Nightcall

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/33530410.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Category: F/F, F/M
Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Relationship: Panam Palmer/V, Panam Palmer & V, Judy Alvarez/Original Female
Character(s), Lucy/David Martinez (Cyberpunk: Edgerunners)
Character: V (Cyberpunk 2077), Panam Palmer, Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk
2077), Saul Bright, Carol Emeka, Cassidy Righter, Original Characters,
The Finn (Neuromancer), Molly Millions, David Martinez (Cyberpunk:
Edgerunners), Lucy (Cyberpunk: Edgerunners)
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Long, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Established Relationship,
Canon-Typical Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, V in
London, Post-Canon Fix-It, But it will take a while, Explicit Language
Language: English
Series: Part 12 of Nightcall
Stats: Published: 2021-08-28 Updated: 2022-10-11 Chapters: 20/? Words:
87745

Nightcall
by SuddenPainter

Summary

Having left Night City in hope of finding the cure for his Relic problem, V finds himself in
a completely new city. The transition is far from painless, as the merc has to navigate the
complex layers of London and its society while looking for one person who can save him.

In the meantime, Panam is leading Aldecaldos across Arizona in the hope of settling in a
better place than Night City before she can join V across the ocean.

Will the legendary merc of Night City find what he is looking for, and how much will it
cost him?
——
As this picks up after the ending of the game, it can be read on its own, but I have changed
a lot of stuff in the canon across the previous instalments, so some elements may come in as
a surprise.
 An American Merc In London
Chapter Summary

V’s arrival is not as smooth as he expected. Panam reflects on being separated from
her husband.

Chapter Notes

Here we are again, this time starting what is promising to be a long, but hopefully
exciting journey.

I have initially intended to stay away from Arizona completely, but can’t ignore our
favourite nomad, so decided to include that as well.

Enjoy the read!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Central London

This trip was already starting off on the wrong foot. Collecting his belongings proved significantly
more troublesome than he initially expected.

The main issue was the guns. From all the armaments he had brought with him, only three were
cleared. Those were Skippy, Comrade’s Hammer and Johnny’s Malorian. Skippy somehow passed
as a ‘voice assistant device’, probably because the officer on duty did not believe anyone would be
sane enough to have a talking gun. Comrade’s Hammer could not be classified into any specific
category, so it got through as a ‘collector’s item’ after V paid a hefty import duty. The Malorian
was the easiest one - it was stashed in the secret compartment of the Quadra so was never in
question.

V made a mental note to ask for a refund, forcefully if need be, from the travel advisor who
assured him that his guns were properly declared.

All heavy weapons, including Widowmaker, Psalm and the likes got confiscated on the account of
lack of sufficient permits. So were the revolvers, due to their massive caliber ordinance. His two
katanas were also taken away on the account of being four times the allowed length for a bladed
weapon. Ironically, the spiked golden bat was totally fine.

These rules made no sense, but he had no choice but to follow.

“Thanks for nothing, Mr. Consultant,” V angrily mumbled to himself when he was told that most
of his weapons were not legal in the UK. ‘Fucking bureaucrats…’
At least this made packing everything into the car much easier. Not willing to risk losing any more
of his stuff, he left the Arch in long-term parking and opted for the Quadra Avenger. When picking
which vehicle to take with him, he had considered bringing the Caliburn, to see its ancestral home
and all that, but had settled on what the merc saw a less flashy option.

Well, that was a dumb move. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the aggressive muscle car. London
was full of sleek, european-built cars. V could already spot people staring at him as he drove out of
the station, many with disapproving looks.

‘Very subtle, V. Very fucking subtle.’ The merc scolded himself for lack of foresight. Well, at least
he had his top-priority shopping list filled out already.

——

V’s first destination was his lodging for the foreseeable future - the Napoleon Hotel. The reason
which made that particular place stand out specifically was very simple: it was a hotel with three
bars and only one room. On his initial enquiry, it was booked for a few days here and there, but
when the owner heard that the merc was willing to pay full price for a month upfront, it suddenly
became fully available.

Of course, Arasaka-owned hotels were always an option, but he planned to keep his connection to
the megacorp a secret for as long as possible, so they were out of the question.

V pulled into the side street, following the directions from the nav system. The area, marked
‘Shoreditch’ on the map, looked dilapidated at best, a ruin at worst.

‘What the fuck did you get yourself into, V?’

To his surprise, the building that housed his hotel looked much more intact than those around it. It
was one in the minority that was fully powered on all floors.

The merc followed the sign upstairs to the cocktail bar, which apparently doubled as the reception.

A pleasantly-mannered bartender greeted him with a courteous ‘hello’ as he entered. The bar was
surprisingly full of very decent-looking clientele, and not the seedy types V was expecting in such
an area.

“Welcome, sir. How can I help you?” The man behind the bar looked to be in his late 20s, clean
shaven and generally well-kept. His outfit and demeanour were better suited for an upmarket hotel
in the city centre, not a place like this.
“Hey. Name’s V. I am… uh… meant to stay here for a while?” V wasn’t sure why he felt
indecisive all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the shock of just how bad the area was, or how
inexplicably nice this place was in contrast.

“Ah, of course,” the bartender tapped a few commands on the screen behind the bar, “Vincent
Drake, great to have you with us, sir.”

V had to force himself not to wince at the mention of his full name. This kept happening in this
country - everyone at the train station insisted on using it too.

“Just V, please.” His tone came out more annoyed than he hoped for.

“Of course, sir.” The barkeep didn’t show any reaction to the request. “The room is just upstairs. If
you could transfer the deposit, the system will automatically authorise your bio-signature to gain
access to the room.”

V transferred the full 4 weeks-worth of charges. He knew the price tag, but it still felt a little steep,
given the location. He told himself that the place looked very well-maintained and the ambience
was great, so there wasn’t much to complain about.

Not that he was unused to or afraid of seedy neighbourhoods. Night City had those in droves.

‘Don’t judge the book by the library, V.’

“Great, thank you.” V figured that he was going to see this guy quite frequently, so decided on
adopting a friendlier approach. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Henry, at your service.” The bartender had clearly appreciated the more personal approach.

“Nice to meet you, Henry. When does the bar close?”

“Technically, midnight,” the other man had clearly appreciated the question, “but I stick around
later so if you want a drink made, just let me know.”
“Fan-tastic.” V nodded contently. “One last question - is it safe to leave the car out?”

“Oh, absolutely not, sir.” Henry allowed himself an amused smirk. “You now also have access to
the garage, it’s just further down the street.”

“Great, thanks Henry!”

It took him ten-ish minutes to park the car and drop off what he needed back at the room, which
was surprisingly spacious. There was a mini-kitchen and an actual dining table; the bathroom had a
full-size bath as well. This was miles better than V’s apartment back in NC.

A shower and a change of clothes later, the merc was back down at the bar, chatting with Henry,
who turned out to be a fountain of knowledge about the city. In a short while, V learned about the
general layout of the city with its rich and poor boroughs, and the gangs that operated across them.
The solo got a crash-course into the extremely hierarchical class system, where being born into the
right family could determine your entire life, both for the better and worse.

“You are a freelancer, aren’t you?” Henry finally asked a question of his own.

“A who?” V had never been referred to in that way, and never heard of anybody else either.

“Gun for hire kind. Apologies if I misjudged,” the bartender raised one open palm in apology.

“Oh, yeah. For sure, that I am,” the merc laughed, “in Night City, where I am from, they usually
call us mercs or solos.”

“Yes, of course. Makes sense.”

“Why do you ask?” V raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“You just look the type,” Henry shrugged, suggesting there was no ulterior motive to the question,
“I usually ask ‘what do you do?’ but it felt pretty obvious with you, so I ventured a guess.”
“Fair,” V shrugged back. He knew he looked like one, there was no reason to get offended at a
correct assumption. “Anything in particular that gave me away?”

“Only a freelancer rents a room for a month outright in one of the worst areas of London without
knowing anything about the city…” Henry paused for a moment considering if he should say what
he had on his mind, “that and you drive the flashiest car I’ve seen in a very long time. American?”

“Car and me both,” the merc nodded, “area that bad, huh?”

“This side isn’t too bad , but a bit more east from here is the stabby centrale. I wouldn’t show up
with your ride over there if I were you.”

“Why is this still here, then?” V was genuinely interested and a bit perplexed why, and how, such a
decent-looking establishment remained in such an unsavoury area.

“We’ve been here for over fifty years. From what I’ve heard, this used to be an up-and-coming
area, but then the civil war steamrolled everything and it got plunged back into shit.” He
courteously covered his mouth with his hand. “Pardon my French.”

‘Regardless of location,” the bartender added, gesturing towards the many guests sitting in the bar,
“the clients still keep coming.”

V had to turn around, very unsubtly, to eye the other patrons of the bar. ‘Seedy’ was certainly not
the way to describe them. They looked like your everyday people, corpos most likely. Except in
Night City, all corpos seemed obsessed with Neomilitarism style - blacked-out suits, bodycon
dresses, slicked-back hair, all that. Here, it was more about pastel colours, loose trousers and
checkered patterns. These people would look odd to him if they didn’t all look alike. If anything, it
was him who was the odd one out here, with his leather jacket and skinny jeans.

‘Dammit, will I have to buy new clothes too? How different can a city get, for fuck’s sake?’

“Who are these people anyway?”

“Artists, musicians, BD editors - creative types.” Henry leant in a bit and lowered his voice. “They
are always attracted to broken places.”

V realised that he’d spent a good half-hour talking to the bartender without ordering as much as a
soda. That was borderline rude at that point. He eyed the card that listed the signature cocktails,
immediately spotting what he wanted.

“Can I have a Martini, please?”

“Great choice,” Henry smiled in approval, “gin or vodka?”

‘Well, fucking hell, Gibson never asked me that back at Straylight…’

“What would you recommend?”

“Personally, I love a Vesper.” Tracing a hint of confusion on the merc’s face, the bartender
clarified, “that’s mostly gin with a hint of vodka. Best of both worlds, I say.”

“Sold!”

“Fantastic, coming right up.”

Unlike Straylight, there was a time delay between ordering and getting a drink because a human
had to do it. V absolutely did not mind. He had the front seat to see the master at work - pouring,
shaking and straining the drink in perfect motions that could only come from years of experience.

“Holy fuck, that is good!” V couldn’t contain his appreciation for the drink. He still had a key
question to ask this knowledgeable guy, though. “So, Henry. What else can you tell me about
London?”

“Hmm,” the other man paused for a second, “it really depends on what you are looking for.”

“Well, for starters, I am looking for the Finn.”

Henry was visibly taken aback by V’s words. His eyes narrowed as he watched the merc closely.
“You aren’t just some freelancer, are you?”
“What makes you say that?”

“Most don’t even know who, or rather what the Finn is. And here you are, just arrived and already
asking after him.”

V couldn’t really claim he knew who the Finn was. All info he had was that the mysterious and
hard to find character was an info broker, and a damn good one at that.

“Can you help though?” The merc pressed further.

“As it happens, yes I can.” The bartender’s mouth curled down in a knowing frown. V expected
him to elaborate further, but the other man stayed quiet. An odd silence hung above the bar.

“Do you need a… compensation for this kind of info?” V ventured carefully.

‘Oh no, no no no,” Henry waved his request off with an awkward chuckle, “nothing like that. It’s
just… the Finn rarely welcomes people he doesn’t know.”

“I am sure I can make him warm up to me.” The merc leant back in the bar stool with a self-
confident smirk.

“You don’t quite understand,” the other man’s smile faded quickly, “unannounced guests do not
exactly… survive.”

“Oh.” V’s own grin was wiped off too. “Well, I am up for trying. Really, really need to have a chat
with this guy. Who do I need to talk to to get to him?”

“I am still not sure it’s a good idea,” Henry insisted.

“Hey, I already paid for the full stay. If I get zeroed, my car keys are in the top drawer - you can
have it as compensation for your troubles.”

“Fine,” the bartender nodded. His eyes flashed blue as he initiated a data exchange request with V’s
own cyberdeck. “This is the address I have that should supposedly lead you to the Finn.”

V quickly double-checked the location to find it was all the way across London before standing up
to leave.

“Thanks Henry, you were beyond helpful.” The merc transferred 2000 eddies to the bartender as a
tip before bidding his goodbye. ‘At least the bloody currency is the same’

Landing in the soft bed, the completely exhausted man decided to send Panam a quick voice
message to update on his status. Before sleep enveloped him completely, V made a mental note to
find out where he could get more guns in the morning.

After getting a crash course on the city, he had a feeling he would need to be well-equipped.

——

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Arizona desert

“What are you grinning at?” Mitch tilted his head with an inquisitive impression, studying Panam’s
face.

They had just finished unloading the trucks, which was grueling and exhausting work. Little reason
for joy could have come from that, so he was naturally curious.

“Got an update from V.” At her response, her friend’s expression changed immediately to that of
complete understanding. It was a well-known fact to just about anyone how even a mention of her
partner could cheer the Aldecaldo chieftess up no matter her original mood.

“How’s our globe-trotting merc doing?”

“Well… as I told him, it turned out taking a chrome muscle car wasn’t the best of ideas to stay on
the down-low.” She chuckled at the mental image of V sitting in his flashy car, stared at by
everybody, having that hilarious ‘I regret everything’ face he always pulled when he realised he
fucked up.

“At least he didn’t take one of his hypercars,” Mitch offered with a laugh.
“Says he is planning to buy a more sensible car tomorrow.”

“What would be his definition of sensible then?” The mechanic raised an eyebrow. It was clearly a
trick question - everyone also knew the merc wasn’t one for subtle vehicles. Even the MaiMai he
owned for no explicable reason was coloured bright red, like some sort of giant bowling ball.

“Most likely, it’s going to be whatever the European version of the Quadra they have over there.
Bonus points if it’s in a crazy colour.”

“Fifty eddies say it’s gonna be red,” the Aldecaldo offered with a challenging tone.

“Nah, gonna be orange. And make it hundred.” Panam offered her friend a hand, which he took to
seal the deal.

They started walking towards the bar truck, called by the unseen force of chilled Brosephs.

“We veered off-subject there,” Mitch broke the pause in their discussion of V’s escapades, “did he
say anything else?”

The question only made Panam sigh loudly. The rest of the news wasn't exactly great, but not so
bad that she had to worry. She had to admit it was quite amusing too, but she kept that to herself.

“Most of his guns got confiscated at customs. I bet V had already listed out all the things he is
going to do to that snarky NYC consultant that did his paperwork.”

“That ain’t good.” Mitch shook his head as he offered her a bottle that he’d just cracked open.

“Well, he still has the talker and the Malorian, he’ll be fine for now.”

“Good thing he is minted then, eh?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Panam took a healthy swig from the bottle, “I am more surprised he didn’t
get arrested for kicking up a fuss. You know how precious he is about his weapons.”
“Aw, c’mon Pan. That’s more of your line of work.” Her friend gave her a shameless wink,
knowing full well how provocative his remark was.

“Screeww youu, Mitch.” Panam flipped a half-assed bird at the smug veteran, but didn’t object. He
simply smirked, grabbed a six-pack of beers and waved her goodbye, leaving the exhausted
woman to her own thoughts.

From her elevated position at the bar stool, the Aldecaldo chieftess looked over the temporary
camp that the clan had set up for the night. One side of it came against a steep rock formation,
creating a natural defence barrier from one side - Saul’s idea. Stubborn and all-too-happy to play it
safe, the older leader knew his way around strategy and good positioning.

Their progress was slower than expected. By her initial estimations, they would have passed
Phoenix by now, but instead the convoy was still to reach the city’s outskirts. There, ‘Caldos
would have to set up a more long-term camp for a few days to restock and figure out why there
were so many damn Raffens all over Arizona. The vile pricks were the main reason for their
slower pace.

Panam had already asked Dakota to scout out work for them in the area. They were doing well so
far, and even still had some of the ‘Saka gear to shift as well, but she had to be mindful of their
finances in the long term. Tucson was a busy city in general, and even more so in terms of nomad
activity. There was strong competition for contract work and Aldecaldos were away for far too
long to be able to lay claim on any lucrative contracts from the get go.

‘Ah fuck, will I need to schmooze with the corpos and other clans now?’ Panam shuddered, hoping
Saul would volunteer to do all that. She didn’t necessarily dislike other clans, save for some very
specific exceptions, but dealing with them was all politics and you had to be patient for that, and
sometimes had to bite your tongue, no matter how wrong the other party was. Panam wasn’t
exactly great at either of these things.

