Four, three minute rounds. Thirty seconds between each. Maine’s keeping score.” She took to her corner, getting ready for the bell to ring. It was always the absolute worst part about getting into these timed bouts, the ring of the first bell… just waiting and waiting and waiting. It made time slow down more than his improved reflexes ever could.

“Anything else? We goin’ bareknuckle for this?” He took to his corner, waiting for this. He could already feel that the woman wasn’t going to go easy on him and he had the disadvantage of not having any ‘ware on him, but… he wasn’t going to let that slow him down. He saw her slip on a pair of thin gloves.

“If you wanna be bare knuckle, be my guest, but if you break your hand, you’re paying for it.” She had just finished speaking when the bell rang and the bout started. He brought his arms up, and hunched himself down. He needed to see what Dorio’s reach was, as the two approached each other. It turned out that her reach was more than a few inches longer than his own and it was only his fine tuned instincts that allowed him to lean back and watch as Dorio’s punch go wide. She wasn’t taking him seriously, he saw how lazy she tossed that punch at him. That hurt, right in the pride. The one thing he was really good at back home was being able to punch things, and the first time he found someone else willing to see how he does, and they weren’t taking him seriously at all.

He was bobbing and weaving the whole time, only able to get his own probing punches, and even then, he only managed to get one for every three that his opponent threw at him. Dorio had an incredibly powerful defense, covered all her bases, and no faults that he could spot at this time. Sure, he wasn’t hitting her all that hard, because he was trying to figure out where her weaknesses were, but the ratio wasn’t working in his favor, as he did rather light and quickly fired off taps to probe how she reacted. He could tell that she knew exactly what he was doing, too. That he was just sizing her up in this first round.

“You got good form, kid. But it’s gonna take more than just that to beat me!” Dorio taunted, as she threw a flurry of punches. His finely tuned danger senses weren't something that he could turn on and off, but that wasn't the problem with them. The problem, was that he had decided he wasn’t going to rely on his improved reflexes if he could help it, this was something friendly between the two of them. Knowing where the strike was going to come from wouldn’t do him much good if he couldn’t bob or weave away from it, and he found himself raising his arms to block her strikes. They were heavy hurt bombs, as his old coach used to call them, so he brought his arms in closer to defend himself, and to use his own body to brace them.

He was keeping count of the seconds in his head, the round was almost over, but he needed to do something that wasn’t just a random defense probe, he had to give as good as he was getting, but Dorioo was on a whole level beyond the sparring bot he used the last couple of days, or anyone else he had ever fought before. Four rounds might have been too much for him, but he had already dug himself in deep in this hell of his own making, one that he eagerly jumped in with both feet.

His arms were already feeling tired, even in the first round, as the seconds counted down to the first round bell when he saw it. His opponent was taking a step forward, her arm shooting out. That was the opening he needed! He slid to the side, the punch going wide and he launched one of his very own, the calloused knuckles of his left fist slamming into Dorio’s side. A picture perfect blow to the liver. Or it would have been, had Dorio not had synskin and synthmuscle and neofibers protecting her organs in her torso, but the nerve cluster still fired off and she stumbled into the ropes, just as the bell rang.

David headed to his corner, rubbing his sore arms. He was lucky that he was tougher than he looked, because he was certain that his arms were going to break if they took much more punishment.. He looked over to Dorio. She didn’t look happy, she probably expected to knock him out in the first round, but no… big bad David Martinez had to make her work for it. Even the one major hit he landed, only sent her stumbling. It didn’t put her down, and it certainly didn’t endear him to her.

He had to think, he couldn’t treat this like any other fight he had been in, before or after that fuck up in the basement of an Aztechnology warehouse. She was strong, she was skilled, and she knew just what she was doing. Unless he wanted to use his own ability to reinforce his body, something he wasn’t going to do in a bout against someone that wasn’t also an adept, his coach told him that magic was supposed to be used by people that also had magic in friendly spars and the like. On the other hand, she was probably just as chipped in as Maine was, and that was an advantage all of its own.
He was brought out of his thoughts when the bell rang, the rest was over and it was time to start the second round, as the two entered the ring. This time, David knew that he had to get up close, past her range, turn her advantage of reach into a disadvantage. It was a risky move, as he had to get close, enter the range of her punches… and try not to get hit. But once he was there, the plan was simple! Hammer her down like a bent nail!

He was running on nothing but instincts and taught skill, eight years of learning and training, working and discipline were going to bring him to victory! Even as he approached the outer reaches of her range, he made a choice. He was going to use all his tools that he had at his disposal, except perhaps his magic. Even though he was nothing but raw meat, and Dorio had more chrome than his mother’s Americar, he wasn’t going to bust out on his abilities just yet. He wanted them to see that he was capable, that he didn’t need his hand held.

As soon as he was just inside her range, he lashed out with several blows, firing off like a machine gun from all angles. Dorio had to move to keep her guard up, but fortunately for her, and unfortunately for David, she was a lot tougher then he was, whatever she was made up of was sterner stuff then flesh, bone, and sinew and she took them with a smile. That was going to pop up in his nightmares if he didn’t survive this.

That wasn’t good, and he realized his mistake too late and caught a huge fist right into his gut, knocking the wind out of his sails and sending him to the mat, hard. He cursed, as he tasted canvas and worse… was that smug look of satisfaction on Dorio’s face, even as Maine started to count the fall. He got back to his feet, only managing to fully stand before the big man got to 8. He cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and brought his hands up again. New plan, don’t get hit, and hit her back.

He had to land another hit in the next 45 seconds, but he had no idea if he could. He managed to throw a few punches, coming in from all angles, but Dorio’s defense still held. He didn’t want to do it. He had to prove to himself that he was more than just the sum of his parts, that he could prove to them and himself that in the one thing that he trained more than anything in his life… he didn’t need magic for a friendly spar. He ducked under a blow, and landed his punch, burying his fist deep into Dorio’s abdomen. For all that it did but push the large woman a few inches back.

