Work Text:
Fuck fuck fuck fuc-
David’s internal monologue was cut off as gunfire sprayed above his head, chunks of concrete raining down as he dropped to the floor behind a large crate. The warehouse they were in was small, but still provided plenty of cover for their crew in the form of countless boxes piled high up to the ceiling. Unfortunately, it also provided cover for the dozen or so badges who had been placed here as security.
“Maine, you said this was supposed to be a quiet job!”
Another volley of bullets embed themselves into the wall and a booming laugh echoes through the warehouse as Maine shouts,
“Well then our employer misinformed us, and that means double pay!”
— 5 days ago —
The flickering electronic blue light of a hologram filled the room. Blueprints of an Arasaka distribution center blink in and out of existence before settling on one room in particular. The glowing projection focuses on a box containing some sort of wiring as various pieces of data pop in and out of existence around it. Quickly losing interest, David glanced around the room trying to determine what expression he should wear. This was a step above stealing chipware from unsuspecting corpos, but for the most part everyone else seems disinterested. Maine is stone-faced, Kiwi probably is too, but David can’t tell anything beneath the mask she always wears. Rebecca is in the corner cleaning up a shotgun as big as she is tall, while Pilar is either asleep or watching some lewd braindance, which is usually a 50/50 for him. Lucy and Dorio haven't shown up, apparently doing some minor gigs to keep everyone afloat between the bigger jobs, which instantly puts a damper on David’s mood. Pilar wakes up from what was hopefully a nap, and instantly launches into the most obscene joke David’s ever heard when a noise like radio static fills the room.
A small hunchbacked figure shuffles in, wrapped in a thick cloak covering everything but their face. The quiet hum of servos is heard as its glowing red optical implants adjust to the light level of their current hideout and a partially rusted metal skull peaks out from its hood, beginning to speak with a voice like a synthesizer:
“The item in question is fifty pounds of experimental wiring, more conductive than gold and one hell of a lot cheaper to manufacture. Right now it is in transit to Arasaka HQ from their testing labs, and if it gets there Arasaka stands to gain an incredible edge over its competitors, in addition to several billion eddies. I would like you to bring this to me, as well as destroy any evidence related to its existence. Security on this job should be minimal, Arasaka wants to keep this as discreet as possible before unveiling it.”
After a briefing that lasts way too goddamn long and which David falls partially asleep during, Maine dismisses everyone to negotiate (Intimidate) the fixer into a better payout.
— 3 days ago —
Ever since he ran out of money for the old apartment, David had been sleeping on one of the couches at the crew’s hideout. While having no rent to pay was amazing, and getting to see Lucy (and the rest of them) more often was great, the downside was the complete lack of any personal space.
Pilar had stolen his leftovers from the fridge, he accidentally walked in on Kiwi netrunning in an icebath using the only shower they had, and worst of all, Maine had crushed three different controllers for David’s gaming console. It turns out Maine suuuucks at fighting games, and happens to get very violent when he isn’t winning.
This left a whole lot of nothing to do, and since he hasn’t gotten any big gigs yet he doesn’t have enough eddies to do anything fun outside. He flops down on the couch, looking blankly at the ceiling and listening to the air conditioning hum as boredom slowly causes his brain to blue screen.
After an unspeakable amount of time in that purgatory, he notices a call coming through from Lucy.
“I just heard you're getting your very first job, choom! You’re finally on your way to becoming a real edgerunner.”
“Oh yeah? I mean, I’m already 90% of the way there, so this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Pfft, as if! You were my assistant for chippocketing, and I remember someone falling flat on their face from overusing freshly installed chrome without any immunosuppressants!”
“Well, that ended up landing me at your place, didn’t it? I got to join the crew, and you showed me the moon so, worth it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… Hey, uh, listen… Even though it was a set up, that braindance you showed me was pretty nova, and it was super fun hanging out with you, so… would you- and you can totally say no! But would you want to maybe do a do-over without the uh, backstabbing? I know this preem noodle spot on the lower side, so like if you’re open in the next few days…”
Ah fuck, you sounded like such an idiot, she’s totally going to say-
“Sure!”