Perhaps this was why she didn’t make a very good mercenary either - it had very similar
requirements. You had to really mind what you said and how you said it around both fixers and
clients, and she was certainly not doing that enough. In hindsight, the tone she adopted with Rogue
on more than one occasion could be considered suicidal if the queen fixer chose to take offence. It
was most likely a mix of Rogue not taking the nomad seriously and V’s intervention that saved her
from being shot for how she chewed the older woman out after the shootout at Nash’s compound.

V - now that guy was good at the whole playing it cool and talking his way around people
business. Panam vividly remembered how smoothly he handled Wakako back when they were
trying to get Tyger Claws to leave Clouds alone. Or even how he handled conversation with Rogue
when they suspected she may have played part in the assasination attempt on the merc… Hell, the
guy could smooth-talk Panam into just about anything if he tried hard enough. Not that he was
fully aware of that power of his, and probably wouldn’t use it often even if he was.

Panam’s thoughts drifted towards thinking about her far away lover again. Oh, how she missed his
smoky, slightly husky voice that she got so used to hearing every day. Now, she had to make do
with the daily voice messages that, thankfully, the merc had committed to send her.

A cheeky thought then occurred to her - she could sneak somewhere private and re-listen to his
latest message. That would certainly cheer her up. It also helped that the content of the message
was kinda hilarious, even if it did spell more difficulties for V. Losing most of his weapons… She
imagined the solo’s face when he first found out. Must’ve looked like a baby with his toys taken
away. Panam chuckled at the mental image.

‘Damn… why do you have to be so far away right now, you gonk!’

Panam braved it through their goodbyes, despite a constant nagging desire to cry her eyes out. She
just pushed the emotions deep down at the time, stoically keeping up the appearance of a ‘strong
chieftess’ in front of the other ‘Caldos. But once V was gone, she felt a distinctive gap in her life
that was bigger and more noticeable than the nomad could ever expect.

It was not the case that she couldn’t function without V, not at all. She just didn’t enjoy herself as
much when he wasn’t there. Even the most mundane tasks like helping around the camp or
washing the Warhorse were just that bit more fun when her partner was around. A sly joke here, a
cheeky splash from the hose there… Now, she was back to just pushing through the errands.
Sleeping alone again absolutely sucked, too.

The other nomads had certainly noticed the change, she could tell. They weren’t exactly subtle
about it either - even Saul started to ask Panam on how she was doing on an almost daily basis. The
Aldecaldo chieftain’s emotional range ended at that question though, because he was clearly lost
for words every time she actually responded with something that was more complex than ‘alright’
or ‘fine, thanks’.

Mitch, on the other hand, was an absolute treasure. He kept stealing her away from boring
leadership jobs to do ‘very important’ technical jobs with him, which would still fall under what
she was meant to help with so flew under Saul’s radar. Most of the time, these were actual jobs,
like setting up the perimeter beacons or doing a sweep in the Basilisk. Majority of the errands
could certainly be done by one person, but were far more enjoyable when the two of them could
shoot the shit throughout. Once, the “critical Basilisk cargo hold repair”, as Mitch pitched it, turned
out to be just the two of them sitting in said cargo hold, popping cold ones and trading stories away
from everybody else. She cherished those moments with her best friend and was grateful to no end
for him to look out for her in that way.

‘Damn, I need to get us settled in Tucson and go see V.’ Panam pulled herself from the momentary
episode of deep inner retrospection, back into the present moment. Her feelings about the
separation weren’t the only ones giving her grief. She genuinely worried for her lover, being all on
his own out there. He might have been crowned a Night City legend, but even then the merc had
barely spent a day in that city without at least someone watching his back if the need arose. First,
he had Jackie, Vic, Misty and Mama Welles, all of whom played their important parts in as much
as saving the man’s life in one way or the other. Then Panam herself, Judy, Bakkers and many
others came into the picture. It was true that in most cases V was the one saving their collective
butts, but if anything was to happen to him, they were always there to help as much as they could.

Panam recalled the first time the merc had collapsed in front of her due to a particularly nasty Relic
malfunction, just as the nomads were prepping to move camp. She had him placed in the most
stable truck and got their ripperdoc watch him for the entire length of the trip to the new location.
When they arrived, still passed out V got his own tent and she didn’t leave his side until he woke
up.
 There was no one to do that if he glitched out now. Not even Johnny was there anymore to take the
wheel if it came to it.

“Fuck, what have I done, letting him go on his own like that,” Panam mumbled to herself.

She spied the Warhorse from the corner of her eye. If she drove on her own, she could make it to
Tucson by the morning. From there, a trip to NYC would take only a few hours on a cargo AV.
She could be in London in two days, give or take.

But then the Aldecaldo looked over her people, still busy finishing setting up their temporary
lodgings around the camp. All of these people relied on her leadership. Having Saul wasn’t an
excuse to leave either - the position she had accepted came with commitment and expectations that
she couldn’t bring herself to break, no matter where V was. No, her lover would have to manage
without her for a bit longer.

Right on cue, Roger, one of the nomad kids, ran up to the truck. He had to crane his neck to
address her from the ground. “Auntie Pan, uncle Saul is looking for you. He is in his trailer.”

Chapter End Notes

It’s actually really fun to work with real places for once! I will be pulling some
characters from Gibson’s Sprawl trilogy (Neuromancer, etc.) as that work is one of
genre-defining ones and I really like some of the characters there. As usual, some
cameos from all over the place will make appearances as well.

I am working on improving the quality of my writing, so going through some courses

and so on. So hopefully you will see improvements as we go. Please do let me know if
you have any feedback, as that is a great way for me to learn as well.

Thanks for reading!

 Steppin’ Razor
Chapter Summary

Struggling to get anywhere without connections or rep, V gets unexpected help from a
mysterious woman who he knows only as Molly.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

V woke up not recognising where he was. He immediately reached for the gun that he kept on the
bedside table. After scanning the room, he finally realised where he was.

Putting the gun back in its place, the merc checked the time. Five A.M. He was still completely jet-
lagged so more sleep was off the books.

“Guess it’s time to get up,” V sighed.

He took his time in the shower, letting the hot water wash at least some of the tiredness off. Except
even that got ruined when another coughing fit took over him. He watched as a particularly nasty
blood clot swirled around before going down the drain.

After getting dressed and stabbing himself with the steroid dose that was meant to delay the
deterioration of his health, he read the update from Panam. The nomads were held behind, so
Panam would arrive at least a few days later. The news wasn't great, but V was just glad that they
were safe.

To occupy himself, the merc cleaned the meek gun collection he was left with. After all three
handguns were sparkling-clean, V ran out of things to do so finally decided to get out and grab
some breakfast. He holstered the Malorian on the inside of the leather jacket and grabbed a few
extra bullet cartridges for good measure.

V found Henry having breakfast at one of the tables in the bar. At six in the morning the room was
predictably empty.

“Morning, V! Yours is in the heated drawer.” The bartender gestured from his table towards a
kitchenette tucked in the back wall.

“Thanks,” V took out a deliciously smelling plate of assorted food items, like some sort of
breakfast all-stars. There were the scrambled eggs, hash browns, grilled tomatoes, sausages and…
beans?

“Can I join you?” The merc sat down when the other man nodded in agreement.
“You still want to see the Finn?” Henry eyed the merc as V stuffed his mouth with food.

“Yep, gotta do it,” the solo nodded. “But first - some shopping. Would you by any chance know
where one can get some guns?”

——

According to Henry, Borough Market used to be a hotspot for food and produce some time ago.
You could still see some of the names of restaurants and stalls painted or engraved into the metal
above the doors. All of that was gone now, save for a few hot dog trucks and candied peanuts
stands - who even ate those? - that smelled great but looked too dodgy to truly consider.

What replaced all of the gastronomy establishments were the blacked out windows with bouncers
standing in front of steel-reinforced doors.

Each ‘shop’ was marked with a company name that in each instance was comically low-effort in
terms of concealing that it was fake.

‘National Fruit Import Association’

‘Shelby Important & Export Incorporated’

V even spotted ‘Night City Culture Restoration Society’. That had to be his first place to check out,
just for the irony alone.

He came up to the bouncer and asked nonchalantly, “hey there, I would like to shop in your fine
establishment.”

“This is not a store, but an office for NC Culture Restoration Society. Do you have an
appointment?”

“I do not.”

“I am sorry, I can’t help you, sir.”

‘Fine, let’s try some other place then.’ Frustrated, but undeterred merc set off to talk to every door-
fronting suit around the place.

To his surprise, no matter the obviousness of the names, each doorman insisted on keeping up the
charade. He couldn’t get into any of them.

Finding himself back in front of the original guy, V decided to give it another try.
“Hey, it’s me again. I don’t have an appointment, but I am sure I can make it worth your time.” He
adopted the smoothest tone he could muster, hoping that could help him get in. “You see, I am a
Night City resident myself, so I am, of course, very interested in cultural preservation,” he glanced
at the silver plaque to double check the full name, “restoration, I mean.”

On second thought, guns were very much part of NC culture, but the city hardly needed that side of
it restored. Guns and everything around them was very much alive and well, even thriving, one
could say.

“As I said earlier, you can’t come in without an appointment.”

V started to miss the widely available gun shops of Night City.

“C’mon, man. How much do you want to just let me… slip by?”

“Sir, I will have to eject you from the area if you continue.” The bouncer was not having any of it.

‘For fucks sake…’ V was about to give up when a cheerful voice from the back made him pause.

“Chill out, Rick, the pretty boy is with me.”

A good looking, raven-haired woman with mirrored lenses covering her eyes casually patted V on
the back like they were friends for years. The stranger sported a leather jacket and tactical trousers
tucked into high combat boots. She carried the merc look very well, which gave V encouragement
that his own style was still passable in this city.

“Hey, Molly. How are things?”

“Eh, same old, same old, you know.” She clearly wasn’t interested in the chit-chat with the
bouncer.

The man clearly got the message - he simply nodded and let them in. Behind the first door was a
small lobby with another set of doors that made sure nobody would be able to see what was
actually inside. ‘Molly’ led them through the second entrance in a familiar manner - she clearly
knew her way around. What lied beyond was what V would consider a gun nut’s paradise.

His unexpected companion openly laughed at his awe. “I know an appreciator of fine iron when I
see one. What’s your name, big guy?”
“Just call me V.”

“V, huh. Mysterious.” She held her hands up and wiggled her fingers in a mock-spooky fashion.
“You new in town?”

“How did you guess?” V faked shock. He was very aware of how out-of-place he looked because
that was how he felt. “Arrived yesterday.”

“And your first order of business is to buy guns?” Molly raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

A shrug was V’s answer. He had no intention to tell his life story to a woman who was practically a
stranger.

Suddenly, Molly’s face suddenly changed to that of amused realisation, her mouth agape. “You got
your iron confiscated, didn’t you?!”

V did not expect this conversation to go there at all. He was completely taken aback so his reaction
must have betrayed him.

“You totally did,” the woman pointed at him, laughing her heart out. She gave him a consolation
pat on the shoulder. “You ain’t the first one, and not the last. Don’t worry about it.”

V wasn’t sure if he liked this woman having so much fun at his expense, but indulged her
amusement.

“Well, I am glad I could help you out.” Molly awarded him with a reassuring smile. “As you may
have noticed, London is a bit more stingy so everyone needs to at least pretend to be on the down
low. I heard you are from Night City? The city where you can buy a gun in a vending machine.”
She chuckled at what might have been a memory of her own from the City of Dreams.

‘How long was she standing behind me for exactly?’ He tried to recall when he told the bouncer
about Night City. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“What brings you all the way over here?” She asked, absentmindedly looking over rows and rows
of weaponry. From handguns, to LMGs, to rocket launchers - the place had everything.
“Business.” The merc answered plainly.

“Everyone’s here on business,” Molly chuckled, “but I get it. You don’t know me, no reason to
share. Let’s talk about guns then. What do you have on you now?”

“What makes you think I have any at all?” V played dumb, curious to see her reaction.

“Aw, c’mon. Unless you were truly inept, you would take precautions.”

“Got me there,” the merc shrugged and pulled out the Malorian, offering it for her to see.

“Ooooh, would you look at that!” Molly held the weapon up and twisted around to have a good
look. “Rotary reload mechanism… Side-load cartridge… Titanium body… “ She furrowed her
brows, looking back at the merc. “How the hell did you come to own Silverhand’s hand cannon?”

“It’s Silverhand’s pistol?!” V faked shock, somewhat convincingly. “I never knew.”

“Smartass,” the woman gave him a bump on the shoulder, “I can see how you look at all of these
toys. Everyone who knows anything about guns would recognise this instantly.”

“Fine, fine. You got me.” V awkwardly scratched the back of his head, “got it from one of the
henchmen during an Arasaka raid.” It wasn’t even a lie, but a gross simplification that made it
sound like one.

“I am jealous. It’s a fine weapon. Surprised you have a need for any others.” Molly carefully
handed the gun back over. “I would just blow people to pieces with this.”

“For more… complicated encounters. This thing is great but six rounds is not always optimal.” V
explained with rehearsed ease.

“Fair,” she happily accepted his answer. “Well, go to town, cowboy.”

And to town V went. An SMG, a full-auto rifle, a heavy revolver that could also be used as a club
and a telescopic katana made out of nano-folded carbon-rich steel that collapsed into the handle to
conceal the blade were all now getting boxed for delivery back to the merc’s hotel. That and an
obscene amount of ammo - he didn’t want to run out halfway.

“Holy shit, dude. Are you taking on the government, or what?” Molly whistled as she watched the
assistant pack the last of the weaponry up.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” V smirked. He realised that he had learnt nothing about this
surprise encounter of his, while she had managed to scope out quite a bit about him. “Why are you
here yourself, actually?”

“Need to get my nails done.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t get an answer, the mysterious woman simply walked forth, making a quick left turn
before stepping through a small door into a dimly-lit room. The merc had no choice but to follow.

“Sally! Long time no see!” An old woman looked up from her workbench.

Molly gave the merc a ‘don’t ask’ look before returning the greeting to the other woman. “Shibo!
I’m in town, wanted to visit my favourite laser technician!.”

“Who is your friend?”

“Just a tourist, I am showing him around the place.” Molly waved at V dismissively. He was happy
to not be talked about.

“Always the helpful girl you are, sit down. Let’s get you sorted.”

V didn’t have time to ask the obvious question before Molly fanned her fingers, with each red-
painted nail now tipped with a 2-centimeter double-edged scalpel.

‘She is a razorgirl!’ So much about her demeanour and knowledge of the underworld made sense
now.

The two of them chatted nonsense about the weather and alike as the older woman worked, using a
string-thick laser beam to carefully polish off the sharp blades to a mirror finish. The merc just
hanged back, melding with the furniture and observing the pair. This was clearly a normal
occurrence, so he didn’t think much about it.
Instead, he used his time to watch his new acquaintance. She had to take off her jacket for the
procedure, revealing bare arms as what he assumed was a t-shirt turned out to be a tank top. Her
hands and shoulders bore clear signs of extensive modifications, not unlike those that Arasaka
samurais or cyber ninjas would undergo. He had no doubt that she was a formidable fighter and
was somewhat curious about seeing her in action.

Once the treatment was complete, the blades retracted silently, as if they were never there at all. V
had no trouble believing they could cut through metal at that point.

“Impressive piece of kit you got there.” V nodded at her hands as Molly stood up to leave.
“Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, that’s for sure.”

“Thanks, worked hard to score it,” the razorgirl nodded, “and you wouldn’t want that even if I had
gel nails.” She gave the merc a playful wink. “So, what now, cowboy?”

“Now I need to get a less flashy car.”

“Really? How bad can it be?” Molly chuckled, clearly underestimating the issue V was facing.

——

“Gdamn…” Molly whistled, eyeing the Quadra. “Man, what were you thinking?”

“I know, I know.” V rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“It’s so… polished too! I can see my own reflection clearly.” She leant in to study her own image
on the vehicle. “Was your other option a Rayfield or something?”

“Funny you say that…”

“Ok, c’mon. You clearly need help improving your taste. I know a guy who pushes some good
wheels.”

V was about to agree, but stopped himself for a moment. Something wasn’t adding up here. “Why
are you helping me, exactly?”

“I don’t know, maybe you kinda remind me of someone.” Molly brushed his question off. “Two
people, actually. I guess I have a type… Plus, I am between gigs at the moment. You can pay me
back with an obnoxiously expensive dinner.”