The bell had rung again. Round two was over. She could hit way harder than he could, and she was way bigger than he was, too. But all that bulk she had made her slow, predictable, allowing the wiry and whippy David Martinez to duck under Dorio’s blows. But he was having a hard time finding any openings to exploit. Worse still, she could take a lot of punishment. Much more than he could, every blow he landed was a perfectly timed punch that made use of the smallest openings she had when she attacked. Every blow she landed was a devastating punch capable of taking a 300lbs heavy bag right off its hook. They were not evenly matched at all, and he had to use his own talents to close the gap.

Once the third round started, David went to see just how much punishment she could take, but he misjudged the angle on a punch Dorio had thrown his way and while he mostly rolled with it, he still took a good, solid hit to the left shoulder that sent him into the ropes. He was going to be feeling that all night, the heavy blow feeling like it was going to tear his arm off at the shoulder. He went on to the defensive, bending around her blows like a reed in the wind. He needed to think, he needed space, but most importantly, he needed to last to the fourth round. If he could survive, then that was good enough for him.

But there was part of him that wanted to win. It wasn’t enough that he just survived, he wanted to win! And if he was going to win, he would have to land a few more hits! He took a step back, slid around the over extended arm… and slammed several jabs into Dorio’s side, before following up with a chopping hook. All of them were solid hits, magic or no magic, he could survive this!

He was going to finish this, and he knew just how he was going to do it, even as the third and final thirty second rest period started with the ring of a bell. “You doin’ alright, Dorio? You ready to call it?” He called out to his opponent. He wasn’t lacking for his cocky attitude, he was losing, but he wasn’t going to give Dorio the satisfaction of being quiet about. The woma, for her part, was wearing a smirk on her face, as she shouted back.
“Fuck you, Martinez! I got one round left to whoop your ass!” He was sure if she wasn’t wearing gloves that she would be flipping him off. Well, it was time to end this. He could do it, he had seen enough of Dorio’s fighting style and figured out the exact timing of her punches. He could do this. He was not just surviving, he was winning this one! One blow, both her and Maine wanted to see just what he was capable of doing? Then he’ll show them both.

The round started… he took his first, then his second step… there was a part of him that wanted to use his increased and improved perceptions, to dilate time and just lay into her. But there was another part of him that decided that right or wrong, he was going to win with some kind of honor, and be able to hold his head up high when he did it. He leaned back and to the side… drawing right arm and fist low and behind him, filling his fist with the mystical penetrating energy of his own reserves of magic. He saw as Dorio’s guard fell open and as soon as it did… his arm shot out like a bolt of lightning, slamming right into the left side of her head! She looked almost completely over her right shoulder from the blow.

There was quite a bit of pain in his hand. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out that Dorio had a cyberskull of some sort, but he hadn’t broken his hand at least, though his knuckles were bleeding. He realized something just then, his guard was down… and he didn’t hear Dorio fall. He turned, just in time to catch a big hand on the chin, sending him down flat.

He came too smelling the foulest thing he ever smelled, and came too watching as Maine capped a bottle of smelling salts. He recognized the bottle, they must have took it from his medkit. He looked at him, smirking. “Well, aren’t you a brave, dumb little man? I’ve seen some of those Sixth Street suckas go four rounds with Dorio, but ain’t no fool dumb enough to go at her without any chrome.” Speaking of Dorio, she helped him up to his feet.

“You got heart kid, but I’m not sure if your head is in the right place. Being an Edgerunner, living on the edge like we do, Chrome is the one thing that separates the haves from have nots. I hope you a much better medtech” She cracked her neck. “Though I gotta admit, some of those punches were pretty heavy, and you sure know what you’re doin’. But you ain’t gonna last long against chromed out huscle if you keep like that.”

The two headed out, talking amongst themselves, but David couldn’t hear them. Not over the sound of the throbbing ache in his head, but there was a MaxDoc in the pocket of his jacket that he quickly used that took care of that. It’s what his sin of pride got him, it seemed. What he got for trying to do that on his own without any assistance at all.

He looked down at his hands, and his knuckles were busted open, and he borrowed some bandages from the gym to wrap his hands up. “God, I’m such an idiot!” He cursed himself before he remembered that he said he’d contact the solo, Rebecca, after he was done working with Dorio. There was going to be no talking to her, because he can just imagine the first thing she’d say to him.

He pulled out his agent, but before he could gave Rebecca a call, he saw that there was a text from Maine. It was a list of what he thought David could use, a list of cybernetics that Dorio suggested would do him some good. Optics, bone bracing, muscle fibers, rotors on his joints. They even added that he didn’t even need too get EMP threading if he needed to convince the rest of his luddite friends that he wasn’t chromed up. What was he supposed to reply to that? He just sent a thanks to Maine, and that he would do his research.

Of course, he didn’t need to do any research. He knew exactly what getting chrome would do too him, and he didn’t want to end up accidentally turning himself into a burn out. There was nothing worse for a mage, even an adept, to suffer. But he wasn’t about to argue with Maine about it right now. That’ll be for another time.

With that sorted, he was able to call Rebecca and see what she wanted to do. It rang once, twice, three times… and just before he thought to hang up and send her a text instead, she picked up.

“Oh! Hey, David… Dorio finished beatin’ the shit outta ya? If you're up too it, can you meet me at Megabuilding H10?” Why did it always go back to H10… his first gig that nearly went tits up was there, just two days ago.

“Only my pride is hurt, at least I managed to last four rounds with her, which is more then can be said about others. Or at least Maine tells me. I’ll meet you at the base of the building. I’ll even buy lunch for you if you haven’t ate yet.” He wanted to ingratiate himself with these folks, make sure they would watch out for his back as much as he watched out for theirs. No one wanted their healer to get hurt, but they had a tendency to draw enemy fire. Geek the mage first, after all.