“REALLY?!?” He bolts up off the couch, unsure if he just heard it right or if his comms need a driver update.
“I mean, oh, yeah, cool cool cool. Would tomorrow work for you?”
A giggle comes through the other end of the line, “I appreciate the enthusiasm hot shot, but why don’t we do it after your first big job? That way I won’t have to shell out for your bottomless stomach.”
He is totally going to nail this heist, and nothing is going to stop him from getting an actual (real this time) date with the girl of his dreams.
— now —
“David, catch!”
WHUMP
Rebecca had just tossed a large bag right at him, nearly knocking him to the ground. As he peered inside to reveal a large supply of electronics and a glowing red detonator, he heard a shout:
“Remember that idea Kiwi was tossing around after the briefing? She managed to come up with a quick prototype, why don’t we test it out!”
For a split second, a wild grin appears on David’s face before vanishing just as fast. Nabbing chips from rich asshats on a train only needed a few seconds of time, doing what he was about to try would be a colossal leap forward, and one he could only hope his body could handle. A few quick breaths in and out,
“It’s go time”, he whispered to no one in particular.
All it took was the slightest mental command for the sandevistian to power on. He felt a deep thrumming spread across his back, like the motor of a luxury car, as the device gathered enough power to bend the laws of time. The thrumming reached a peak in its intensity, and in a fraction of a second a fire spread from his spine, covering his body. His nerves burned as they took in more and more information, seconds expanding out into minutes while the world around him slowed like molasses. Even though it had been installed for a month, it still took him a moment to get over the feeling of electricity on his skin, the sudden lack of sound, the sensation of each individual molecule of air hitting his skin, the feeling of utter freedom as the world stopped.
Looking around, bullets crept towards him at a snail’s pace. He stood up, walked around their paths, hopped over the boxes and crates, and began fastening the devices in the bag to the backs of their attackers necks. Once he was on the other side of the room, an icy cold crashed back into him as the sandevistian stopped holding back the tide of time. He nearly stumbled, blood leaking out of his nose like a faucet, catching himself just in time to press the detonator and watch the fireworks.
Each of the devices burst into sparks and let out low metallic whines, mimicked by the wearers letting out loud cries of pain as the miniature EMP grenades fried any circuitry they had in their skulls. One moment they were all standing with open jaws and empty eyes as the EMPs kicked in, the next crumpling to the ground as their mandatory NCPD optical implants overloaded, briefly letting them see the entire undampened electromagnetic spectrum and giving them the worst migraines known to mankind.
“Hell yeah!”
Maine claps him on the back as he begins to lumber towards the next room.
“Slow your roll kid, we’re not done yet and I don’t want your dumb ass getting a trauma team called out for excessive blood loss.”
With his grin plastered on once more, David wipes off the slowly stopping stream of blood with a sleeve.
“C’mon, with this thing I’m un-fucking-stoppable choom!”
—
The first thing David notices is the massive body in the middle of the room, twitching like a pitbull dreaming about an unsupervised toddler. It’s covered in a truly ungodly amount of chrome, ranging from some rather eye-upsetting neon pink and green cosmetic implants to shoulder-mounted rockets, mantis blades, and what looks like a minigun attached to its left arm. The second thing is behind the body, a clearly labelled Arasaka crate with a see-through display. Within, multiple stacks of coiled wire sit neatly, which is hopefully exactly what they came here for. Finally, and only after noticing the second, a well dressed figure sat carefully on top of the crate. A midnight black suit clearly shows off his status as a high ranking corpo, one hand positioned behind his back and another holding a small switch, already held down with his thumb. Given that nothing had blown up yet, David concluded it was most likely a deadman’s switch.