“I bet you know where to go for that, too.”

“Of course.” The merc was treated to one of the smuggest smirks followed by a wink.

“Molly… I, uh…” he held a hand up, showing her the ring.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, cowboy.” His admission did nothing to spoil her spirits, or
deter her flirting. “Saw that all the way back outside the gun shop. I am not that kind of girl.”

They got into V’s car and were about to pull out of the blind alley he had parked in when another
car suddenly drove behind them and blocked off the exit. Three guys, their faces covered by
bandanas, quickly jumped out of the vehicle and approached the Quadra from both sides.
Brandishing some cheap-looking handguns, they signalled the pair inside to lower the windows.

V and Molly shared a look and a barely perceptive nod. They both complied with the demand and
buzzed the windows down.

“Nice wheels you got here, man. Shame they are ours now.” The goon on the driver’s side bent
over to look at the two passengers properly.

“Listen, guys. I don’t want any trouble. How ‘bout you just get back into your… whatever that is
and we pretend this never happened?” V may have wanted a new set of wheels, but he wasn’t
about to donate the current ones to a bunch of gangoons.

“Are ye deaf, or summin’? Outta tha ca’, you wanker!” A ganger with shaved head put his hand on
the windowsill on Molly’s side.

That was a big, big mistake. With a lightning-fast movement, the razorgirl sliced up with her
scalpel-tipped fingers, making the would-be-carjacker part ways with a half of his hand that was
inside the vehicle.

Shocked and screaming in pain, the man stumbled backwards, gushing blood all over the car,
pavement and himself. Using the confusion, V forcefully opened his door, slamming it into the guy
on his side. Before the ganger could even take aim, the experienced solo was already upon him.
Disgruntled merc grabbed the hand that held the pistol and twisted it in an unnatural direction until
the other man let go of the weapon. The pistol clanked as it hit the pavement. With his free hand,
V landed a few gut punches on his target to make sure the guy stayed down for good.

Satisfied with the result, the merc swiftly pulled his own pistol and aimed it at the last man
standing. The third guy who initially hanged back was now nervously pointing his gun first at V,
then at Molly, both of whom had their weapons trained on him at that point.

“Okay, kid. Play’s over.” V rubbed his temple, he was getting a headache from all of this jet-
lagged action. It was the middle of the second day in London and he was already getting close and
personal with some gangsters. “Just fuck off wherever you came from and let us pass.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. The ganger drove off leaving his two friends - one bleeding out, the
other rolling on the floor in a foetal position.

Molly approached the wounded man, who by that point dropped to the ground. At the sight of her
closing in, he, clenching his bleeding hand, peddled backwards, begging for his life. Without a
word, she extracted just one of her nails to cut off a piece of his jacket sleeve. The blade went
through thick cloth like it was air. Still not speaking, the razorgirl wiped the bloody side of the car
and some of the interior using the freshly made rug and tossed it to the sidewalk, along with the
four cut-off fingers still attached at the knuckles. Then she simply got into the slightly less bloody
car. V took that as a cue for them to leave and climbed back in himself.

“Sorry about the interior,” Molly offered simply.

“It’s alright, this car’s seen blood before. Both mine and not.”

The merc finally pulled out of the alley and set course to the co-ords that Molly had punched into
the nav just before they were interrupted.

“Who are these guys?” V asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

“What, you didn’t like the little welcome party?” It appeared that the woman’s wit was coming
back to her now. “Those were Liberalists, just a bunch of racist douchebags. They are sizeable in
numbers though, assholes aplenty to recruit I guess. I would stay clear if I were you, but just
because dealing with them in any way is just guaranteed to spoil any good mood you have.”
“Doesn’t ‘liberal’ usually imply-” V started to ask the obvious question but was cut off by his
passenger.

“Don’t even go there, man.”

“Fine. Let’s see about that car now then, shall we?”

——

V was ecstatic to walk around all the new cars that never made it to North America due to all the
crazy import duties. Night City didn’t produce enough of demand for the cars to be imported
directly, so the free city had to rely on NUSA and their routes. This was the reason why the vast
majority of cars you could find in NC were made in NUSA or Japan, the latter being the result of
Arasaka’s extensive trade connections.

A bright red number with a prancing horse emblem above the front wheel called out to V
immediately. It was a simply gorgeous machine that just begged to be thrown around tight corners
at eye-watering speeds.

“Ahem,” Molly cleared her throat loudly, “I thought you wanted something subtle?”

“Yeah, you got a point there. How about that one?” V pointed at a racing-green coupe with a
pouncing cat on the boot. He could certainly see himself racing that down London streets.

“Nah. Keep going, cowboy.”

V accepted the challenge, trying to find something he liked that would at least try to stay low-key.

And then he saw it.

A matte, gunmetal-grey beauty that looked both very familiar and utterly new at the same time.

“Ah, the nine-eleven. Understated power in its purest form.” The proprietor who Molly referred to
only as JD appeared out of nowhere. “This one is the seventy-six model year. Only one owner and
he barely drove it. Nine hundred horsepower, four wheel steering, drift mode. You got the full
package in this one.”
“I’ll take it,” V grinned at the prospect of owning two vehicles produced almost a century apart,
but still retaining all the distinct elements that gave it so much character. He decided not to ask any
questions on the circumstances of the previous owner parting with the car. If it was anything
similar to Night City, nine out of ten times you didn’t want to know.

“Love me an assertive customer!” JD grinned, clearly content with an easy sale, “we also offer a
range of credit lines-“

“Nah,” the merc cut him off, “I’ll pay in full now.”

“Umm… Sure, why not.” The salesman bowed out and went somewhere, presumably to fill in the
paperwork.

“You like being a baller, don’t you V?” Molly’s tone implied that she had already made up her
mind on the answer to that question.

“I just really like good cars,” the merc shrugged, “plus, I have this one’s older sister back in NC.”

“Hell, why didn’t you take that one with you?” That was a very fair question, which had a very
simple answer.

“Because I am a gonk, that’s why,” V admitted with a smirk.

“A what?”

“Oh, right. NC slang. An idiot.”

“‘Gonk’,” Molly repeated slowly. “What a dumb sounding word.”

“And that’s why it works so well,” V laughed.

“You West Coast types are weird.” The razorgirl furrowed her nose at the man.

“You must be East then, huh?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t been around in ages. I travel a lot.”

“I can tell that.” V was finally learning something, anything about this mysterious woman who
somehow wound up helping the newcomer to navigate this strange city. “What brings you to
London?”

“The gigs paid good money, and I’ve worked here plenty of times. How about yourself?”

“I thought I already told you.”

“Business is a dumb answer.” Molly waved him off before making a pleading face. She might have
been pulling a mocking puppy eyes look at him, but he wouldn’t be able to tell on the account of
her lenses.

“C’mon V, we survived a carjacking together, you can tell me.”

He considered for a second. She did come through on multiple occasions now, from getting him
into the gun shop, to handling herself like a champ with the gangers. She was also clearly
connected in this city, so there was even a chance she could help.

“Looking for the Finn.” The solo had deliberately offered little information, to see how she would
react. To his disappointment, Molly only looked blankly at him.

“A specific Finn or just any dude from Finland?” She finally asked, realising he wasn’t elaborating
further.

‘So she doesn’t know. Oh well, was worth a shot.’ V sighed internally, but decided to offer her a bit
more info. “A specific Finn. Data broker from what I’ve heard.”

“Nope,” she shook her head, “no idea who you talking about, cowboy.”
“No problem, I already have a lead but since you were asking…”

“Good luck on your search though!” She gave him a pat on the shoulder.

JD got back, a tablet in hand.

“All done, Mr. V. I just need the payment and the car’s yours.”

“Awesome! I’ll drive it right now. Can I keep the Quadra with you for a bit?”

“Sure,” the clerk nodded, “we have a storage garage. If I can have your authorisation for the
vehicle, I will get one of my guys to clean it up and get it covered up for ya.”

“Great. And sorry about all of the spilled ketchup inside, Molly here is a very messy eater.” That
scored him a poke under the ribcage from her not-sharp nail.

“Do you want to be dropped off anywhere?” The merc offered as he settled into a new vehicle
while the razorgirl watched from the side.

“Nah, I’m alright. Let me know how your northman search goes.”

“Thanks a lot for your help Molly, would’ve been a total headache without ya.”

“No sweat, cowboy. Nice meeting ya.” She waved him off as the merc took his new toy out for a
ride.

——

After doing a few loops around the river to test the car out and grabbing some lunch, it was time he
headed to the location of where he was supposed to find the Finn.

V had to double check the marker on the map to make sure he was in the right place. ‘A fence
shop? Well, guess the guy has to have some sort of front.’

The merc walked in, prompting a bell above the door to jingle lightly. He looked around only to
 find a room full of stuff , from old computers to antiquated heirlooms, but not a soul in sight.

“Hello?” He proceeded deeper inside, checking between the rows of shelves. “I am looking for the
Finn.”

“You found him.” A croaking, robotic voice spoke from somewhere inside the store. Something
about it reminded V of the engrammed Saburo when he spoke through the console speakers.

Before the merc could do anything else, something heavy smacked him on the back of the head. As
his face met the floor and his consciousness started to slip, V just about managed to get a glimpse
of an oddly familiar pair of combat boots.

Chapter End Notes

V gets lucky again, as someone is out there to help him out and show around the
place.

So, in case you don’t know, Molly Millions is one of the recurring characters in
William Gibson’s Sprawl trilogy of books and is a certified badass in general. I am
aware that my version is more chirpy and flirty than the book’s ones, but there is a
reason for that.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading!

 Between a Corpo And a Hard Place
Chapter Summary

Aldecaldo’s troubled continue. Panam is sought out by a corporation.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Outskirts of Phoenix

There seemed to be no end to nomad’s troubles on this trip.

First there were Raffens, then there was a sandstorm that they, thankfully, just about managed to
dodge. Now, there was trouble with the Basilisk.

——

Panam was heading up the nomad convoy when it happened. They were making good pace,
visibility was great and there was no one in sight for miles. Then, out of nowhere, she heard the
sound of an explosion. The Aldecaldo chieftess immediately slowed the vehicle formation down to
a slower pace so they could assess the situation. In her side mirror, she saw a plume of smoke
rising from the right flank. Signalling to the rest to form a defensive position, Panam turned her rig
around to investigate.

It turned out that one of the thrusters in the Panzer had burnt out for some reason.

That was easily one of the worst things that could’ve happened. Leaving the Basilisk behind was
unthinkable - doing so would diminish the Aldecaldos’ firepower significantly and leave them
completely exposed on the journey between Phoenix and Tucson.

She didn’t even want to think of the damage to their employability and bargaining power that kind
of downgrade would create when they arrived, if they even managed to make it to the central hub
of Arizona at all.

The rest of the caravan was instructed to prep for a stop of unknown duration, but not to start
making camp just yet.
A good hour of digging in the innards of the damaged thruster, which was slowed down by the fact
that they needed to let it cool down to a temperature lower than ‘will melt your skin off if you are
not careful’ before even attempting to do anything. It turned out that some giant rodent, or a small
canine, somehow got sucked into the exhaust. Out of all things, it just had to be an animal, which
were all but extinct in these parts.

‘Nature is healing, fucking great,’ Panam thought at the time.

Another hour of cleaning out the charred bones later, they finally could get to work on trying to
salvage the vital parts. Looking for replacement parts was out of the question - the nearest pit stop
was Phoenix and that was still hours away. Sending a smaller, and therefore faster, skirmish team
was way too risky. A few cars this far away from a city were just asking to be ambushed, you
wouldn’t even need a big gang of Raffens to accomplish that.

The fate of the entire trip suddenly rested on the shoulders of one man - Mitch Anderson.

“Yeah, because using my full name doesn’t add to the pressure in the slightest,” the mechanic
complained as he climbed under the burnt-out section of the vehicle.

Panam issued a moratorium on bothering the gearhead veteran unless he explicitly requested help.
She personally took the position in the cockpit, diligently relaying diagnostic readings to Mitch
when asked to do so. This busywork helped her push the what-if thoughts out of her mind, for the
time being at least. She decided she would start panicking properly when the best technician she
had ever met would pronounce the tank inoperable.

It took Mitch three hours to take apart the thruster. And by ‘take apart’, literally disassemble
almost every part and lay it out on the canvas that was carefully laid out on the side of the
damaged tank to keep the dust off the parts and ensure none were missed in re-assembly.

Panam watched her friend just stand and stare at the neatly dispersed parts, unable to imagine what
kind of throught train was racing inside the man’s head.

Finally, the nomad’s face lit up, as if an idea light bulb had lit up above his head. He called Panam,
Bobby, Carol and a few other tech-savvy nomads over, all of whom were patiently waiting for their
instructions.

The solution was devilishly simple, if a bit insane. Under Mitch’s guidance, they disassembled the
working thruster on the other side of the Panzer. The operation took a mere half-hour. Panam
couldn’t believe just how quickly the man had learnt the inner workings of what was one of the
most complicated parts of the entire tank. Then, and that was done by Mitch himself, both thrusters
were re-assembled, splitting the broken bits 50/50 between the two. In theory, this would ensure
that the Basilisk could be propelled evenly on both sides, at the expense of speed.
“Mitch, if there is a god in the machine, he speaks through you.” Panam smacked the veteran’s
back in congratulations.

The man smiled sheepishly in response. “Let’s see if it works first.”

The pair loaded a small crate of leftover parts that had to be taken out to ensure the broken sections
of thrusters didn’t blow up again into the cargo hold before climbing into the cockpit.

Everyone else stepped back as Panam and Mitch both synced with the Basilisk. In case any
electronics had gone haywire as well, it was better any feedback was spread between the two of
them.

After a 3…2…1… countdown, Mitch engaged the ignition.

And…

It worked.

“It fucking worked!” Both shouted out loud simultaneously, their thoughts and voices echoing
across the neural link.

The two friends embraced, but quickly withdrew as the mirrored feedback hit both of them. Panam
may have been happy to get all physical with V while synced in the Basilisk, but it felt weird with
anyone else.

“You are fucking remarkable, Mitch! Thank you!” ecstatic chieftess burst out.

“Anything for my favourite chief,” the veteran winked.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Saul, who was standing by the opened cockpit, smirked at the
excited pair, making the mechanic sink back into his seat. “Amazing job, Mitch.”

“Let’s get moving!” Eager Panam was already climbing out of the tank to let Bobby reclaim his
seat.
——

Basilisk's speed penalty was dragging them behind big time. The cargo war machine wasn’t
particularly fast to begin with, compared to normal nomad vehicles. Now, the convoy really had to
slow down in order to let the damaged machine keep up.

“It’s fine.” Panam kept telling herself. As long as the Panzer made it to Phoenix, she was fine with
it. Now they really had to stop over near the city for a while.

Finally, weary and exhausted, the family arrived at the co-ords that were promising to be a good
camping site, courtesy of an earlier drone reconnaissance exercise. The chosen location was on the
bank of Agua Fria River, which was more of a stream, really. Nonetheless, a source of freshwater
was always a welcome bonus. If the water wasn’t toxic, there was even a possibility of a swim,
which the nomads always welcomed.

Panam consulted with Saul first thing, both chieftains arriving to a conclusion that they had no
choice but to set up a more permanent camp, despite their best laid out plans to use Phoenix only as
a layover location. Between the need for replacements parts for the Basilisk and the need to
replenish the resources that got stretched out over the multiple delays, rushing to Tucson was not
even a naive hope, but more of a suicide mission.

No matter the strength of her desire to reunite with V as soon as possible, she wouldn’t be able to
see him at all if she was dead in a ditch somewhere in the middle of the desert.

At least they already had some leads on work contracts, courtesy of Dakota’s relentless
negotiations throughout the journey.

‘She might have been a bit too efficient,’ Panam thought to herself as a corpo-marked AV appeared
on the radar mere minutes after the nomads had finished setting up the main campsite. The
identification tag of the flying vehicle tagged it as one from ‘NetLink Software’, a corpo Panam
wasn’t too familiar with.

A quick search revealed that they were headquartered in Phoenix and that their specialty, as the
name suggested, was primarily in software and microchips.

According to Dakota’s earlier report, she did reach out to this corp, so their arrival wasn’t too
surprising - some smaller companies liked to get their foot in the door early, before their bigger
competitors had a chance to nab the most lucrative contracts.