“No shit? You went the distance with Dorio? Pity you didn’t win, though. But maybe those muscles aren’t for show, after all.” There was a brief pause. “Unlike that gun I saw you carrying. My choom Wilson at the Second Amendment can take a look at that piddly little peashooter you got and get’chu a real man’s gun.” Sure, he didn’t have much loyalty to Ares Macrotechnology, but the Ares Predator, even the fifth variation of the weapon, was a classic for a reason! No accounting for taste from some people.

He decided to take the NCART back to Watson. As a non-resident of Megabuilding H10, he couldn’t get a direct drop off, but only a couple minutes of walking and he spotted the crew’s gun obsessed solo. She had to be four feet tall, small instead of young. Which was fair. This was the opportunity for David to make up for last night.

“Hey, Rebecca. Thanks for agreeing to this. I want to apologize for uh… last night.” David started, which was absolutely true. He shouldn’t have said that, and he shouldn’t have tried to poke her away, either. Still, she shouldn't have tried to latch herself to his arm, either.

“You mean when you called me an oversexed twelve year old after you saw my jacket unfurled?” Well, he didn’t make it sound so crass, but he could already tell what kind of person that Rebecca was, just hanging out with her directly. “Nah, I’m fuckin’ with ya, choom. They say to flaunt it if you got it, so I gotta flaunt what I got!”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Rebecca, you’re at least cute.” Was that the right thing to say? She was cute, in the way that short girls always were. She looked at him and was completely wide eyed… chopsticks half way between her mouth and the oyster bucket she was eating out of.

“Ya think I’m cute? Like no shit, really cute?” This felt like a trap. Like it didn’t matter what he said, that he was going to end up stepping in it. She was completely shocked into silence, as she continued to eat, finishing her lunch. “It doesn’t matter what ya think, but…” She took a deep breath. “Thanks for saying so.”

David rolled his eyes, all he did was claim that she was cute, and she was taking it as a complete dig against her as a person and a mercenary. Sure, last night she was pretty eccentric, but anyone in such a dangerous job would have to be. No normal person wakes up one day and decides that they want to be a runner going against the corporations. True, the groping was weird, but from what he could tell, she was a young woman trying to deal with being… unconventional. Once he finished his own lunch, and tossed the trash, Rebecca grabbed him by the wrist and was dragging him off into the building, towards the elevator. It, like just about everything else in this town, had a dozen ads and like eight televisions playing the news. How could these people live like this?

“You’ll like Wilson, he can take a look at’cher little peashooter and see what can be done ‘bout it. He might be a bit of a vidiot like my bro, but he’s good at what he does.” She was really building this guy up as the elevator came to a stop and right there was the store she was talking about. 2nd Amendment, in red neon. He found himself dragged into the store, as Rebecca shouted to Wilson she was renting a lane in the range.

“Did that all just happen, holy shit!” David was shocked and surprised that Rebecca was able to get everything done as quickly as she did. She was a force to be reckoned with, despite her pint size build. She pulled out her pistols and showed them off. They were pink and blue and she explained that she carried a power pistol in case she needed to put down the big ones, and a tech pistol, so she could shoot through walls.

“How the hell do you shoot through walls…?” If the bullets were hyper penetrating, maybe that would make sense, but… that pistol was way too small to have a heavy enough bullet to do that! She looked at him like he had horns growing out of his neck. He knew very well what that look looked like, because he had seen people back home that did, in fact, have horns growing out of their neck.

“Are you for real, David? Really? Maybe I misread ya and you’re a total gonk head, but this is a nice little Omaha, it’s a tech pistol. Once I tag someone with my cybereyes, I can track’em and blast’em with my pistol if I got it fully charged. Ya follow?” Well, he wasn’t sure how that worked. Charging? What is some kind of laser weapon? He watched as he demonstrated it and… ah, it was a miniature rail gun. That would make sense, the more power you dumped into the magrail, the faster the bullet would be. “Now spill about your gun, I wanna know all about this sexy metal length of yours.”

David rolled his eyes as he drew the Ares Predator, and placed it on the counter of the shooting lane they were on. “Well, there you go. Take it as you will. Predator V smartgun.” He motioned for her to pick up and hold it in her hands. It was a little too big for her, the Predator was a big gun and even David thought that… well, it was the iconic runner gun after all, even if he felt like a bit of a poser buying one as soon as he could.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable.” She said, as soon as she picked it up, pointing it down the line. She pulled the hammer back and then the trigger… but nothing happened when the hammer fell. She frowned, pulling the hammer back, using the hammer release button, and tried it in double action… but again, there was no pew pew from the shootin’ iron in her hand. “I think your gun is broken.” She told David, who took the gun, his hand wrapped around the handle like it was in a glove. He aimed down the line with his left hand, the data from the smartlink being uploaded in real time to his contacts.

He pulled back on the hammer… then on the trigger… and the gun fired, landing square on its target. He fired again, again, and again. Not every shot was dead on center, but he was able to remain on the center target that was set up on the down range. Soon, the mag was empty, which dropped out as soon as the slide was stopped open. He caught the releasing mag with his right hand, and placed them both on the counter. “You wanna know what the secret is?” She did… she really did. It wasn’t that loud a gun, but watching David shoot it… she wanted to know more about it, what the secrets were.

“Okay, first of all, it has a custom molded grip, set to my hands and my hands only. Anyone else would find it incredibly uncomfortable. The gun has a smartlink, it’s connected to my commlink, which are connected to…” He reached up at his face and removed one of his contacts. “My contacts. It feeds targeting data to me, and allows me to shoot from behind cover or around corners. Of course, the gun itself is more to be carried often, drawn almost never.” Rebecca frowned at the explanation. Why would someone carry a gun that they never planned on ever using?

“So what you’re saying is that the gun is doing all the work? That makes it sound like a crutch, David. You’re being carried by your equipment. I, on the other hand, can duel wield from the hip! You know how many hours that took? Hundreds!” She didn’t seem all that happy to hear that. “But what about when I tried to shoot it, but why didn’t it go boom?” Guns were supposed to go boom when she pulled the trigger, it was the sight and the sound and the smell that really set her off.