“I would say good evening to you, but I think it’s fairly obvious that should things go as either one of us hope, it won’t be. I also won’t bother with introductions, since I pray to all that is holy I will never have to see filth like you again, and you shouldn’t expect to be graced with my presence again. Right now, I hold in my hands the only thing controlling our friend here. You see, this wiring isn't the only prototype Arasaka is working on. We’ve given this piece of gutter trash nearly every piece of chrome upper management will let us have, a little more on top of that, and as you might expect he’s gone cyberpsycho pretty damn quick. The only reason he’s sitting there instead of giving you several new orifices is a compliance chip, which I have hooked up to this switch. Now, you can either turn your merry little crew around and leave here alive, or make me let go of this switch and try your luck with one of Adam Smasher's sparring partners.”
In a voice low enough so only they can hear, Maine says
“I don’t like our odds against the psycho. David, do you think you can grab the dead man's switch from him before he can let go?”
“He’s about fifty feet away, assuming I go over that thing… I think I could make it… maybe.”
“Lovin’ the confidence kid”, Pilar mutters in response,
“It’s our asses if you mess this up.”
The sandevistan begins to charge, purring as the heat begins building, David calls out
“Alright choom, we’ll take the easy way out, why don’t we just relax” - The second the last words left his mouth, he felt them deaden in the air as the sound waves came to a crawl. Already warm from being used recently, the sandevistan could only handle so much. His time was limited, and he started into a dead sprint towards the bastard. As he got to the cyberpsycho, he launched off his head like a ramp, diving towards the switch. As fast as he was compared to the rest of the world, corpos always seem to get the better end of the stick, and there was definitely no exception when it came to reflex enhancing chrome. David watched as his eyes widened ever so slowly, thumb pulling away from the button that might cause their early demise in cruelly slow motion.
with one last burst of speed, he stretches as far as he possibly can, grabbing the dead man’s switch just as the man lets go. He begins to roll off to the side, pulling it out of his grip. Once more, time resumes and his elegant roll turns into a face-first slide, leaving a long smear of blood on the ground for a good foot or two.
He cranes his neck to look behind him, the human-shaped battlebot still lying on the ground, somewhat motionless. Glancing up, he notices the corpo’s sneer has only deepened.
Before David can say anything, he finds an immaculately polished shoe being slammed into his face.
“Oh please, don’t get cocky just because you have some second-rate piece of military chrome attached. Do you really think this place doesn’t have security cameras? Or that I’ve never heard of a sandevistan before? You ought to learn your place in this world, punk.”
The boot retreats from his field of view, and the man crouches down, revealing what he had been hiding behind his back: A second dead man’s switch, which releases with the soft snap of plastic on metal.
An almost inhuman scream sounds from behind, the sounds of a dozen servos revving up and guns chambering follow an instant after. Before he can try to look back, his chin is grabbed as the corpo leans in,
“If you use the same tricks over and over like a geriatric dog, you’ll get put down like one, brat.”
With a kick in the ribs for good measure, he walks away, the crate containing the wire being dragged away too.
On the ground, gasping for air, David tries to look back, help, do something, but his strength fails him. A voice is screaming over gunfire, slashing, and a full-sized flamethrower that somehow fits into that freakshow’s chest cavity.
“David! DAVID!!!”
—
David is sore. Like REALLY FUCKING SORE.
His ribs feel bruised.
Oh that's right, he got kicked in those.
There’s a horrible taste of rubber, dust, and what he thinks is some stepped on street food.
He did get stepped on, but not by an attractive woman ):
The air smells primarily of the pool of blood he finds his face pushed into, and his back feels hot as the sandevistan overheats beneath layers of fabric. His head is pounding from condensing minutes of thinking into less than a few seconds, and it seems like a miracle that he’s even conscious right now.
The last sense to come back to him is hearing, which is currently being bombarded with the constant sound of gunfire and screaming. In a herculean effort, he lifts his head to see Maine and Rebecca trading off rounds with the cyberpsycho, Kiwi huddled behind a crate with rapidly glowing eyes, hopefully attempting to fry its brains, and Pilar nowhere in sight.