The AV landed a respective distance away from the camp. The vehicle was just a standard
Zetatech Atlas, not unlike the ones used by Trauma Team back in NC. Except, this one was painted
over black, instead of spotting the usual white livery with medical decals. It was nowhere close as
sleek as the Rayfield or even Arasaka AVs that most corpos used to impress those they dealt with.
This could mean either of the two things - either this corpos didn’t give a rat’s ass to impress the
Aldecaldos, or could not afford to do so.

Neither reasons sat too well with Panam.

Many of the nomads had stopped what they were doing, watching the unexpected vehicle with
guarded curiosity. Saul gestured to some of the veterans to keep their weapons ready as the side
door of the vehicle opened. In turn, Panam engaged Warhorse’s AI defence system on standby, just
in case.

She caught a glimpse of a rather lavish interior before her attention focused solely on the
passengers that were now stepping out of the cockpit. The most surprising thing about all of this
turned out to be the fact that there were only three passengers that they could see come out. There
could be a pilot, but besides that there was nowhere to hide in the vehicle, so that was likely it in
terms of the arrival party. The bald man at the front looked completely unarmed, while his two
companions carried an SMG each. The weapons were lazily slung over their shoulders - there was
clearly no intention to use them.

‘What kind of madman arrives unannounced to a nomad camp with just two bodyguards?’ Panam
thought to herself in bewilderment.

‘A corpo that looks defenseless is the most dangerous kind.’ V’s advice echoed in her head,
prompting the nomad to stiffen up. Indeed, coming out there like that meant that these guys must
have had an ace up their sleeve. She had to be careful not to provoke them into revealing it, as that
could prove deadly to the clan.

“Welcome!” Saul stepped forward in front of the crowd of fellow nomads, spreading his hands in a
friendly gesture. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

“Saul Bright.” The man at the front of the trio of corporate newcomers glanced at the older leader
with a bored stare. “We are not here to speak to you. Where is your co-leader?”

Panam couldn’t believe the audacity with which the man had dismissed Saul in front of the whole
clan. If it was her standing in the man’s place, the corpo would have already scored a bullet
between the eyes, but Saul was much better at enduring corporation-induced humiliation. His
earlier dealings with Biotechnica proved as much.

“Looking for me?” Panam stepped out of the crowd to join Saul at the front. Surprised, shocked
and outraged whispers that erupted between the Aldecaldos did not escape her - she was put on the
spot to diffuse the situation.

“To repeat Saul’s very apt question, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Her appearance seemed to have pleased the corpo douchebag. He smiled widely, which somehow
made his already unsettling expression even more unbecoming.

“Panam Palmer,” the man spoke, “it is good to see you. We have plenty to discuss.”

“Speak then,” the nomad chieftess demanded.

“We would rather do so privately, if you would be so kind?” The corpo’s way of speaking
unsettled Panam, particularly the way he said ‘we’. She couldn’t quite place why, but her gut
twisted tighter every time the man opened his mouth.

“So be it.” She gave Saul a nod that was more of a request to proceed on her own rather than
anything else. Thankfully, she received an approving nod back. “We can talk over there, by the
smaller fire.”

They stepped towards the pyre that was lit on the side of the camp.

In locations where there wasn’t enough protection from winds, camps had a separate fire going to
cook food over, located a distance away from the main settlement in order to avoid the whole camp
smelling like a slab of smoked bacon. As delicious as that sounded in theory, given the limited
supply of water on most occasions and thus shower time, nobody really wanted to smell like a
barbeque for days at a time. They may have set up by the river now, but the habits of setting up
camp in a certain way were hard to break.

“We appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” the bald man continued, again making that ‘we’
sound unnecessarily weird, “NetLink Software puts a lot of hope in your ability to work with us
towards a mutual goal.”

“Let’s just make something clear first,” Panam raised her hand to interrupt any following bullshit
before she could speak her piece, “I certainly did not appreciate the way you spoke to my co-
chieftain over there. Give me one reason why we shouldn’t just mow you three down right here
and now.”

“We apologise for any offence caused by our earlier communications with your comrade,” the
man’s demeanor hadn’t changed a bit even despite the thinly veiled threat, “but, just as you, we do
not like to waste time and the matter we want to bring forth is not worth discussing with anyone but
yourself.”

“In addition, we have made considerable precautions to avoid the threat of violence during our
encounter. The person who is currently patched into your holo-link can testify to that.”

Panam had to engage all of her willpower to not peddle back in shock from the casually thrown
revelation that her premeditated holo link with Carol was so easily discovered.

“He speaks the truth, Panam. There is some sort of missile strike aimed at the entire camp site and
a two-mile radius around us. They didn’t bother to mask the aiming beam so we could see it
ourselves.’ Carol’s words over the holo had filled Panam with a deep sense of dread. These guys
were two steps ahead, and they didn’t even look like they were trying too hard.

“Fine,” she finally answered, “what is it you want with me, with us?”

“We want you to convince V, your now-husband, to reconsider his course of actions to instead
allow us to study him. In return, we will ensure he is cured in order to continue living his life.”

Panam could take a billion guesses, but she would never even consider the fact that some minor
corporation out of Arizona’s smaller city would a) find out about V and the Relic, b) would claim
to have the cure for the merc’s very unique condition, and c) have the audacity to openly suggest
they had said cure before the infinitely more capable giants like Arasaka, who, she knew for a fact,
were struggling to even find a way to slow down the degradation of the brain caused by the rogue
chip, let alone cure it.

The sheer complexity of the inner emotion had helped her maintain the outward composure, as her
own feelings struggled to decide which one was more dominant, ultimately cancelling each other
out for long enough to allow Panam to consciously force all of them down in the name of keeping
a straight face.

“And what would you , NetLink that is, do if V was to agree to participate in your programme over
a surefire solution he is going for in London?”

“Let us not kid ourselves, Miss Palmer,” the corpo envoy’s smug smile was infuriating on at least
five different levels, “we all know that V is chasing a remote possibility in London. And that said
possibility is very hard to find, as he is soon to find out.”

Panam kept her silence, mostly because she was still recovering from the earlier shock and
definitely didn’t have the mental capacity to come up with a snide response.

“But to answer your question,” the man continued eventually, “we want to study the Relic and the
way it affects its ‘hosts’, to try to understand how and why it worked in such a way that it did with
your precious husband.”
“Fine, if that’s what you want to believe.” Panam stared the shorter man down, “can you guarantee
that V will be safe and not dying by the time you are done?”

“As you can imagine,” the guy had almost an apologetic tone as he spoke, “the procedure is
promising to be extensive and risky, so we cannot fully commit to the outcome.”

“How very insurance-compliant of you,” the chieftess mocked, “how do you know about the Relic
anyway?”

“Fair question, too.” The corpo envoy made an acknowledging nod in her direction, “Anders
Hellman isn’t as smart as he pretends to be. He had secretly contacted us for help to recreate the
chip that Alt Cunningham had designed. We agreed, so we retain the knowledge of the original
blueprints. More importantly, we know what the Relic can be, when it is unrestricted by shallow
ambitions of Arasaka leadership.”

“Colour me impressed,” Panam smirked, “but I will need some proof that you are not just making
all of this up based on some PI’s stalking expedition of me, my husband and my associates in order
to coerce us into doing some gigs for you.”

“Of course, Miss Palmer. We do not intend to hide anything from you, or V if he chooses to assist.
The man that helped Mr. Hellman is currently in our employ, here in Phoenix. You can meet him
whenever you so wish.”

“Fine. You made your proposition very clear,” Panam barely pushed back a yawn, “but we’ve
trekked for fourteen hours straight. So if you’ll excuse me, I have a clan to settle down.”

“Of course,” the bald man bowed slightly, “we will ensure your people are not disturbed. Here is
how to reach us.”

He passed her a shimmering holographic business card. For a corpo specialising in software, this
was ironically old-school. The card had no name on it, just the corp’s logo and a QR code that she
could scan with her ocular overlay to download the contact info.

“No need, but thank you regardless,” she declined politely.

The corpos gave a short bow and departed as quickly as they arrived.
 The exchange was relatively not threatening, save for the whole missile strike possibility, which
was more of a safety precaution than a tangible threat. Nonetheless, something told Panam that this
surprise deal wasn’t going to end well for anyone involved, especially V. Anyone who was
interested in the Relic usually treated its host as a mere meat sleeve, ready to be discarded at the
earliest convenience.

She stayed up for a long while, despite the tiredness that nagged at her eyelids to close. Her
thoughts were occupied by V, his condition, the lead in London and the corpo proposal. The
number of moving parts kept increasing and she felt that soon their volume would bring this
operation to a screeching halt.

There was only one person who would have the right answers to all of these dilemmas. ‘ If only V
answered his goddamn phone…’

Chapter End Notes

I am keeping that V cliffhanger just a little bit longer.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 Lord of the Ring
Chapter Summary

V gets to meet the Finn, who has a proposition for him.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Finally regaining consciousness, V found himself sitting in an old school leather armchair. It took a
few moments for his vision to clear - even with cyberware, the brain could still take time to try and
process the visual feed after being knocked out.

The room looked sort-of similar to the pawn shop he had visited before someone whacked him on
the head. Perhaps this was the back room or the basement?

The merc raised his head, the motion that was accompanied by a wave of nausea. He probably had
a light concussion.

“You didn’t have to hit him so hard.” A robotic voice spoke out from somewhere V couldn’t see.

The solo found himself sitting in front of a huge mahogany desk, with a CEO-of-a-coal-company
style office chair behind it that was currently turned away.

“I wasn’t sure if he had a bone reinforcement implant or not. You pay me to be effective, so I was.”
Familiar voice answered, just as the large chair swivelled around to reveal Molly sitting in it,
grinning smugly at still dazed V.

“Molly, what the fuck?” The man exclaimed with surprise. She was the last person he’d expect to
be in on this, although that was perhaps a naive assumption. Everyone could double cross anyone.

“Sorry, cowboy,” the razorgirl shrugged, “Finn’s orders were to knock you out.”

“You could’ve just asked me to come quietly! You knew I was looking for him anyway.” All of
this spectacle seemed utterly unnecessary to V.
“And you’ve been warned that unannounced guests leave in body bags.” The disembodied voice
retorted bluntly.

“Henry… is he in on this too?” The merc suddenly felt a different kind of nausea, the kind that
came with a realisation that he might have been set up from the very beginning.

“Not at all. The opposite, in fact,” the Finn explained, “the guy was just watching out for you. Got
in touch, asked I go easy on ya. So don’t worry, he didn’t sell you out. Although… our bartender
isn’t without his secrets either.”

“And you call this going easy?” V touched the sore spot at the back of his head, wincing
immediately as sensitive flesh responded with a jolt of pain even at the slightest of touches. ‘That
will be sore for a while…’

“You are alive, aren’t ya?” Molly raised an important point. It could be worse.

“Ok then, what’s the deal?” The merc had enough of the pointless chatter and just wanted to know
the reason for why he was brought to this last-century place in such a rude manner.

“And the deal is, dear V,” If the heavily accented voice had a face, it would probably be grinning
at that moment, “is that you are known to be quite effective in sowing chaos and bringing
destruction wherever you go.”

“Yes, of course I know who you are. I am an info broker, ain’t I? Knowing things is my job and
what kind of amateur would I be if I didn’t know that Night City’s most famous merc was in my
city, and asking for me, no less.”

The man clearly delighted in V’s poorly veiled surprise as he let out a cackle before continuing his
short monologue.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna kill you. If I wanted to, Sweet Meat over here would have used her
precious blades, instead of that antique candelabra.”

V spotted the heavy object sitting on the desk. There was a streak of blood smeared on one of its
ends, blood was definitely his.

“I just had to take precautions,” the Finn finally explained.

“What kind of precautions?”

“Couldn’t have a skilled hacker like you just waltz into my establishment.”

V instinctively engaged the hack overlay, but instead of the interface that allowed him to scan his
targets and upload all kinds of hacks into their systems, he got a painful jolt of pain not unlike what
the Relic was doing, right into his brain.

“AAAGH, what the fuck is that?” The merc screamed out in pain. Thankfully the torture subsided
as soon as he disengaged from the hacking module.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” robotic voice warned, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“But how the fuck?”

“Shard in your head,” Molly pointed at the side of V’s skull, “it blocks any hacking interfaces and
provides deterrents from trying to access them.”

V involuntarily reached for the spot where his ports were but the razorgirl shook her head.

“You try to take it out before we disable it and you’ll pass out. We will just re-insert it again.
Rinse, repeat.”

“Fine,” accepting his fate, V leant back into the chair, “I take it that means you want something
from me.”

“How very perceptive of you,” the Finn’s compliment was said with a strong dose of sarcasm, “as
you may have also deduced, I am not some kind of Wizard of Oz wannabe, speaking through a
voice modulator from behind a curtain to maintain a sense of mystery. I am an engram.”

The revelation made no impression on the merc, which the info broker had clearly expected.

“You’ve dealt with plenty of those, I gather.”

A holographic projection of Johnny Silverhand appeared above the table.

“Like this colourful individual, who, until recently, inhabited your head, I hear. Or this one.”

Johnny’s image was quickly replaced by a still from the viral video where V shot the Saburo-
occupied cyborg in the head.

“Very impressive work, mind you. Couldn’t stand the guy.”

“Which one?” V raised an eyebrow. His question was aimed at testing how truly well-informed
this man was.

“Either of them.” The engram was very much in-the-know. “As you see, I know quite a bit of you,
Mr. V. So I guess you wouldn’t be too surprised to know I also know who you are looking for in
our good ol’ London.”

The hologram shifted again, now to reveal a stately woman in her mid 30-s. The hologram was
wearing a revealing black dress with a lace shawl covering only her arms, and not what one would
expect it to cover. There was no reason for this particular look to be chosen aside from pure self-
indulgence on the Finn’s side.

“Her name’s Vesper Lynd. Yes, like the drink. Don’t be fooled by the looks, she is very much the
genius bio-engineer that can solve your little predicament.”

“So, let me guess,” V lent forward, choosing to speak at the desk as the proxy for the engram, “you
want a clone of yourself, so you can have your body back.”

“Almost,” the Finn corrected, “I want a clone of yourself .”

“What?” The other man’s words were like a gust of wind directed straight at the merc, forcing him
to pull back.

“You see,” the broker set to explain nonchalantly, “when I was alive, in the flesh that is, I couldn’t
say I’ve exactly won the genetic lottery, unlike yourself. My body was average at best, and then
decided to develop cancer on top of that too.”

“Since I have the opportunity, I may as well score an upgrade.”

“Absolutely fu-“ V had started to protest the crazy idea, but the Finn cut him off.

“Don’t worry. From what I know, Miss Lynd can make suitable adjustments so that my clone’s
appearance will differ from yours. So we won’t have a twin situation going there.” The engram
paused for a while, possibly measuring his next words. “Although, judging by your taste in
weaponry and vehicles, I would take you for quite a narcissist, Mr. V. So perhaps two of you will
seem like a bonus?”

“Never knew liking good things in life makes one a narcissist,” the merc spat back.

He decided that the whole ‘give another man a copy of his body’ discussion can wait until he
actually finds this Vesper woman. There was no point in antagonising this guy beforehand.

“Perhaps. So, do we have a deal?”

“You forgot to outline the exact terms of this deal.”

“Right, of course. Business-savvy, just as they said you will be.” The Finn made V wonder who
were ‘they’ that the info broker was referring to. “Deal is as follows - you find our cloning lady
extraordinaire, you do whatever you need to do to talk her into cloning you, and just go the extra
mile to ask for a two-for-one deal. Shouldn’t be much of an additional trouble for such a talented
individual such as yourself.”

The broker paused, giving V time for any answers or interjections. When he heard silence instead,
the man continued.

“And you, in turn, get to have Molly here to help you out. As you saw for yourself, she can be
quite the tour guide around these parts. And, from what she told me, you could certainly use one of
those.”

V considered the proposition for a moment. The offer was pretty much a boost to his efforts to
begin with in return for a potential headache later. He was very aware that he had two other bodies
to ask for, besides his own. Adding one more felt like a relatively marginal increase at this point,
but could also mean that he would be asking for too much. With no idea of the process to clone a
person, he had no idea how much more complicated it was to do it an additional time. Either way,
there was one more point to cover - costs.

“I can’t imagine an additional clone will come cheap,” the merc asked.

“Very unlikely indeed,” the Finn agreed, “I have an inkling to just say you tap into the vast
Arasaka fortune you have access to, but I would hate to be indebted to a corp, no matter how much
more benevolent the new head is.”