“Glad you asked, Rebecca… I got a cybersafety built in the ring I wear on my left index finger. Unless it’s within 30 cm of the ring, it’s not firing.’” He was proud of that purchase, nothing more embarrassing than a shadowrunner getting geeked by his own Predator. Wasn’t going to let that happen to him!

“Wow, that’s really clever, actually.” Rebecca was impressed with his forethought to have such a feature on his gun. Sure beat the safety system that her gonkhead of a brother tried to implement that one time. She gave a small shudder as she remembered that happening, it was not pretty.

“Wish it was my idea, but the gun shop back home said it was pretty much the best protection money could buy against your own gun, and only set me back ten creds.” Still, he had a good time with Rebecca, talking with her about guns, and talking about which guns he should have as a backup.

“If I only carry my gun for intimidation, why would I need another one, chummer?” It was a good question. He didn’t need to have another gun to carry to intimidate people, did he? Nah, not really. But of course, Rebecca wasn’t focused on the fact that he claimed he didn’t need a backup gun, no she was focused on something different after all.

“It’s CHOOM, you gonk! Or choomba. Or choombatta, if you’re an old timer. Chummer? Chummer sounds like a dessert made out of fish guts and blood!” She was the only person that had taken offense to him saying chummer instead of choom. She shook her head, hands in her pockets as they left the Second Amendment shop. “And no one has ever called you out on that? Ugh, I should take you under my wing, show you everything Night City has to offer… even teach you how to be right.”

They finished up at the Megabuilding, and sadly, had to go their separate ways. “I actually had a fun time, Choom. I’ll hit you up if I ever need someone to tag along with on a solo gig. If you’re a better medic then you are a shooter, then we should be preem.” Rebecca headed back to her apartment, David headed back to the Clinic and helped Vik clean up after the last patient he had. He was, as the ripper doc put it, a gusher.

That took up the rest of the evening, minus the time he took to order out something for dinner, but decided that after he finished his meal that it was time for his nightly run. He had to be serious about his training, especially since he only managed barely to survive against Dorio, and only then because she underestimated him in the first rounds, before knocking him out on his ass. She was a better fighter then he was, and it was a humbling experience that he had went through, and he was thankful for it.

He threw on his shorts and hoodie again, and took out in the night of Night City. He had no idea what was waiting for him, when crested that hill, but the night was still young and so was he, and as long as he kept his nose clean and out of trouble, there shouldn’t be a problem. Not only that, he spotted a very specific platinum blonde with scintillating hair in a yellow tracksuit, just like she said she did last night. What he didn’t know, however, was that she was going to turn this night upside down for the physical adept slash medic.

Her and her mentor, with the trouble that they could get into.

Chapter Text

Night City, 2075

He recognized her by the hair, first. Only a few people had techhair just like that. Ash white blonde, with scintillating multi-colors. If this was back home, Lucy would have set the world on fire with a brand new trend. He couldn’t imagine how much that actually cost, but even just techhair would cause a hit to his aura that, as an adept, he could ill afford.

“Fancy meeting you out here.” Lucy was soon jogging next to David. It couldn’t have been completely planned, could it? He didn’t know where she lived and she almost certainly couldn’t have guessed that he was living in Watson for the time being. On the other hand, this woman was as mysterious as the damned Moon.

“I suppose so, Lucy. Nice night for a jog. Need to start taking my training seriously, if I’m gonna help keep you and the crew alive.” They were side by side, and Lucy had set a nice pace to follow. She knew just what she was doing and had a good form. The deckers he knew back home, a lot of them tended to be sedentary when they were working, so perhaps she took up jogging to keep active. “Though, I’m curious how you found me…”

“Oh, please… it’s just happenstance. What? You think I hacked into whatever piece of tech you carry and uploaded a tracker? What do I look like? A creep? You’re what, 16?” David thought that she was suspiciously specific in her denial, but there’s no way that she could have hacked into his commlink, it was absolutely different from any piece of tech in this city. And he didn’t think she looked like a creep at all.

“Errr… I’m 17.” David said, her only reaction to that being a small pfft noise. She probably had bad experiences with high school boys. Either during or after her own schooling. “First, I don’t think you’re a creep, Lucy. And before you ask, it’s not like I’m a high school drop out or anything. I tested out!” He was proud of that, he may not have a future as an academic, but he wasn’t dumb or anything.

“Must have made your mother proud, then.” Lucy replied. He felt a pang of sadness, right in the heart. She couldn't’ have known and he wasn’t about to tell her, but … he was soon a half step behind her, as he thought about his mother. Even a few weeks after the fact, the death of his mother still affected him deeply and he wasn’t sure when he was going to be able to get over it.

“Yeah, she was proud. Happiest day of her life.” He managed to catch up, once again side by side with Lucy. “So you run around a lot? Figured a nova girl like you would have invested in some dietware or something.” She looked at him, as they stopped at a crosswalk. Even in the twilight of Night City, traffic was a 24 hour thing, someone was always going somewhere.

“Dietware? You really are raw meat, David. Dietware isn’t good, it still has to go somewhere.” She didn’t elaborate after that. “It’s more than just trying to keep slim, it helps me focus my mind, lets me eat real food.” She rolled her eyes, thinking about other netrunners she knew about that didn’t take care of their bodies, and one in particular even though she spent thousands of eddies on it..

“Take Kiwi, for example. She lives off soypaste, cigarettes, and coffee. Does it keep her skinny? Sure it does, but it makes her body too bony, especially with the body sculpting she’s had done and brags about.” She shook her head, she obviously didn’t have the highest opinion of the other decker that worked for Maine. “Serves the bitch right not having tits that fit her body, just because she’s being cheap.”

“Errr… don’t you work together?” They were waiting for the traffic light. He was surprised at Lucy’s flippant attitude towards Kiwi. He barely knew either of them, true, but from what he could tell, wasn’t Kiwi the elder of the two? She seemed to be the head decker that Maine was using and that Lucy was the backup for. He wasn’t sure if they were some master and apprentice, but there was no reason to believe that Kiwi didn’t teach Lucy anything..