Somebody must have noticed David stirring, as the piercing sound of a stock ringtone begins to complement the growing headache. A quick mental command patches Kiwi through to his auricular implants,
“David, there are several layers of firewall around his mind, I won’t be able to get in before we’re dead unless you can get the rest of the EMPs as close to his head as possible.”
“I’m not sure if-”, I can use the sandy right now… His mind finishes the sentence right after Kiwi decides to hang up.
If the previous uses of the sandy tonight are any indication of what’s to come, David does a quick prayer before pushing himself off the ground. All he’s running on right now is adrenaline, and it won't take long before this last stand ends with him and everyone else in a dumpster on the outskirts of the city. Now that the bastard isn’t lying down, he has to be a good seven and a half feet tall.
“Fuck it”
The instant he feels the sandevistan began to take effect, a warning symbol pops up in front of his eyes:
-WARNING: Militech Sandevistan MK.II overheating. Effective Output: 87%-
Better make it count.
With the bag of EMPs in his left hand and the detonator still in his right, he makes a mad dash for the back of the psycho. Sprinting across the warehouse floor, he leaps onto it, grabbing at ratty clothes and chrome to maintain a grip.
-Effective Output: 66%-
The world around starts to move a little bit faster as he’s hitting the limits of the sandevistian. He scrambles for another hold, pulling himself up this monster's back by grabbing an auto-gun cooling system, another arm grabbing a thankfully non-functioning chainsaw blade.
-Effective Output: 42%-
Out of the corner of his eye, David spots a gigantic arm begin to reach around, coming straight for him. One last burst of effort and he’s on top of a shoulder, with the arm now inches away from grabbing his head and crushing it into David smoothie.
-Effective Output: 27%-
With no time left to lose, he throws the bag over its head and slams his finger into the detonator.
Ah fuck.
-Effective Output: 0%-
While the cyberpsycho’s brain gets fried from six EMPs going off, this unfortunately does not stop the momentum of his hand. It slams into him, knocking him clean off its back and crashing into the floor.
For a brief instant, he sees the concrete floor coming up to greet him. Then, he doesn’t see anything.
—
David is sore. His ribs still hurt, but not quite so much as before. There’s no more horrible taste in his mouth, and all he can hear is the slow whirring of the fan in the hideout. Surprisingly, all of his implants still seem to work despite being near multiple EMPs, though they do feel raw.
Opening his eyes, he notices Lucy lounging on a couch opposite to him. She glances up, locking eyes with him
“Well well well, look who made it through their first job!”
A dry cough rattles through David before he can say, “Barely…”
“No duh, you took seven EMPs to the chrome and got battered by a cyberpsycho you gonk! Since you had so little chrome you got lucky, otherwise you would’ve looked like you got deep fried. We had to rush you to a ripperdoc before anything got infected and replace damn near everything you had!”
A quick self-scan revealed all of his chrome had been upgraded, with the exception of the sandy, military grade tech probably had countermeasures to that sort of thing. Just then, a notification popped up in front of his eyes:
From: Maine | Good job kid. Getting a doc to take a look on such short notice wasn’t cheap (not to mention getting rid of all kinds of spy-ware you had from buying stock implants), so I’ve docked your pay accordingly. Welcome to the crew.
Eurodollar Transfer
From: Maine
Amount: 10
Fuck. All that for 10 eddies.
“Where the hell did Pilar go? I didn’t see him during the fight.”
“He managed to catch up to that Arasaka fuck-wad, and from what I heard we won’t be seeing him again.”
“That’s good news at least…”
A silence fills the room, neither one knowing quite what to say. After a few minutes, David lifts his head and asks,
“so… that noodle place I was talking about has a special going on, only 10 eddies a bowl… wanna go?”
A warm smile spreads across her face as she replies, “After all that, that’s what you’re thinking about? Alright, but you’re buying the drinks.”
“Do they accept IOU’s for that?”