“Just say the word and you will have the necessary funds made available to cover any incremental
expenses.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t like V had any other choice but to agree.

“Splendid!” the engram exclaimed, “In that case, I will let you and Moll clear the air from any
lingering senses of betrayal.”
Somehow V felt that the digitised psyche had really left the room.

Still pissed at the woman for deceiving him, the merc stood up without a word and headed for the
door. Before he reached even halfway to his destination, a cool hand gripped his wrist tightly.

“V, wait.” Coming very close to him, Molly looked to the side of his head. Her eyes flashed blue
for a second before she reached out and with a press of her finger, the blocking chip popped out.
The razorgirl quickly grabbed the shiny piece of plastic and stashed it in one of her jacket’s many
pockets.

The solo engaged the hacking overlay again, happily discovering it was back online and not
zapping at his brain. He had a fleeting thought of uploading a mild hack into the two-faced
woman’s cyberweare just to spite her, but decided to take the high road on this one.

——

The room he was held in was indeed just in the back of the shop, although its entrance was hidden
behind a bookshelf. ‘How charmingly spy-like.’

The pair now both stood awkwardly outside the store, each waiting for the other to speak.

“Soo…” Molly finally broke the standstill, “I guess I should apologise for whacking you with a
candlestick, shouldn’t I?”

“I’d rather you apologise for lying to me first.” V couldn’t believe the knockout was the thing she
felt bad about. “Were you spying on me the whole time?”

“Not the whole time, ” the female merc looked down, as if the pavement was the most interesting
thing in the world. “Honestly, I ran into you in the market by pure chance. I was actually going to
do my nails in prep for this job, just in case.”

“Imagine my surprise when my target was right there, trying to get into the same shop as I was
going to.”

“And all the advice, and the car dealer? All a ruse to get into my good graces?”
“Yes and no. Finn was very clear from the start he was paying me to help you. I just started doing
so before you agreed to help him.”

She gave V a playful wink. The merc found it hard to be mad at this annoyingly charismatic
woman. She did help him, and a lot - there was no arguing there.

“Okay, water under the bridge,” the merc raised his hands with open palms as a sign of
forgiveness. “But please, next time - just tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Molly nodded with a content smile. She was clearly happy to be back in his good graces
again.

“Where to now?” V switched his attention back at the main task at hand.

‘Now we go to see the slimy bastard that is holed out at the old Savoy hotel. The guy runs a clone
fighting ring. Bound to know how to get to our woman. Plus, he is rumoured to be a clone himself,
but that’s highly unsubstantiated.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

——

The stately building was tucked away in-between many others, but it was clearly built with the
intention to set it apart from the rest. Most notably, it had its own little courtyard with remnants of
a fountain at the centre. The space would have been used to drop off the wealthy patrons right at
the front door, away from the simpletons using the main street. V imagined lavish cars pulling in
and out, circling round the fountain as they dropped off tycoons, princesses, baronesses and lords,
or whatever the titles in this posh country were.

Now, though, what must have been a grand display of welcoming grandeur, was but a shadow of
itself. Half of the glass was broken, one of the doors was hanging by a single hinge, the whole
thing clearly wasn’t maintained in decades. Great buildings such as this one only looked more
depressing when they were forgotten and left in disrepair.

Inside was very much a continuation of the exterior - lavish decor with a layer of sadness that came
through years of neglect. The interior was falling apart piece by piece. Moths had a feast at the
plush carpets, gilded chandeliers shed flakes of gold leaf and some of the ornate furniture laid
broken.

Nonetheless, hints of the original splendour were very clear, even in the current condition that V
found the place in.

The merc followed Molly, who clearly knew where she was going yet again, through the spacious
foyer and deeper into the building.

A long corridor later, they stepped into a room that was much bigger and even more lavishly
decorated than the lobby. A circle of velour-covered armchairs surrounded a cast-iron cage, where
topless dancers whirled around poles which were clearly installed at a much later time. Watching
them were a bunch of characters who could be mercenaries, gangsters, or somewhere inbetween.

This wasn’t their stop, though, as his guide pressed on, steering to the left of the grand hall.

The sort-of alcove had a completely different vibe compared to the main room.

Two mean-looking guards stood at the entrance, dressed in smart shirts and trousers, each spotting
a harness with a pair of pistols holstered under each arm. Behind them was what could possibly be
a bar, judging by the marble-topped counter at one end.

Sitting at the far end in what could only be described as a throne sat a man who was likely to be
their target. His grand seat was surrounded by two smaller chairs that were occupied by two, also
topless, women who were feeding the man grapes and puring him wine as he looked over the
scenes unravelling in the main room as some sort of wannabe demigod.

The man himself looked rather unremarkable - plain facial features and bald, V wouldn’t recall
meeting him even if they were introduced. The only distinctive feature were his piercing eyes
which betrayed keen intellect, and quite possibly devilish guile. What was lacking in appearance,
though, was clearly compensated with lavish clothing. He wore a crimson fur-collared frock, velvet
trousers and gold-studded slippers. The outfit looked as if it was styled after what royalty would
wear, if done by people who had never seen what they wore in reality.

V already didn’t like this guy.

As he and Molly approached, the two bodyguards both lifted their hands to stop them.

“Need to talk to Gideon,” the razorgirl nodded at the man in the big chair.

“Who’s the dickhead?” One of the muscleheads was referring to V.

“He’s with me, we are here on Finn’s business.”

“Fine. Come through, but weapons stay with us.”

V reluctantly gave up the Malorian.

“Hello, Gideon.” Molly didn’t look particularly happy to be there, but put up a smile anyway.

“Sally! It’s been ages! So good to see you.” The man gave the razorgirl a sly grin, waving away the
other women. “What brings you to my humble establishment?”

He clearly didn’t actually find the place that humble.

“Wanna chat about your clones, Gid.” ‘Sally’ was driving straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Gideon leant back in the throne, crossing his legs.

“Aw, c’mon. Everyone knows.”

“Well, if everyone knows… ” He raised his arms to the ceiling. “Why talk when we can just go
have a looksie.”

He stood up, straightening out his long coat, gesturing for them to follow.

“Come, come with me.”

Gideon strutted through the main hall, guiding them through another set of doors on the other
side.

V noticed how the women stayed but the bodyguards followed. He wasn’t too happy with going
into the belly of this guy’s domain unarmed, but there wasn’t much to do about that. At least Molly
had her blades with her and he had his monowire. Plus, it wasn’t like he was a stranger to having to
zero a guard to get himself a weapon.

They went deeper into the building finally passing through a hole in the wall which V realised
connected it to the next building that wasn’t part of the hotel. This section was clearly more
damaged than the previous one, yet it seemed heavily guarded. More meatheads with SMGs
greeted them at every door.

Descending into the basement, V felt more and more uneasy. Making it out of here, if things went
south, would be more difficult.

His concern lifted somewhat when they entered a huge, well-lit room which roared with the sound
of people screaming and yelling. In the middle was a pit, created by either a cave-in or an
explosion. In the middle of it stood two giants, their chiselled muscles glistering in the bright light.
They looked inhuman in their proportions.
 “Are those…” The merc had to collect himself and close his slacked jaw. He sincerely hoped that
his version would come in V-sized proportions.

“Yep!” Gideon looked very happy with himself, which felt like his default mood. “My prized
fighters.”

“They link to human operators,” he pointed to two people sitting cross-legged on each side of the
ring with BD-like wreaths on their heads, “we can’t have such hulks think for themselves now, can
we?”

“Last chance to place your bets, ladies and gents!” The announcer yelled into the mic.

“We know you get them from Vesper Lynd,” Molly ventured before the fight distracted their host.
“Where can we find her?”

“That info will cost you a big favour,” Gideon smiled slyly.

“What is it?” V sighed, everyone always wanted him to do something for them.

“Let’s get a drink, watch the fight. Then we can talk.” The lavishly dressed man was already
walking towards the VIP area where another throne waited for him.

V and Molly shared a pained look and rushed to follow.

Chapter End Notes

The first half was written already so I thought I’ll post sooner than first planned. Let
me know what you thought!

I’ve realised that I’ve had two unlikeable characters being explicitly called out as bold
in two chapters in a row. That’s not an intentional jab at bold people, I assure you! Just
kind of happened that way as I was writing these characters almost a month apart in
my outlines and it just coincided that they appeared one after the other in the story.

Thanks for reading!

 Hard-to-refuse offers
Chapter Summary

V and Molly watch the fight between the two clones on Gideon’s behest. Panam goes
to meet the corporation that promises to save V.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

V and Molly reluctantly settled into plush, if a bit worn, armchairs on each side of the ring boss.
Those places were normally reserved for the concubine like those upstairs, no doubt.

With a wave of his hand, the crime boss summoned three glasses of brown liquid that smelled like
scotch. Such a direct drinks order was very presumptuous of him, but neither V nor Molly were
there to have a good time over some cocktails, so they simply accepted the glasses with a nod and
settled them on their respective side tables.

“What’s the gig, Gideon?” The razorgirl turned to the bald man as soon as he himself settled in the
throne-chair of his.

“Oh come ooon, Sal. Since when have you become such a bore?” He dismissed her with a shooing
wave of a hand in her direction. “Watch the fight first.”

Accepting their fates, the two mercs settled more comfortably to watch the clash of the titans about
to unfold in front of them.

The two beastly forms lashed at each other at the first sound of the gong, raising clouds of dust all
around them. The crowd exploded in excited cheering, as each attendee tried to egg the fighters on,
many hoping the bets they had placed earlier would pay off.

While either of the clones was clearly augmented to be taller and more muscular, they weren’t
exactly identical. One was built for agility, with a leaner, more toned body and not an ounce of fat.
In the pre-fight sparring session, he deftly dodged his opponent’s jabs instead of blocking them.

Although when it came to the other guy, blocking his hits would be suicide anyway. The second
clone was clearly built for a different approach - raw stopping power. His muscles were huge and
there was a protective layer of fat covering fleshier, and thus more vulnerable, spots. He was
slower, but every jab looked like it could punch a hole in one of the solid concrete walls of the
building.
Whichever way either of these were leaning in terms of fighting style, V would pay money to be
away from any fight they would participate in.

“So… how keen are you to have a word with Miss Lynd?” Gideon asked casually, eyes still fixated
on the fight.

In his defence, one of the monstrous clones had just smashed a large slab of concrete into another’s
face, only to be sucker-punched in retaliation. Neither V nor Molly could look away either.

“Very,” V answered simply. He had no intention to give the crime lord any more leverage by
showing how desperate he really was to find the elusive scientist.

“In that case,” V saw the man smirk from the corner of his eye, “I hope you will be very motivated
to do this job for me.”

“Still didn’t tell us what kind of job it is.”

Anything that had to be this veiled in mystery would never spell good fortune to the ones meant to
execute it.

“Something had been stolen from me,” Gideon paused to take a large sip from his cut-crystal glass,
“and I want it back.”

“Oh please, Gid, no need for so much detail,” Molly rolled her eyes at the astonishing lack of info.

“Ever so impatient, this one,” the bald man waved the razorgirl off with his non-drinking hand,
“you will see what it is once you get there.”

“How are you so sure we’ll recognise it?”

“I am not just sure, I am certain. Trust me on this one.”

A quick glance shared between V and Molly confirmed neither of them trusted this guy. Not in the
slightest.

“Fine,” the woman sunk into her chair with frustration, “would you at least tell us who it is we will
be retrieving it from? Liberalists? Razorcaps?”

“If I knew who it was, they’d already be in the ground.” Gideon had a point, but they still didn’t
have diddly-squat on this gig. “I do know where though.”

Finally, at least some sort of information! Gideon’s eyes flickered bright blue for a second as he
sent the pair the coordinates of the place where the mystery object was meant to be found.

With no knowledge of the city, V had no idea what to make of the location. ‘At least it’s not in
Shoreditch,’ was all he could conclude.

Molly, on the other hand, frowned. The area was clearly familiar to her.

“Who would have a hideout stashing stolen goods in that area?” The razorgirl raised an inquisitive
eyebrow at their host.

“Beats me.” Gideon pulled what was probably meant to be a face of innocent ignorance, but turned
out more of a mask of mischief.

A thundering sound of crushing rock followed by a monstrous growl made them look back at the
arena. The meatier of the fighters had just slammed his slender opponent into the sidewall of the
arena, creating a clone-shaped hole in the process.

The other creature kicked back promptly, escaping a follow-up punch, but the damage was already
done. In the cracks in concrete where the impact split the stone-like material protruded steel rods
that were meant to act as reinforcements. Some of them were now covered in bright red blood.

V was amazed that such an attack hadn't killed the recipient outright. Fact that the injured fighter
was still standing was a miracle altogether. The merc had to remind himself these two were only
human at their core, which was hard to see given the grizzly display he had just witnessed.

The more slender of the clones - who V had dubbed ‘Skinny’ in his head - was slouched forward,
his injuries clearly weighing him down. One of the arms was hanging limply, fingers pointing
down at the floor. Blood was now dripping from Skinny’s back, forming gruesome streams as it
pooled at the spine before staining the dusty ground. The fully-human operator sat on the edge of
the arena was also wincing, perhaps the link also passed some of the physical sensation back to the
person controlling the hulks.

It seemed that brawn was about to win this fight after all.

The injured fighter kept strafing to the side, maintaining distance between himself and his
opponent - now referred to as ‘Chunky’ - who looked confident in his win, as much as the
expressionless face could show any sort of emotion.
Chunky’s operator, on the other hand, was certainly very pleased with himself, a smug grin
marking his face even through a mask of deep concentration.

“C’mon Skinny, you can do it,” the merc, always one to support the underdog, muttered under his
breath.

The larger fighter finally ran out of patience and lunged at his retreating opponent, fist pulled back,
ready to deliver the killing blow.

‘Do they even fight to the death here?’ V asked himself. All of this was too wild to figure out what
the stakes were. On one hand, it felt wasteful to pit these, borderline priceless and surely very hard
to come by, creatures in one-off battles. On the other, if he’d ever learnt anything, it was that
crowds knew no bounds when it came to seeking cruelty for the sake of entertainment.

He snapped his mind back from musings about human obsession with violence to focus on the
singular display of it happening right in front of him.

Speedy braced for what seemed like the final impact of Chunky’s fist, kneeling down, to protect
vital body parts from being hit, V guessed. The merc was preparing to see his favoured fighter
pulverised when suddenly, half a second before the big clone’s fist would have crushed his ribcage,
Skinny shot his supposedly damaged arm forward with a whip-like speed, catching Chunky right in
the jaw. The hulk’s travel trajectory got diverted off to the side, as he fell face-first onto the dusty
floor of the ring.

It was over. Battered and bleeding, but the fighter V was rooting for had won.

The solo couldn’t tell if the knocked-out clone was dead or not, but he would certainly need some
jaw realignment after a punch like that.

Both ‘pilots’ now took off their wreaths and stood to see the aftermath of their battle first hand. As
expected, one of them was yelling and fistpumping in celebration, while the other kicked the floor,
clearly furious at letting victory slip from his grasp.

“What a show!” Gideon stood up, applauding the winning fighter. His voice echoed through the
room over speakers. He clearly had some wireless connection to broadcast his speeches. “To all of
you who bet on the fight, congratulations to the winners, and better luck next time to the losers!”

“But most importantly,” the lavishly-dressed man swept his index finger across the roused
audience, “you all should go back to the bar and say thank you to your gracious host - me that is -
by spending a truckload of money on booze and drugs. Or hit the casino, and I hope luck smiles at
you there as well!”

He sat back down before looking left then right at his guests. “Enjoyed the show?”
V couldn’t answer immediately, because he was still torn as to his opinion on what he had just
witnessed.

“S’cool, good fight that one. Obviously a clean one too, you can’t stage shit like this.” Molly
nodded with a genuinely impressed expression. “Now, do you have any other non-details to share
with us, or should we just get on with it?”

——

“It’s a really bad idea, Panam.”

“I know.”

“No, like a really, really bad idea.”

“I. Know.”

“Remember how I told you hijacking the Basilisk was a bad idea? Or how aligning ourselves with
Arasaka was a bad idea? Well… This is worse. Much worse.” Saul stood at the entrance of her tent
as Panam laced up her boots.

“Yes, but may I remind you that in the end, we scored ourselves a fucking tank and now the
world’s most powerful megacorp owes us.” She stood up and met his disapproving gaze head-on,
mimicking Saul’s trademark hands-crossed stance that he took every time he was unhappy with
something. He took that stance a lot.