“Work together? Sure. I might even be a touch grateful that she helped me in the first place.” The light turned green and they were allowed to cross as they continued their jog. There it wass, Kiwi did something for Lucy, who knows how long, and she thought she might owe the other woman. They were quiet for a while, David pondering on just what Kiwi had done for Lucy.. “Listen, Kiwi has this whole thing about not trusting anyone for any reason, so it’s extremely difficult to like her. That’s just the way she likes it, all professional, no personal.”

“I noticed that the uh… crew doesn’t seem to be… all that close. I feel like my exposure to how these things were supposed to run has been colored by too many movies, but I figured…” He trailed off, as he was getting a look from Lucy, who rolled her eyes again. David was making himself out to be the rookie he was.

“So you’re telling me that your understanding of mercenary crews is almost entirely built upon movies that you watched?” She frowned when he nodded, meekly. He was worried that she would call him out on being a little kid with big dreams, which is how he thought sometimes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a complete gonk, David?”

“Plenty.” A gonk for not having any chrome, a gonk for being a fist fighter in a world with hyper phase heater katanas and smartlinked automatic weaponry, a gonk that seemed to genuinely wanted to help people around him, a gonk that trusted too easily. He was a real idiot sometimes.

“Oh, I can tell.” Lucy replied, smirking as they came up to and crested a hill, and right there was a Caliente, its dining room warm and inviting. “C’mon, let’s get a coffee.” A coffee on a chilly city night did sound good, even if they were running. It wasn’t even that late, at that.

“Sure, that sounds good to me.” Soon, the pair were sitting at a table, waiting for their orders. David wasn’t sure what to think of the coffee in Night City. He was too used to coffee carts, sellin’ donuts and soykaff on the cheap. The coffee here didn’t have enough pep for his taste, and was missing something familiar.

“Alright, David. Let’s cut some of the bullshit, okay? What’s your angle?” Lucy finally asked, leaning in close to the young man. The curiosity for the last couple of days, when Maine said he had a new medtech to help with the crew, and when Kiwi sent her a message saying that the guy was completely chromeless. Who went around without any chrome? Not even chipsockets!

“... angle? The only angle I have is not starving to death. Maybe get a place to stay so I’m not living out of the clinic of this ripper doc I’m working for.” He sounded only a touch offended, as he leaned back. He didn’t expect an inquisitorial style interrogation during his jog, especially since Lucy was being… well, she wasn’t being friendly, but she wasn’t blowing him off completely. Not like her mentor had, who called him out last night on his naivete.

“I don’t believe you. No one can be like this. I refuse to believe that you’re 100% genuine. You’re just hiding it and this gee willikers boy next door bs isn’t cutting it!” She didn’t raise her voice, she didn’t speak loudly, she was just telling him what she thought of him. And right now, it was rather little at that. Was the world so broken and filled with so much despair that the fact that he wanted to help people when making his creds was so unbelievable?

Seemed so. It was just another difference between Night City and Coronado. You didn’t have to steel your heart in Coronado and not make friends with anyone, you wanted to work with people that respected you, and maybe even like you.

“It’s the truth, Lucy. Can’t a guy just be good? Nice?” Sure, he wasn’t that nice, but he at least wanted to be friends with the people he worked with. Or just friendly in general, he was a friendly guy. It took absolutely no energy not to be, and he managed to convince, well, some of his classmates that he wasn’t worth the effort to bully or troll, the only ones that were doing it were Katsuo Tanaka’s cronies.

It was the barest, smallest of copes that got him through the last two years of high school that he attended, but his mind was drifting, he turned back to see Lucy, her eyes were dark and hard, he could see something simmering just behind them, but… then she went cold. Her eyes were even harder, one moment she was energetic and frenetic, the next…

“Nice? Good? Friendly? This bullshit is gonna get you killed! It’s the wrong city and you’re the wrong people for it, David” She actually seemed insulted that he was just a nice, friendly guy. Her cold words stung him, just the same, biting deep into his psyche. His mother always taught him that whatever you put out into the universe, you got back ten times over.

“I like to think of myself as an optimist, Lucy. I can tell you right now, I won’t do anything that will hurt you.” That was a million nuyen promise and it was one that he hoped to fulfill, for the crew and for himself and for his mother. Or at least, that is what he kept telling himself. Just what was Lucy’s problem. “You just need to let me take care of you when you get hurt, that’s my job.”

“The world’s half empty, David. Especially this city, they call it a Free City, but it’s nothing further from the truth.” He wasn’t sure why she was telling him all of this. What was she trying to do? Convince him to not be a runner? What else was he going to do for money? And after Maine talked about how his previous decker got killed by the Reaper, they needed a Medtech.

“Lucy, why are you telling any of this to me? Is there a point to all of this?” David asked the decker, while he sipped from his own coffee, not breaking eye contact with her. Their eyes met, but even then… she eventually turned away from his gaze.

“Listen, you’re a good kid, but being an Edgerunner, a merc, whatever you want to call it… it’s not about how you live, it’s about how you die. Good kids like you? Your death isn’t going to be something that gets you called a legend or a bad ass, you’re going to wind up trusting someone you shouldn’t and it’ll get killed for it.” She was being serious, like a heart attack or a haymaker. He wasn’t sure why, they barely knew each other, but here she was, trying to look after him.

“We talk for what? Half an hour, last night, and you take it upon yourself to be the guardian angel for the new kid, because…” He leaned to Lucy, a smirk parting his face. “Why, miss Lucy… you wouldn’t happen to like me, would you?” His smirk turned into a genuine grin when he saw her blush. It was totally worth it, especially as she crossed her arms and looked away from him.

“You’re a gonk. Complete, one hundred percent gonk!” She was chuffed, but David realized that he was victorious, this time. Before he could say anything else, her eyes flashed… she was answering a holo call. Who was calling her at this hour? It was pretty late to begin with..