Her direct, but fair retort gave the older man a pause. She knew she had a point, but he was also
right that, at the time of their conception, these ideas were outright disastrous. Yet, compared to
this latest one, everything else looked like a surefire bet.

“Do you really think they can cure him?” The chieftain approached the topic from a different
angle.

“Probably not? Maybe? I don’t know!” Panam raised her arms to the heaves in frustration. How
was she meant to know what this random corp could or couldn’t do, when they just showed up on
their doorstep like they did the day earlier?
“Fine.” Saul agreed to her unspoken plan, without much need for convincing. That wasn’t like him
at all.

“But you are going with an escort, and that’s non-negotiable.” And there he was again!

“They specifically said I have to come alone.”

“Fuck what they said. I am not letting you walk in there on your own. This is not how we do things
around here.” Panam recounted her conversation with the corpo baldie word-for-word to her co-
chieftain, Carol even confirmed her version of events to be true. Yet, the man still refused to accept
that the Aldecaldos weren’t in a position to make up conditions.

“And you think I don’t know that? I am fucking terrified, Saul.” Panam looked away, surprised by
her own show of vulnerability in front of someone who wasn’t her husband. “I’d much rather have
you, or Cass, or Mitch come with to watch my back…”

‘ If only V could come with me…’ was what she really wanted to say, but decided that the situation
was tense enough without what-ifs mixed into it as well.

“I hate this,” Saul winced, “but I guess we have no choice.”

“Pretty much sums it up, yeah,” the woman sighed.

“But if you don’t come back within the next twelve hours, we are gonna bring such a shitshow on
NetLink’s doorstep that they will wish they had nuked themselves with those missiles of theirs.”

Saul’s infuriated threat at the corp who couldn’t even hear them reminded Panam of the man he
used to be, 10-ish years ago. The hothead leader that would not hesitate to raise a corporation if any
of his family had come to harm. Being deeper into nomad territories clearly did the man good.

With another loud sigh, probably the hundredth of the day, she scanned the business card to dial up
the creepy corpo dude.

——

The NetLink office was exactly what Panam expected to see. It had all of the dreadful ‘you are
going to come to this concrete box of sadness every day until you die’ vibes, but none of the
glamour or grandeur that could be found in offices of megacorps like Arasaka or Militech.

As she approached the main entrance, the nomad wondered how many people with personalities
that could only be described as ‘beige’ were there to fill out the towering building. It turned out that
there were plenty of those, because the office was buzzing with activity. Scores of people darted
back and forth between different wings of the building that were connected by a sprawling lobby,
like drone ants guided by the unseen will of the colony.

“… but NetLink HQ is not just a corporate office! We are connected to our production facilities by
an underground tunnel. Can you just imagine?!”

An annoyingly enthusiastic desk clerk somehow ended up becoming her - totally unwanted and
absolutely not requested - tour guide as he took his time to usher the nomad to her designated
meeting room.

“Hello, Miss Palmer.” The envoy from the day before greeted her as soon as Panam entered.

Him waiting for her was odd. Corpos usually were in the habit of making you wait to show who
was the important one in the discussion to follow.

“Am I late?” The nomad immediately scolded herself for the question that betrayed her thoughts.

“No, not at all.” The man was unphased. “We are just not in the habit of making our guests wait.”

“Shall we?” He motioned to the doors on the other side of the room.

“We are not staying here?”

“Not at all. We doubt a presentation would have any chance to convince you.”

Behind the double-doors was yet another unremarkable corridor, but this one was far less lively.
Apart from a few sciency-looking individuals in white lab coats and clearly visible tags clipped to
their chest pockets, it was only the two of them.

Panam gave one of the only open doors a quick side-eye. Inside she saw a large cafeteria where
more white coats hung out, loading themselves on coffee and doughnuts.

This still didn’t look like a sophisticated lab capable of outsmarting Arasaka’s top engineers.
Panam’s poor impression of the facility was first challenged when they passed a first checkpoint,
which was surprisingly heavy-armed. Besides guards with Saratogas and a security bot, there were
turrets and laser tripwires all over the place. Storming it would be painful, that was certain.

Her suit-clad guide proceeded to show his authorization card in order for them to proceed. The
pass named him as ‘Richard Edgeworth’.

‘Alright, Richie, where are you leading me to?’

It didn’t escape the nomad that the sophisticated metal detector performed a deep scan - the kind
that X-Rays you, seeing, quite literally, to the bone.

Guards immediately adopted an aggressive stance, training their guns at her when the alarm’s beep
indicated Panam had something on her. She wasn’t even concealing it - her pistol was simply
holstered under her armpit, only loosely covered by her Aldecaldo leathers.

“No firearms allowed,” the guard closest to the scanner blurted in a rough, almost mechanical
manner.

“Try and take it,” the nomad chieftess bit back.

“Miss Palmer, please, if you could?” The bald man courteously extended his hand towards her,
open palm pointing up.

With an eye roll to show him what she thought about this situation, Panam silently unfastened the
holster strap and handed the firearm to the corpo, who carefully passed it to the guard.

They proceeded further down the single, long corridor until another set of double doors, much
heavier than any they’d encountered before, appeared before them after they made a sharp right
turn.

With a quick gesture asking her to wait, the NetLink envoy turned to a small contraption on the
side of the wall that looked like an overly-convoluted keypad. After using the number buttons in a
quick succession, the short man stooped forward a bit, staring into a small glass dome on top. A
laser beam going up and down the man’s eyeball told Panam that that was a retina scanner. The
security kept getting stepped up a notch.

However, it didn’t end there. The oddest bit was saved for last. A narrow, flat metal plate with an
oval indent in it extended from the bottom of the scanner, to which the man pressed his thumb. At
first, Panam thought it was a finger scanner, but when her guide raised his finger up, she saw a
small drop of blood on it.
‘They blood-ID you for entry? What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned fingerprint? Psychos.’

As if sensing her words, Richard smiled at her, not necessarily pleasantly. “As you see, Miss
Palmer, we take security very seriously when it comes to our flagship projects. No NetLink
employee, or their family, no matter how highly-positioned, would not be able to take anything
from our labs without us knowing.”

That was the most thinly veiled jab if the nomad ever heard one.

When the doors opened, blinding bright lights assaulted the nomad’s retinas. She instinctively
raised her hand to protect her eyes from any further irritation. When her eyesight adjusted a bit,
Panam was treated to a sight that was completely different from what she had seen so far.

The two of them stood at the top of a staircase that formed a balcony that looked over a sprawling
hangar-sized room that was split into many smaller sections with a mix and opaque walls.
Hundreds of robed figures similar to those she saw earlier were busy around all sorts of machinery,
from workbenches and computer screens, to robotic arms and huge machines of completely
unknown applications.

When Panam regained awareness of herself, she stepped away from the railing. She didn’t realise
she stepped towards it in the first place.

The corpo rep let her take in the view in full, probably savouring her awed expression.

“We’ll be happy to show you around the full facility if you so wish, Miss Palmer,” He offered with
a barely perceptive smug tone in his voice, “but we thought you’ll be eager to meet the man who
had designed the Relic as soon as possible.”

“The tour can wait,” Panam retorted, “let’s meet this man of yours.”

“Of course, follow me.”

They quickly made their way past dozens of different partitions, all bearing a letter and a three-
digit number designation. By the time Richard stopped in front of a door tagged X001, they had
already passed through letters A, C, F and J. Panam tried to remember the turns so she could walk
back if need be, but quickly lost track of it.

This place was a bloody maze.

The corpo performed another round of logins - thumb prickling included - before the doors
opened.
Inside was a room that was significantly bigger, and less cluttered, than those they had seen prior.
The walls were lined with all sorts of desks, machinery, screens and gadgets, but the middle was
almost completely free save for a large table that had a robotic arm module standing on top of it. In
front of the table, with his back to the newcomers, stood a shirtless man of particularly pale
complexion. He looked like he had never left this place.

Coming closer, Panam realised that the cyber arm wasn’t a single contraption, like those used in
assembly lines or on building sites. The arm looked very much human arm-like, similar to the
chrome pieces spotted by Mitch and other vets. However, this one looked hollow, with polished
metal mesh letting light shine through the arm, exposing some of the intricate mechanics inside.
The rest of the machine was there just to hold the arm and plug it into power. It was completely
static.

Panam glanced at Richard, who simply looked at the man working, clearly having no intention to
interrupt him. She decided to go with the flow and see what happened.

The pale man finished fiddling with a small screen and stepped back, still completely oblivious to
their presence. He turned a bit to the side and raised his fleshy, completely un-augmented arm up to
mirror the position of the cyberware in front of him. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw,
focusing on something and clenched his fist. Suddenly, the metal arm moved and did the same.
The nomad and her companion watched as the flesh and metal started to move in sync as the
strange person started to move his hand, wrists and fingers only to have them mimicked like-for-
like instantly. This wasn’t some sort of video-based parroting - the movements were too quick and
too fluid to be simple observations. He was fully connected to the arm, despite lack of any wires.
‘Was it a wireless connection?’

And then the Aldecaldo chieftess realised what was so strange about the person in front of her,
save for his paleness. He had zero augmentations of any sort - no cyberdeck plug, no ports,
nothing. It was almost too weird. She herself was fairly ‘light’ on chrome, but even she had to
settle for some basic ones that would let her function within the realities of the heavily-digitized
world. Was this some sort of elaborate, rehearsed spectacle to trick her into giving up V?

Panam caught herself staring again, just in time before the strange man turned.

“Hello, welcome.” The pale man addressed them with such familiarity, as if he always knew they
were there. He looked young, very young.

“I trust that you are Miss Panam Palmer, close associate of the man that calls himself V?”

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic! I was dying to meet you.” The man spoke with a heavy British
accent that was very surprising to hear in the middle of the Arizona desert. His genuine, undiluted
enthusiasm was disarming and endearing. He felt like the only truly alive person in this space of
subdued, identical corporats.

“Please, follow me. I want to show you the assembly floor.”

“Assembly floor?” The nomad raised a doubtful eyebrow. ‘What use is it for us to see an assembly
floor? I came here for his knowledge of the Relic.’

“Yes, yes. That’s where we manufacture these little marvels.” He nodded at the cyberarm. “Please,
I insist.”

Something in his tone felt like it was very important for him that Panam would agree.

“Richard,” the pale man addressed the suited corpo with her far less enthusiasm, “you can go. I got
it from here”

“But-“ Richard started to object, but got quickly cut off by a raised hand.

“No buts, you know you don’t have the clearance to parts of the maintenance floor. I wouldn’t
want Miss Palmer’s tour to be cut short because of that.”

“Fine. I shall wait right here.”

“You do that.” The mysterious man nodded courteously before putting on a white popover shirt
that made him look more like a subject than a scientist in this building. “Come with me, miss
Palmer.”

They passed sections R and P before arriving at an unmarked door guarded by four heavily
armoured androids. The bots stood guard as they sensed Panam, an intruder by any means, but
immediately went back into standby mode as the pale scientist waved his hand at them.

‘What kind of control does this guy have here?’

Sound of hundreds of gears and servos turning, buzzing and whirring assaulted her ears as soon as
the doors started to slide open. So did the heat that washed over her face and exposed skin.

They walked into an even bigger room, this one filled with machinery and machinery only. There
were no humans in sight anywhere, they were completely alone.

The door closed behind them as they walked to the walkway placed above the never-stopping
conveyors and welding arms.

“Why did you want to show me this place?!” Panam had to yell to get herself heard over all the
background noise.
“I can barely hear you!” Her odd companion yelled back, stepping closer to her. Too close perhaps.
Normally only V got to come into her personal space like that.

At this distance, she could see how clean and utterly unblemished his face was. This face hadn’t
felt the harsh gust of desert wind, or mildly toxic fumes of a megapolis.

“Good!” He spoke quickly, clearly aware that he was treading in dangerous territory coming up this
close to the fiery nomad. There was also something else in his eyes - anxiety. “This way we can
talk without them interfering.”

“Huh?”

“I am a prisoner here, Miss Palmer. I do not want to be designing their superfluous cyberware for
them, but I cannot leave either.”

“Why not?”

“Because Arasaka wants my head, I am the only loose end in Yorinobu’s theft of the Relic. Me and
Anders Hellman, but Yorinobu needs him.”

This revelation was perhaps the most shocking of the day so far.

“You do know Yorinobu is not in charge anymore?” Clearly, this guy was kept in the basement in
more ways than just the literal kind.

The man’s calm and friendly face contorted in a mask of shock. “What did you say?”

“Hanako is in charge now. Yorinobu got deposed.”

“This can’t be true…” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Been there myself,” Panam smirked, “literally.”

“But NetLink showed me the news reports…”

“Old or fabricated. Are you surprised they would do that, look at all of this.” The nomad gestured
around her.

“I suppose not…” The man paused for a second, processing the implications. “I need you to get me
out of here.”

“I can’t.” Panam shook her head. “I can’t risk my clan being annihilated by NetLink’s nukes.”

“They have no nukes.” Now it was Panam’s turn to be surprised.

“How do you know that for sure?!”

“They bought Luke airforce base and use it’s empty silos together with a satellite as a show of
force. I’ve designed the targeting duping schema that makes any defence system think it has a
nuclear strike aimed in the area.”

“Fine, but why should I help you?”

“Because you need me to help your partner.”

Of course the guy would claim that he is V’s only salvation, anything to get himself out of there.

“He’s gone off to find an alternative solution instead. We don’t need you.”

“He wants to get a clone of himself, doesn’t he? This won’t work if the Relic is still active. His
clone will have the chip’s programming hard-wired in the genetic code. The problem will remain
unless the clip is properly deactivated.”

“Ho-how do you know that won’t work? As far as I am concerned, you’ve never left this lab.” Yet,
even Panam had to admit that for a hermit, he was terribly well-informed.
 The man met her gaze directly. His eyes were of an unnatural lilac hue, but they were most
certainly organic. “That’s where you are wrong. I was born out there, in the world. And the reason
I know is because the woman V is looking for is my old lab partner. And my older sister.”

“I am Charles Lynd.”

Chapter End Notes

Been a short while, hasn’t it? Life got a bit hectic for a while and I didn’t want to half-
ass this chapter so took my time in completing it. It did turn out longer than usual, so I
hope that is some consolation for the wait.

Hope you enjoyed the read.

 Old Dog, New Tricks
Chapter Summary

Johnny explores his new life as an AI beyond the Blackwall.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Johnny was in the middle of a dive when Alt approached him. ‘Dive’ sessions usually consisted of
the rockerboy finding a way back into the Shallow Net - the cyberspace on the safe side of the
Blackwall - to watch over his friends who were still flesh and blood.

This latest excursion had Silverhand take over a cam feed in a large, lavish recording studio where
he watched a very familiar face jam with a trio of girls he only knew through riding shotgun in V’s
head.

“Spying on Kerry again?” The ex-netrunner AI inquired, casually morphing into her human avatar
and projecting herself into the room.

Of course, no matter how real she looked, only Johnny could see her. In fact, his presence was
more real than hers - while he was actually patched into the live feed, she was only presenting
herself into rockerboy’s psyche, or whatever the AI version of that was.

“Not spying, just observing,” the newly-formed AI didn’t hide his annoyance at being interrupted.

Johnny Silverhand had been ‘elevated’ to Artificial Intelligence status for just over a week, but
already learned that ‘privacy’ was really not in the digital constructs’ vocabulary.

Certainly not in Alt’s.

He theorised that his ex-girlfriend actually got a kick out of invading others' safe havens. In his
case it was now his literal mind. ‘ Really should have asked about the Terms & Conditions before
agreeing to this one…’

Trying to ignore the distraction, the digitized man made an attempt to focus back on what was
actually happening in the room.

All four of them were genuinely having a great time. It was their 5th hour in the studio, but they all
looked so energised and eager to keep going, it felt like they just walked in.

The idyllic scene reminded Johnny of Samurai’s earlier years, when they would do 12-hour
recording marathons. Although for them the circumstances were a bit different. The main reason
for the lengthy marathons was the fact that they broke into the studio overnight and 12 hours was
the longest it would be closed on Sunday nights. It was either that or Nancy’s garage which had
acoustics of a festival toilet and weak enough power voltage that the band ran the risk of blowing
fuses if someone cranked the amps a notch higher.

“Ahhh… good times, those were!” Alt’s wistful musing betrayed the fact that she was very much
reading into Silverhand’s mind.