“What do you want, Kiwi? Can’t it wait until morning? Slow down… seriously? Are you safe? Shit, I was out for a jog. I’m at a Caliente in Watson, I ran into David. Yeah, the new guy. I’ll ask him.” She took one look at him, the holo shimmer clouding her pretty eyes. “You got your iron on you?”

“Uh… no? I’m out for a jog, why would I have my gun?” She looked at him like he was growing horns out of his neck. “... what?” Why would he carry a gun when he was out for a jog? This city was pretty horrible, but it wasn’t so bad that he should be worried about getting accosted on the street? Besides, if that happened he’d just knock their lights out..

“Because this is Night City, you always carry iron, never know what’s gonna happen in this hellhole.” She shook her head. “He says he can help. Yeah, just… take care of yourself, Kiwi.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Kiwi?” David asked. Far as he could tell, Kiwi was the head decker, meaning that Lucy deferred to her, but the way she talked about her, especially earlier, said she didn’t respect her. However, while he didn’t hear the other end of the conversation, it sounded like Kiwi was in trouble.

“Yeah, someone’s tracking her down, but she’s currently diving… meaning that we gotta be the ones to find the hound on her tail.” He tried to parse what she said, sorting it in his head. If he was correct, someone was after Kiwi, but since she was working in the Matrix, she couldn’t just track who’s after her, leaving Lucy and David to do it instead.

“... are her shoes at least locked up?” He worked with a couple deckers before… and there were all the trids he used to watch, to pick up some of the lingo they used. If they didn’t have to worry about Kiwi proper while they were going after the other decker, then it shouldn’t be too hard. Lucy looked at him, one eyebrow raised high.

“Her what? Good god, can you just talk like a normal person, David? I don’t know what NUSA shithole you come from, but wherever it is…” She pinched the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He could hear her muttering under her breath and none of it was very polite towards him.

“... err, you said she’s diving? Do we have to worry about checking up on her body?” He felt a little silly having to do that. He might have to take Rebecca on her offer to teach him the right slang so he started to fit in more and not look like such a gonk. Which was weird that some things matched up, but most didn’t.

“And you decided, with that big brain of yours, to call her body that’s currently unable to react to the greater world around her… shoes?” She thought about it, then some more, and then saw the logic. “Okay, I think I get the reason why, but to answer your question, yes. Her body is secure, but she isn’t about to fail the job she’s on and head back to her body because of another runner.”

“So let’s go catch ‘em!” David said eagerly, finishing up his coffee. “No time to lose, right?” Sadly, he was right. There was no time to get his jacket, which while most people in Night City called it a gaudy, high visibility eyesore, was decently armored by anyone’s standard, but as he moved to take off, Lucy grabbed him by the back of his hoodie.

“Hold your horses, David. We can’t just take off. I gotta go and see if I can’t track this asshole with the detes that Kiwi sent over. We can’t just go running off and hope to run into them.” David was eager, but what this needed was the calm, collected work ethic of a trained NetRunner, as she placed out a search on a few networks, melting whatever ICE she came across.

Sure, it would be easier if she had access to a runner chair, or a dive tub, but she had to make do with the wifi at the Caliente and her own cyberdeck and trust in her own, prodigious skills. Kiwi was right, she was getting hounded by some interested parties, it looked like whatever job she was on tripped a wire and the corpo runners were lookin’ for her.

“Got it. We’re looking for a Kang Tao runner group in North Side.” She finally pulled back from the net, to spot David. He was frowning. He had been to North Side a few times, and none of his travels there were any good. Not a whole lot of friendly faces there.

“That’s Maelstrom territory. You sure that the corp would have a bolt hole there?” On one hand, it’s the last place that any rivals would look, on the other hand, the Maelstrommers could discover the location and raid it for that sweet corporate tech and ‘ware. And the borgs were something else, at that.

“Of course I’m sure, you gonk. I’m the best in the biz, as you’ll soon find out.” Full of herself, much? They way her and Kiwi talked, their big deal was not trusting anyone, but they wanted him to trust them that they could do their job? The hypocrisy was palatable. But… he would follow her lead.

Getting to North Side wasn’t difficult, as the all night NCART was on offer. While slower than driving, neither of them had a vehicle and it was faster than walking. They weren’t the only ones on the train this late at night, a bunch of corpos that were burning the late night oil and were just now getting back to their homes. He watched as Lucy was smirking, leaning up against the rail in one carriage and putting a finger to her lips.

He watched as her eyes flashed, and his vision was sharp enough that he could see the corpo next to her… the slots on his neck flashed green and then… shards shot out of the slot that she quickly caught before approaching David, pushing him into the connection between the two carriages. “Neat trick, huh. Feel like helping me out, klepping a few shards while we head to North Side?”

“You really wanna risk doing some picksocketing while we make our way to help your mentor from whatever corporate kill squad is after her?” It was pretty unbelievable that she would do that, if they got caught, they’d get kicked off or worse, leaving Kiwi all on her own. He wasn’t about to disappoint on his first outing to actually help a member of the crew. This wasn’t like shooting with Rebecca, or getting his ass kicked by Dorio. This was important biz.

“... oh, fine. I just can’t help myself sometimes. When I get off the NCART, I like to have more eddies then when I got on.” She cuffed him on the shoulder. “You can be a real spoilsport, you know? Just my luck that I get stuck with the only honest man in all of Night City.” They moved into the next carriage over, in case the corpo noticed his missing shards, one of which Lucy passed to David, leaving the would-be medtech almost a thousand eurodollars richer.

“Is that how you make money between jobs?” David finally asked, breaking the silence. He was subconning for the NCPD and he did some small time gigs for the Watson fixer, but he realized that not everyone could, or frankly, would want to do something like that.

“It puts clothes on my back and food on my table. I don’t need some medtech to judge me, David.” She was scowling at him, a look that marred her pretty features. He tried to diffuse the situation, holding up his hands defensively.