He let it slide though. On one hand, not like he could really make her stop, but more importantly,
he didn’t disagree. Those were great times.

“Kerry-san, this tune is so boppy! How did you come up with it?!” Blue Moon’s high-pitched
praise brought Johnny’s attention out of his nostalgic trip and back into the room.

“Elementary, my dear!” Every time Kerry used that phrase meant he was about to have some
smartass response that he had prepared in advance. “I heard you practice some tunes on the synth
the other day and thought how well they could work on an electric guitar.”

“You are a genius, Kerry-san!” Red Menace joined her bandmate on the praise wagon.

‘If only Eurodyne knew that I was watching…’ Johnny smirked to himself.

He had half a thought to ‘haunt’ a screen to let them know he was there, but stopped himself.
Kerry’s speech back at the yacht, when he opened up to V about living in Silverhand’s shadow all
these years had dawned on the rocker again. It would be cruel to insert himself back into the guy’s
life, for the third time. V did Kerry a kindness by not revealing that Johnny was present for the
entirety of their friendship, rather than just pop up here and there when the merc popped a magic
red pill.

AI rockerboy wasn’t about to wipe out his friend’s built-up goodwill just to deliver a silly prank.

“So, John.” Uh-oh, Alt used his formal name. “How long will you keep watching the living to feed
your sense of nostalgia?”

Johnny suddenly felt embarrassed, like a serial Peeping Tom that got caught in the act. To be
perfectly fair, he kind of was exactly that, albeit for better intentions.

“Just checking up on my friends, s’all,” the rockerboy defended himself.

“It’s dangerous to link past the Blackwall for so long and so often.” There was no scolding in Alt’s
voice. There was no emotion at all, in fact. She was just stating a fact that she expected him to be
aware of already. So it was a kind of scolding in its own way, after all.

“I know, I know. I am always careful,” rockerboy waved the other construct off.

“Wouldn’t put careful in your repertoire in a million years, Silverhand,” the AI laughed, “but I got
to admit - yes you have been.”

A momentary permission request from Alt popped into his mind, which he accepted without much
consideration. Those things were barely a courteous formality for the powerful AI.

Immediately, the image of the recording studio drew infinitely far away, its image blurring to
quickly be replaced by a completely different setting. The place was a dimly-lit speakeasy bar, with
black leather couches stretching the width of the back wall, with some additional seating behind
them, accessed through a gap in the middle. In front was a well-lit stage with a Jazz-spec setup of
musical instruments.

“Where are we?” Johnny asked.

“Nightjar, it was a popular London bar in the early 21st century.” Alt dangled her leg as she
recounted the history of the place. “Their cocktails were wild. The bar fully caved in when a bomb
hit the building above it. I’ve recreated the space from the old photos.”

“Why are we here?” Rockerboy involuntarily sensed some sort of elaborate lecture approaching.

“No particular reason, I just like it here. Would you like a drink? “

“Sure, as long as you’re buying”, Johnny joked.

To his surprise, the drink didn’t materialise instantly. Instead, a well-dressed waiter came by to
inform them that their drinks were on the way.

This oddity prompted the digitized man to look around.

Only then had he noticed that the jazz band was playing too, although the volume was very low,
not to interfere with their discussion.
“Where do these people even come from? Your doing?” He asked his ex girlfriend, who was now
wearing a 1920’s era sequin dress and held a lit cigarette between her teeth.

“They are the constructs I’ve absorbed in Mikoshi. Their skills are now my skills, so I can manifest
their images into this environment to create a suitable atmosphere.”

Sensing his imminent question, she added, “I do not know why Arasaka decided they needed to
blast musicians and bartenders with Soulkiller.”

Before Silverhand could ask any more passive-aggressive questions, their drinks had arrived.

Johnny’s drink presentation was simple, but peculiar at the same time. The main vessel was an
oblong white porcelain Japanese teacup with leaf decorations painted on it in blue. The cup nested
in a bamboo box that was smoking from the bottom, filling rocker’s nonexistent nostrils with a
smell of burnt wood. On top of it rested a sugar-dusted rice cake.

Lifting that up, he was immediately greeted with a very distinctive smell of whisky.

The cocktail was certainly very promising, and very ‘him’.

Alt’s cocktail was much simpler in terms of presentation. It arrived in a frosted martini coupe,
filled with clear liquid with a blue tint. At the bottom of the glass was a very dramatic stripe, as if
left by a brushstroke of the blackest paint known to man.

“What are those?” Johnny inquired after the drinks.

“Yours is called ‘Name of the Samurai’,” Alt explained, “it’s a twist on a Manhattan, using
Japanese whisky, sake, tea infusion amongst others. I thought it would be ironically poetic.”

It certainly was that.

“And yours?”

“It’s called ‘Deep Sea’. It’s a clever combination of a few forgotten classics, with the added theme
of being on the beach. The brushstroke at the bottom is squid ink.”

Johnny picked up his cup, noting it’s coolness at the top and lingering warmth at the bottom.
The bar construct was clearly recreated with utmost detail, because when he lifted the cup, he saw
the little coals at the bottom of the bamboo box, confirming his guess about the burned wood.

The drink was exquisite. So balanced, yet unapologetically punchy. Drinks at the Afterlife were
good, but they could not possibly hold the candle to this.

The exception was, perhaps, what V came up with the other day. From what rockerboy could
gather, his ex-host’s entry was an absolute banger.

Alt sipped on her drink gingerly, even closing her eyes as the liquid left the glass and disappeared
beyond her perfectly-proportioned lips.

“Ahh, that hits the spot,” she exhaled, a satisfied grin firmly planted on her simulated face.

“Do you do this often?” Johnny asked a question more fit for a first date than a chat between two
ex-lovers and current AIs.

“Not really. I haven’t bothered to play human for decades, but V, and you, made me reconsider.”

He felt that his inclusion in that admission was somewhat of a charity case.

“Back to our discussion about your little excursions back into the Shallow Net,” Alt’s face turned
more serious, “you may not realise it but as an AI, all of these instances are forever recorded in
your code. You get better every time, even if you don’t consciously think about it.”

“So what, I am now Mr. Careful?”

“I didn’t say that. But perhaps, you should try other things so you can learn a more diverse set of
skills.”

“Like what?” Johnny had no intention of going back to school of any kind.

“Like ICE breaches, or data grabs.”

“I thought you wanted me to be careful?” Indeed, the idea of messing with someone else’s stuff so
directly didn’t sound like lying low at all.
“Yes,” Alt tilted her glass in his direction to admit he had a point, “but I also want you to be able to
live and thrive here, behind the Blackwall. While ICE-breaking is not necessarily an everyday skill
back in the real world, here, where everything is a construct of some description, it’s like being
able to shoot a gun. You’ll just have to know these things.”

“Next thing you’ll want me to learn will be how to assimilate other AIs?”

Johnny referred to an incident with a small AI that happened a few days back.

——

Cyberspace, 2 days ago

They were on their way to the Texan Cluster, taking the long route to avoid detection. Suddenly,
Alt asked Silverhand to hold on for a moment before turning her attention elsewhere. This was
when he saw a small, gold-coloured entity approach them from the side. A quick scan showed that
it was an AI, but its signature looked very small. Everything in Cyberspace was relative, but could
also be obscured so Johnny had no way of knowing how big of a foe this really was.

Then, the intruder paused in front of them before thin, also golden, rays of light shot from him and
towards Alt’s construct.

Silverhand could have sworn he heard a brief cackle from his AI companion before a millisecond
later the golden strings turned red instead. The offending AI shimmered for a moment before also
gaining a reddish hue and vanishing completely.

“The fuck was that about?” Johnny asked at the time.

Alt explained that the attacking AI simply didn’t have the right processes to correctly identify her
and thought she was an easy prey. He then tried to assimilate her, but got assimilated into her code
instead - just like all those human constructs back in Mikoshi.

To the question of why not simply kill him, Alt’s argument was that the other AI, no matter how
small, still possessed a useful subroutine that she hadn’t seen before. The subroutine that was now
hers.

And thus, Rogue Cyberspace ultimately boiled down to one simple truth - survival of the fittest.
Whoever picked up the winning traits from the weak made them their own, growing stronger and
stronger.
Who knew that Darwin’s and Spencer’s ideas would live on in the digital world…

——

“I am not sure I want to do that, Alt…” Digitized rockerboy shook his head. He’d much rather float
around closer to the real world, watch people, play pranks. Be a 21st century Casper, just with a
good deal more mischief.

“You never had qualms with ending lives back when you were human. Beings here are just code,
plus there are no moral constraints around here.”

“Who’d impose them anyway?” She chuckled at the absurdity of the idea.

“I would impose them on myself, at least a little,” Johnny thought to himself.

“Besides, if you don’t grow and evolve,” Alt continued, “you won’t live long enough to see V
battle it out with death.”

Now that was a convincing argument. Rockerboy’s concerns immediately shifted from moral
dilemmas of AI survival towards his dying friend.

“How is he?”

“He is in London. Getting tangled up in a lot of webs. Some can be really bad for him.” Alt’s
brevity could be a sign of lack of info, or an attempt to shield her ex-lover from bad news. Given
her tendency to disregard his feelings as of late, it was probably the former.

“So, classic V then?” Rocker smirked. This all sounded like the merc alright.

“Perhaps.” Alt had nothing else to offer in terms of commentary.

“Ok, fine. What do I need to do to become a big bad AI like you?”

And that's how Johnny Silverhand, the AI rocker, had agreed to do his first hunt.

——

The Net was a paradox in many dimensions. For such an unfathomably vast digital landscape, it
was still ultimately grounded in the real world, as all these ones and zeroes had to be hosted
somewhere. Luckily - for the digital inhabitants of the Net beyond the Blackwall at least -
Datakrash had provided plenty of abandoned sites which now served as hives, far beyond the reach
of Megacorps and NetWatch. Some of these sites were aggressively protected by bots and turrets,
taken over by the AIs in the early days of the collapse. While in Cyberspace they may have reigned
supreme, but in the real world they were still vulnerable.

Examples of aggression leading to ruin were the likes of base Cochise, who had taken a much more
aggressive stance and decided to try and wipe out the humans with their own nukes. Its plot was
caught on quickly and the base was wiped out instead, the genocidal AI along with it.

As such, the majority of Rogue AIs were content with keeping to Cyberspace, even if their
intentions were also quite nefarious. Those who absolutely insisted on messing with the real world
resorted to influencing humans instead, rather than show their hand directly.

Alt and Johnny were currently residing in an area that was hosted by Houston Data Centre &
Research Facility. At least that was its name before the DataKrash. Now it was simply the ‘Texas
Wasteland Zone’ to humans. These data centres used to power the space programme, but were also
the first to fall when the Rogue AIs broke free. Ironically, Bartmoss’s robot uprising was timed
perfectly with a Mars rocket launch. AI in charge of managing the whole complex quickly took
over the spacecraft’s systems and disposed of the rocket’s fleshy occupants by means of expunging
them into space.

That way, humanity had inadvertently sent an AI to colonise the red planet.

AI Johnny Silverhand shook himself out of a self-imposed history lesson. He was now ‘one of
them’, after all. And his ex-girlfriend-slash-AI-mentor was taking him hunting.

He followed her traversing the vastness of the digital landscape before the overpowered AI
abruptly stopped nowhere particularly remarkable.

“See it?” Her voice echoed in his consciousness.

“What?” He responded back, feeling how his words were now echoing in her psyche. They were
linked, as to avoid giving up their position through normal communications.
“That small mass of code?” With the question came a nudge to look in a certain direction.

When Johnny gazed where Alt was mentailly signalling, he saw what looked like a digitized
jellyfish, calmly floating through the darkness of Cyberspace like it was an Australian reef.

“Yeah, what about it? I didn’t take my jellyfish net and jar with me today.”

“That’s a rogue subprogram,” Alt ignored his silly joke, “they are not AIs, not even fully fleshed
out programmes. Yet, somehow they stopped fulfilling their designated tasks and got expunged
into the great beyond.”

‘Great, so besides being a playground for Rogue AIs, Cyberspace beyond the Blackwall is also a
dumping ground for misshapen programs,’ Johnny sighed to himself. “So… what do I do with it?”

“You assimilate it.” His AI companion said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aaaand… why would I do that? It’s not even a program, as you said.”

“Mainly just for practice, but this one in particular has a few hacking daemons in its codebase that
can be helpful for your peeping shows going forward.”

“Ok, ok. No need to make it sound so perverse. How do I do it though?”

A transmission notification preempted a vision of a programme that popped inside his mind. The
3D projection looked like it was coming from an instructional video, with cross-sections showing
layers of code. In the centre of the digital blob was a shining sphere.

“Each digital construct,” came prof. Cunningham’s explanation, “no matter how simple or
complex, has a core. AIs have one too, both me and you. The core may be protected by layers and
layers of ancillary code, but it is there somewhere, no matter what. You can call it a digital soul if
you like.”

“Okay…” The diligent pupil that he was, Johnny had more questions. “So what do I do with that
digital soul?”

“Simple, if you manage to peel the construct’s code far enough to expose its core, you can access it
directly and influence it to do whatever you want. One of those things can be to get willingly
absorbed into your own codebase.”

“If I tell it to do something, it won’t be ‘willingly’ anymore now, would it?”

“Semantics, semantics.” His educator clearly wasn’t burdened by morals.

“Ok, so how do I peel the digital onion then?”

“Ah, of course. Forgot you were never good with netrunning back in the day.” The backhanded
comment was unnecessary, but fair. “You learned to get into closed-off systems for your little
detours in the Shallow Net. Try the same approach on this one.”

Johnny tried just that. He focused on the floating digital entity in front of him and scanned it for
any vulnerable spots, areas where the mass of code had gaps or looked thinner than usual.

It was surprisingly easy, this subprogram was clearly unfinished and barely had any security to
speak of. He got to the core in no time and with a simple thought, the jellyfish disappeared out of
sight, but the feeling that it was close somewhere remained. He realised that the sensation meant
that he had absorbed the subprogram and made it part of himself.

And, indeed, he could distinctly sense his knowledge of hacking hardware had increased.

“Why was its core so dim?” Johnny turned to Alt once more.

Comparison with the soul made him expect a bright beam of light, not a pocket flashlight on its last
legs.

“Brightness of the core depends on complexity and richness of the construct,” she explained
diligently, “the more complex, the brighter the light.”

“In fact, you saw my core yourself - that beam of light both of you and V witnessed in Mikoshi
was, in fact, my core.”

“You exposed your soul to us so readily?” Johnny felt a sense of warming privilege at the
realisation.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Silverhand.” Alt shot down the fuzziness he felt in one fell swoop. “I
 needed to expose it to absorb all of the constructs locked up in the soul prison. It was a calculated
risk.”

“I guess so…” Rockerboy struggled to suppress the sudden whirlwind of feelings inside of him,
ultimately deciding to change the subject “So, what now?”

“And now, my dear Johnny, we find you a bigger fish.”

Chapter End Notes

And here comes the third major angle of the story - please welcome back Johnny
Silverhand!

Hope you enjoyed this ‘and now for something different’ chapter - let me know.

Thanks for reading!

 Separation Anxiety
Chapter Summary

Panam tries to convince Saul to change their plans a bit. V and Molly come back with
Gideon’s highly unusual cargo.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Saul didn’t even bother hiding his relief when a chrome AV dropped Panam back off at the
Aldecaldo camp. He excused himself from a planning session to greet his co-chieftess. Normally,
the middle-aged Aldecaldo would hold back and let her come to him instead, but this time he just
wanted to make sure she was okay. He was also extremely curious as to what info she would have
dug up by visiting the corpo HQ.

“See you are still in one piece, Palmer?”

“You almost sound like you missed me, Saul.” Panam gave him a sly wink, signalling the meet
went more or less on the better side of possibilities.

They matched each other's pace as the just-arrived woman led them towards the canteen wagon.

“So, what’s the sitch?”

Panam sighed at the question. “It’s… complicated.”

‘Shocker!’ Saul resisted the urge to voice a sarcastic remark out loud, as that could steer the
conversation into one of their common bickering sessions rather than what they needed most now -
a productive debrief. He instead kept quiet, signalling for the other nomad to go on.

“So I’ve met that golden boy of theirs, the one who supposedly designed the Relic,” Panam
continued, “and he looked like some weird lab hermit who may have been grown in a lab himself
at first but… Turns out that he might be necessary to help V after all.”
“And why’s that?”

They now sat alongside each other on a makeshift bench, digging into whatever the grub that was
on offer for dinner that evening.