“I’m not judging, honestly! It just seems like a risk to do it now, even if it is a force of habit.” That seemed to calm her down, and just in time… as they were at their stop. They exited the NCART like nothing happened and even from the station they were on, they could see the coords of the corpo runners that Lucy susses out earlier

“Lucy…” David started, turning to the woman. “Do you trust me?” He had a plan, it could work… they’d have to blitz themselves in and let Lucy do her work, while David did his, but the seventy feet they had to cross may as well have been the modern day Rubicon for it was to them. She looked at him, arching a perfectly shaped brow.

“... I trust that you probably won’t get me killed on purpose.” Even that took a few minutes for her to reply. “I trust that you don’t have bad intentions, but that’s not the same as trusting you. I’m not about to invite you back to my place or anything.” That was just something that David would have to take. He nodded to himself as he tapped his foot. He could do this, he just hoped that it didn’t shock Lucy too much, because the next thing he did was grab hold of her, bridal style!

“Hey, what the hell are you doing! Lemme go, you gonk!” She started to thrash in his arms, but that quickly stopped when David stepped on to and then off the railing of the NCART station they were on. It was only an eight meter drop, but with the way that Lucy was howling, it sounded like she just jumped out of a plane with no parachute.

He landed on a shipping container that was below with a clan, before taking of, bounding from one to the other, onto a SCSM, then the concrete jersey wall… bouncing off the roof of a Galena, a Quartz, and lastly a Thrax to end up on the other side of the road, and skipping out of some sixty feet of travel in only a few seconds.

He set Lucy onto her feet, but the track suit wearing net runner was wobbling, and put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, as she took in deep breaths. “What… what the FUCK was that?!” She had regained her bearings and she was angry, confused, a little scared, but at the same time… her whole system was flooded with adrenaline from the whole ordeal.

“... uh… parkour?” David said, sheepishly. Free running was something he taught himself, since running from badges or other unsavory individuals. It came in handy, and with his ability to empower his jumping and ability to fall safely, it only made sense. She looked at him, incredulously.

“... parkour? That’s what you call that? Parkour?” She took a few steadying breaths, calmed down a bit and centered herself. “I don’t believe you, I can’t believe you. I know what parkour is, I’ve seen BDs of parkour, that… that was something else.” Parkour didn’t let you take a eight meter drop with nary a grunt like that.

David shrugged. He had to deflect. He couldn’t just tell her that, oh by the way, I have magic. She would turn him over to a funny farm if that was the case. He had to think of a smart, suave excuse that would totally get her to believe that he was somewhat normal and not in any way from a different base universe following a different set of metaphysics.

“I’m… just… built different?” Real smooth, Martinez, she’ll totally buy that bulldrek excuse you just gave her. She was still looking at him, completely flabbergasted at the gonk shit that came out of his mouth. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to parse it. It was a completely gonk answer that didn’t actually answer her question.

“... that's it. You’re built different. No other reason?” He shook his head at her. “... okay, fine. We’re at least here. There’s a dataport on the rooftop, if I can jack in, I should be able to distract these runners enough that they’ll lose interest in Kiwi.” She was looking for a convenient way up the side of the building, a fire escape they could make use of to scramble to the top of the building. You could always trust these older buildings to have the ladders down from time and negligence.

“... ain’t it a bit odd that there’s no look outs or cameras?” David had spotted that there was none of that. If this was some kind of corporate bolt hole for spiders, then sure they would have something to spot anyone that came snoopin’ around. If not cameras, then hire someone with drugs or booze or even boring cash to keep a look out for them.

“Not really, they’re probably operating out of some sub-basement, so you’d have to know they were here in the first place. Look outs and cameras would only raise suspicions, and like you said, we’re in ‘Strom territory. They might be interested in who is setting up shop.” They circled around the building and found a fire escape. It didn’t take long to scamper up to the roof and find the broadcast unit that Lucy could jack in. “Keep an eye out, this shouldn’t take long.” She pulled a plug from her wrist, plugged in… and then…

Well, all David had to do at this point was wait. He was just on a rooftop, in enemy territory, trying to prevent a bunch of spiders from catching an… ally, he guessed. He wasn’t sure what to make of the crew, so far, but he was willing to do what he needed to have them trust him, and if Kiwi had her feet to the fire, he was going to help pull her way. Still, he got nervous as the minutes started to tick down, and he got worried that they caught Lucy after fifteen but was relieved when she finally pulled away.

“Alright, gave them a little distraction to take care of and managed to wipe any data they had on Kiwi. Lemme just holo and tell her she’s in the clear.” She barely opened her contact list when they felt the rumbling below them, as fire shot out of a manhole cover. She looked at David, who had a wide eye look on his face.

“Lucy, did you blow up their bolt hole?” It was an honest question and her honest answer was no, as she shook her head. They must have had a fail safe that went off, you can always trust the corporations to screw you over when you fail. Went off as soon as they got a signal of interference or any number of things. Corpo-rat pension, being immolated by your boss as a loose end. What a way to go. “Good news is that they won’t be bothering Kiwi any more.”

The bad news was that the building started to feel like it was listing. The abandoned flop house that the Kang Tao runners were using wasn’t designed to take an explosion happening right under it and clearing out its foundation and was showing its complete and total structural failure. They both looked at each other, as they felt the building start to fall in on itself. David took Lucy into his arms again, as he ran to the side of the building, even as the roof tipped over and leapt off the side.

He landed in the median of the road, just in time to watch the building crumble down. There was no way that no one would see that. Whether it be the regular ordinary denizen of Night City on the all night NCART or walking the street… or the Maelstrom members that were almost surely headed over to investigate.

Unfortunately for the two, it took them just a bit too long to get their bearings straight, a building had collapsed right out from under them after all, when they saw the Maelstrom gangoons pull up in their clapped out junker cars. “I don’t think they want to ask us what happened, Lucy.” David said, as he saw that each one was armed.

“No shit, sherlock…” Unfortunately, for all the shit she gave David for not carrying a gun… she too was similarly not caring any iron on her, instead pulling out a super heated coil of wire from the port on her left wrist. “Twenty gangoons, armed with guns, and here we are caught in our underwear. Think you can keep up, David?” David nodded, bringing up his hands, balling them into tight fists.

“Ten for you, ten for me, right?” The Strommers didn’t give Lucy much of a chance to say anything else, as they opened fire with a mixture of small arms. Thankfully, and this was something that David was quickly learning about these chromers, they weren’t exactly the best shots in the world. He charged the right half of the group, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucy launch herself, flipping around with a gymnasts grace, the mono-wire she carried.

It sung through the air, hitting the first Maelstrommer with an audible crack as it took his hand off right above the wrist, causing him to drop his pistol, before she brought up her heel into his chin. David on the other hand, buried one of his fists in the gut of the biggest one there, before following with a punch to the rangoon’s throat and one more to the face for good measure.

The two were fighting off the bastards and were doing a good job at it! David had slammed a punch into one of the bastard’s heads so hard that he looked backwards for a brief moment before falling over like a felled tree. Another one had enough meat on him that a textbook liver blow sent him to the ground, sprawled on the ground.

Of course, the chromers that were fighting Lucy were turning into gangoon pieces, as she took limbs from them. The green-yellow synthetic blood was soaking into the pavement and sidewalk from her surgical dismemberment of her foes. They made quick work of each of them, Lucy bringing her monowire back into her wrist, as David rubbed his knuckles. Some of them had some kind of subdermal plating and he busted open the knuckles on his right hand.

“You okay?” Lucy asked, as she checked up on him. “See you left your guys alive.” She noticed that the ones that David fought were writhing on the ground, some in intense pain from being battered around by the medtech, but some of them were gonna be unhappy once they got to the urinal at Night City lock up and were pissing synth blood. She could tell that David had a thing about going for people’s kidneys.

“I got a soft heart, what can I say?” David winced and wished he had his kit on him, but he’ll just have to suffer through it., as Lucy shook her head. David Martinez was a riddle wrapped in an enigma. People this nice didn’t exist, not in Night City… not anywhere.

“You’re really cute when you’re being a gonk, you know that? Let’s delta before the badges get here, we can go tell Kiwi that we managed to fix her Kang Tao problem.” Lucy took off walking to the south, towards Kabuki. She didn’t need to tell David twice, of course he’d follow her anywhere in the track suit she was wearing…

Getting to Kiwi’s apartment building wasn’t too much of a problem, and even after David told Lucy that the other decker didn’t want him to know where she lived, Lucy told him to not worry about it, Kiwi liked to keep her secrets, but sometimes she was a bit uptight about it. Supposedly, she ran with a few other crews over the years that ended up imploding do to people wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

“She can be a real bitch, but after getting to know her and working alongside her, you find out, instead, that she’s a complete hag.” That’s… not where he expected Lucy to go when they rode the elevator up to Kiwi’s floor, and the ash blonde used a spare key to enter the apartment. “Kiwi! You don’t have to worry about those corpo-rats trackin’ you down any more.”

“Of course I don’t.” The voice of the older decker sounded… a bit digitized to David, but it came from behind a curtain that she pushed aside. “... why’d you have to bring the rookie, Luce…” Almost immediately, catching the sight of something blue, David had turned around. It wasn’t the fact that she was missing her lower jaw… a swappable faceplate wasn’t completely out of the question in the Sixth World, it wasn’t that all! Plenty of people had a removable lower face.

“The hell’s your problem, rookie?” Kiwi didn’t sound too happy with David turning around completely, avoiding her gaze, even as she went over to the fridge and pulled out a trio of beers from it, handing one to Lucy and putting the third on the table. He managed to scoot around, keeping his back towards Kiwi and grabbed the bottle that was his.

“... my mama didn’t raise no pervert.” He cracked the top off and downed, there was no way he could deal with this completely sober. Why did they make it feel like he was the weird one when she was walking around in the nude!? He only knew two deckers, one wore a skin tight neck to toe suit for better feedback, and the other was a shaman that used trodes to link up to the Matrix. Not even in the trids was the decker ever naked.

“... she didn’t, did she?” It was weird hearing Kiwi’s voice, knowing that she didn’t have any mouth to actually speak, it was almost completely digitized. He could only imagine that she had extremely expressive eyes, missing the lower half of her face. “Sure, I could wear a suit and sit in a chair, but I spent a lot of eddies to look this good, I’m not about to hide it under no suit.”

Lucy chuckled into her beer. “He probably doesn’t want to be turned off by your skinny ass, Kiwi. Or cut himself on those boney hips.” She wasn’t helping, as the two deckers snarked at each other, being catty about their looks, and that Kiwi remembered when Lucy was flat as a plywood board and had no ass to speak of.

David wasn’t about to be a part of this, and he wasn’t going to be any more embarrassed by the two, so he finished his beer. “Listen, it’s after midnight at this point, and I want to sleep in my own bed. Kiwi, you're welcome. If you need any more help, gimme a call.” He did manage to look at Lucy, though, as he backed up to the door of the apartment, making sure not to look at the naked Kiwi.

“I had fun, Lucy. Maybe we can go jogging again, I think I’d like that very much.” And with that, he ducked out. He had a day full of gigs and jobs and opportunities tomorrow, hopefully. The pair of netrunners watched as he left, and Kiwi turned to Lucy.

“So did you manage…?” She asked her protege. The night before, Lucy had managed to slip a tracking daemon on David’s agent when he wasn’t paying attention. That wasn’t the only bit of tech he carried, but Lucy had to be closer to him if she was going to klep the data off of it.

“Took a while, but I managed. Whatever that thing is, it has some weird architecture, but I managed to get everything off of it.” She produced a shard with all the information from David’s commlink. “Why don’t we go looking and see what secrets we can find for our medtech friend.”

They had absolutely no clue about what they were going to find, and it would change everything they knew about the kid. There was no way that the information they found was real, it was too out there, too fantastic, and too insane.