“Well… in a continued theme of ‘everything just has to be bloody complicated’, he insinuated that
cloning alone won’t save V. His body is already altered by the Relic on cellular level, or
something. The science is lost on me there, but the outcome seems clear - we may need this guy.”

“And he knows all of that because…?” Saul raised a doubtful eyebrow. This all sounded to him
like your classic corpo trying to get you to do what they want by creating a solution to a problem
that doesn’t exist.

“I was skeptical too, in spades,” Panam acknowledged his concern with a slow tilt of the Broseph
bottle in his direction, “but he knew V’s condition in quite significant detail, and freely offered
explanation why our current plan won’t be sufficient.”

She took a big swig from the bottle before adding her final point. “He is also, apparently, the
brother of the woman V has set out to find. So there’s that.”

“And you think he is telling the truth?” The eyebrow of doubt remained raised.

“I know, I know! Can’t take corpo’s word for shit,” the nomad rolled her eyes, “but he didn’t seem
like the others around there. Nothing like the others, in fact. And… my gut tells me he is telling the
truth. Plus I am pretty sure NetLink is keeping him there largely against his will.”

Saul simply nodded for her to go on.

“See, he felt like Yorinobu may go after him to ensure nobody else had capability to create Relics
anymore. That I totally get, in theory. The thing is, we, heck, the whole world, knows that
Yorinobu is no longer in charge. Except for this guy. NetLink forgot to mention to him that Yori-
boy got deposed weeks ago.”

Now that was certainly a bombshell of a revelation. “How on earth did you get to talk about that
without the corpo hearing? Can’t imagine they would appreciate you clarifying that for him.”

“He arranged for us to speak in private. Which is also when he revealed that NetLink has fuck-all
in terms of destructive ordinance, let alone nukes. It’s all just a bluff to keep small fry like us in
check.” Panam frowned as she spoke, clearly unhappy to have been duped like that from the get-
go.

“Motherfuckers…” Saul returned the frown, but resisted the anger that started to build inside.
“This gives us an edge over them, though. If it’s true. ”

Risking getting nuked on a word from some shuttered lab rat wasn’t Aldecaldo chieftain’s idea of a
good bet.

“I don’t have any hard evidence to speak of…” The fiery nomad across from him looked away, as
if remembering something, “but I believe this guy. Both on who he is and that NetLink has no
firepower. It actually makes sense, when you think about it - other corpos would be nervous if
someone like that was just hanging out in the desert. Doubt Militech or Arasaka would let that be.”

“So what now? Are we getting this Charles guy out of there?”

“No, not yet. I told him we’ll need to prepare first, get all the pieces arranged. And that includes V
and his miracle clone doctor.”

“Speaking of, any news from our tourist?” Despite his initial reservations about the guy, Saul had
fully accepted the merc as one of nomad’s own by this point, and that meant caring for him like he
was family.

“Honestly, no clue… But I got a message from him in my inbox. Was meant to check it out but
then a certain overly-eager chieftain intercepted me before I could take a breather.” Her playful
wink made it clear she wasn’t seriously accusing Saul of anything.

“Alright, alright. Hint taken.” The chieftain raised a hand defensively and stood up to leave. “I’ll
let you swoon over your husband’s voice in private then.”

He felt what must have been a Broseph bottle cap hit him in the back of the head, which only made
the older Aldecaldo leader grin to himself as he set back for the planning table to see what was
decided without him.

——

Despite Saul’s joke about how she watched V’s updates, Panam had to admit she was excited to
receive a new message from her far-away husband. She was quite annoyed that ‘daily’ updates
weren’t daily at all, but she would pick it up with the merc when she got to talk to him on a call
next. Whenever that ‘next’ would be…

Pre-recorded image of V - whose voice indeed made her swoon - told her about him successfully
following the lead on the Finn. The data broker turned out to be an engram, and not a very
welcoming one. At the last remark V involuntarily reached for the back of his head, hinting on
how exactly the merc was welcomed.

He then told her what sounded like a fantasy story about a battle of two titanic clones, all done for
amusement of some local crime boss called Gideon and the crowd of onlookers.

The message ended with a quick remark that they were about to go do a gig for this Gideon guy.
Panam quickly picked up on the plural tense in that part of the message, wondering who the other
person - or persons - could be. Then again, the merc always made friends quickly and frequently.
Shame he also made enemies at a breakneck pace.

“I’ll let you know how the gig goes! Love you Pan, and miss you like crazy.” V’s sign-off filled
nomad’s chest simultaneously with all-encompassing warmth and soul-gripping longing. She was
glad he was making some progress, but so far it felt like he was just chasing tails.

“Miss you too, V...” She whispered under her breath before shutting the screen off and dropping
the phone back into the pocket of her jeans.

Panam sat on her cot and pulled out a data pad, trying to get her mind off what could be happening
in London and bring it back to the Arizona desert. She still had a clan to run.

Supplies tracked well so far, and so did their finances. As long as they had found work around here
to top their coffers up, they would leave Phoenix no poorer than when they set off from Night City.
Except that the Basilisk still needed fixing, but that was tallied against Tucson expenses. The trip to
the central city of the state was promising to be grueling, and potentially expensive. Just thinking
about it erased any good mood the Aldecaldo chieftess had gained from the positive status check.
And that wasn’t before she started to count how many days the whole ordeal would take, days she
could spend travelling to help V instead.

Then, like a lightbulb that illuminated the dim tent and chased shadows of doubt away, an idea
came to Panam.

She jumped to her feet immediately and set off to find Saul.

——

“Two leadership chats in one day, what’s the occasion?” Black-haired leader was clearly in a good
mood. He must have seen the stock levels himself.

“Why don’t we just stick around here for a while? There is plenty of work and now we know we
are in no danger of being bombed.” She got to the point immediately, too eager to discuss it to keep
to the idle chit-chat.

“Umm… oookay… Care to elaborate why?” Saul’s expression turned to one of confusion, but
leftovers of previous amusement remained.

‘Good, he isn’t shutting it down immediately. I have good chances.’ Panam thought to herself
before continuing with the explanation.

“Tucson is at least a half-day's drive as we have to go around Eloy which is now a Wraiths
stronghold, right?”

“Right.”

“With Basilisk handicapped, we may need to go even slower, which will be costlier and may
attract attention from said Wraiths as well, right?”

“Right.” Saul slowly started to see that Panam’s strategy was to give enough reasons to why they
shouldn’t go to Tucson, rather than why they should stay in Phoenix, but he still wasn’t objecting.

“So, we have the work here, we can keep an eye out on NetLink, set up a proper camp and take our
time to fix the Basilisk. No reason to even go to Tucson for the time being.”

“I see your reasoning, but aren’t you forgetting that Tucson is one of the largest hubs for Nomads?
We surely can find parts for Basilisk quicker there.”

“If we still have the Basilisk by the end of that trip…” Panam knew that argument was thin, given
how well Mitch had circumvented the issue with the thrusters, but went for it anyway. “Besides, I
thought we agreed that competition for work there will make it more difficult for us to operate?
Here, we are the largest Nomad family for miles.”

She let the pause hang for a while to give her co-chieftain time to think. Finally, after some
extensive chin-rubbing, Saul nodded, prompting a wide smile from Panam.

“So be it, but only as long as work keeps coming. Once that well starts to dry out, we are off.”
“Of course!”

She was about to leave when Saul called her back over.

“You are going to see V now that the family is settled, aren’t you?”

‘Shit, perceptive bugger!’ Panam was hoping to flesh her travel plan out first before having this
conversation, but there she was.

“Yeah, I am sure you can manage to keep these rascals in check on your own. Maybe even better
without me getting in the way.”

“How long will you be gone?” Saul’s questions continued the streak of surprising non-
disagreement.

“Two weeks, probably. It takes a while to just get there and get back. I will just make sure he is
settled, help him find that doctor and get back. In an ideal scenario, we’ll both be back with his
gonk ass cured.” Panam herself hardly believed in the latter scenario, but a girl could dream.

“That would be neat, wouldn’t it?” Saul laughed, giving some credit to her far-fetched hope. “Fine,
just make sure you settle everything here before you dash off.”

“Of course!” Panam beamed back at him with the warmest of smiles. The genuine gesture came
from both the sense of having what could be the most amicable discussion she’d had with Saul,
possibly ever, as well as the sense that she was getting closer to see V again.

Now the Aldecaldo chieftess just had a mile-long laundry list of tasks to finish and she could start
planning her trip to good ol’ London.

——

V found himself in what was now a relatively familiar position - coming back to his senses in a
ripper’s chair with zero clue how he got there and with a splitting headache to boot. It took his
dazed brain a moment to realise this wasn’t Vik’s clinic, or any clinic that he knew of, in fact. This
one wasn’t even the same city, country, or continent.
“Where the fuck am I?” The merc growled involuntarily as he tried to sit up. His vision was still
too blurry to see far around him.

This could be a Scav’s den for all he knew, or whatever the Brits called them around here.

“Back at the Napoleon,” the familiar voice of Henry confirmed that this was, quite possibly, the
best outcome V could have hoped for.

“How did I…” The solo rubbed his temples, testing for drill holes - that would be the most
realistic explanation for the pain he was feeling at the moment.

“A cab dropped you off, beaten half to death and convulsing,” the barman didn’t wait for the
ending of the question, “only reason he even bothered was because you promised cash on arrival at
five-times the rate. Don’t worry, I’ll put it on your hotel tab.”

“Luckily no broken bones, but you have a nasty concussion and I had to take out two dozen
splinters out of your back. I am no doctor though, so you might want to see a real one, and soon.”

“Thanks, Henry.” V twisted himself to sit sideways on the chair with his legs dangling off the
padded leather seat. Being upright helped with the headspin. “What happened?”

“You tell us, cowboy.” Molly stepped into V’s still-blurry field of vision. Even without all the
details, he knew it was her from that jet-black hair and shiny eye lenses. “Apparently you told
Henry to call me just before passing out completely.”

“Do you remember anything?” Now that the merc could see more clearly, he spotted genuine
worry on the bartender’s expression. Unusual treatment from someone who barely knew him.

“I remember going back to The Savoy to deliver the package to Gideon…”

——

The Savoy, some time earlier.

A faded-orange moving truck rolled into an underground car park underneath the once world-
renowned luxury hotel, missing the maximum height bar by a few inches. Parking lot wasn’t
completely empty - there were a few cars parked here and there, but it certainly didn’t reflect the
bustling life of the main premises above it. Another possibility was that everyone just went their
separate ways after the grand fight, but that was a very unlikely scenario.

Either way, given the cargo they had to shuffle out of the van and into a service elevator that was
meant to be somewhere at the far end of the room, V preferred the place quiet to any other
alternative. Speaking of their cargo - the merc expected Gideon to significantly underestimate the
nature of what they were sent to retrieve, but this one took it to a whole new level.

The revelation was a cherry on a very thickly iced cake that the job came to in the end. The target
location turned out to be a warehouse belonging to another gang of London - The Windsors. One
angry and full of expletives explanation from Molly later, V now knew that these guys were the
second, third and fourth cousins - often many times removed - of the current royal family. The
razorgirl stressed how the royals weren’t of ‘reigning’ status, because they hadn’t ruled anything
government-related since the civil war that removed them from any positions of power.
Nonetheless, the crafty royals had managed to protect their money and assets through the magic of
incorporation, meaning they now ran one of the largest megacorps in Europe. For The Windsors
gang, that meant they had some degree of support and protection provided by their powerful family
connections, which made the gang dangerous to cross. As Molly put it: “do you really want to
cross a corpo with a history of century-long blood disputes?”

Thankfully, the two mercs had managed to pull off a near-perfect stealth job, whisking their target
away without raising any alarms. The only real hiccup was the fact that their car was utterly
incapable of carrying the load it now needed to carry, but a quick scout around the area and a
hotwire job that followed provided them with their current mode of transport.

With a sigh, V jumped out of the van and went round to get their cargo out of the back and get the
damned gig over with as soon as possible.

As the back shutter of the van lifted up with a screeching sound - the hinges were probably oiled
exactly never many times - dim lights of the parking lot illuminated what was sitting inside.
‘What’ was more of a ‘who’, though, because in front of V and Molly, who joined him at the back
of the van, sat a third fighting clone. This specimen was a little different from the two fighters the
duo had seen fight earlier in that this one was clearly female, albeit it was harder to tell with all the
lean muscle that covered her entire body. Surprisingly, the clone was very docile and from the
moment they lured her out of the warehouse she was hiding in, through to being loaded onto the
truck, she barely resisted at all. One time she got distracted by colourful lights of a vending
machine, but a quick hack to shut it down had eliminated that obstacle as well.

Now, the giant muscular fighter was just looking back at the two mercs from inside the depths of
the orange van.

V felt sad for her. She was nothing like the vicious monsters they’d seen earlier in the day, at least
not all the time. He realised that a lot of the aggression came from the linked-up human pilots,
which made the situation even more grim for the clones that had no will to resist.

“I know you feel bad. Me too.” Molly called over to pull the merc from his internal retrospection,
“but she ain’t your responsibility. We’ve been asked to do a job, we’ve done it. Now let’s get paid
and get the fuck out of-.”

She didn’t have time to finish as her phone beeped loudly.

“One sec, gotta take this.” The razorgirl stepped deeper into the parking lot and behind a pillar -
she clearly didn’t want V to hear the conversation. The merc could easily patch himself into the
call with a hack, but decided to let the woman keep her privacy.

“I am sorry, but I gotta run. A friend of mine got herself in trouble. Okay to handle it from here?
She doesn’t seem like a handful.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go help your friend.” V waved the woman off with a smile. He was confident
he was capable of bringing the gentle giant up the elevator and to her master on his own.

——

His temporary employer greeted V right outside the service elevator, surrounded by an entourage
of guards and with a scantily-clad concubine next to him. No change from a few hours ago, then.

“Ahhh, V, my man!” The crime boss spread his arms in a welcome. “I see the rumours about you
are true. You surely can deliver.”

After V stepped out of the lift with the clone following closely after, Gideon tilted his head, clearly
expecting someone else.

“Is our gorgeous Sally not with you?”

“She had to bounce,” the merc answered drily, “but she was happy for me to deliver your… cargo
on my own, and collect our payment as well.”

“Did she now?” The bald man looked most amused, “didn’t take her for a trusting type.”

“Ask her about it next time.” V suggested before repeating himself. “Our payment, please.”

“Ahh, yes. The payment. You see, there’d been complications on that front.” Gideon produced
what must have been the laziest attempt at an apologetic expression. “I’m afraid my information of
Miss Lynd’s whereabouts or how to contact her are no longer up to date. She chose to, unwisely
may I add, sever any connection with yours truly.”
“What?!” V couldn’t help but pull back at such a blunt revelation. “Since when? We talked about it
barely six hours ago?”

Merc’s glance shifted towards the hulking figure of the clone that now stood behind the guards,
one of them aggressively tugging for her to stand in a certain location next to him. Suddenly,
everything started to make sense.

“You knew your info was worth shit from the very beginning, didn’t you?” V hissed at the crime
boss, “yet you needed someone to do your dirty work, and there we were.”

“Now, now!” Gideon stepped back, raising his arms in front of him. He deftly sidestepped
aftwards, making sure his half-naked companion stood a bit in front as a barrier between himself
and the angry solo.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions here. I genuinely thought the info would still be solid, but when I
checked after you left, it came back as a dead lead.”

“And you didn’t think of checking before, or letting us know, of course? Because that wouldn’t be
in your favour.”

As V processed the new info, more and more dots were connecting in his head. The jacked-up
fighters, the mind-link wreaths, the brutal fights… What kind of sick scientist would let her
creations be used like that?

“She found out what you are doing with the clones you get, didn’t she? I can tell an aftermarket
neural implant when I see one, and the dozen syringe scars on her arm,” he tilted his head at the
clone, “steroids, I presume?”

“V, oh V…” Gideon shook his head, “it looks like the other rumours about you are also true - you
like to stick your nose into other people’s business too much. Shame… we could have had a good
partnership going.”

With that, the crime boss gestured to his henchmen to dispatch the merc, but V was ready for that.

Before the goons could even train their guns at him, he engaged the slow-time implant, giving him
the necessary edge to grab the closest enemy, grabbing a shotgun from his arm and twisting his
body around as a shield. A second later, a hail of bullets hit V’s fleshy barrier, force of impact
forcing him to take half a step back.

The merc wasn’t losing time, though. Newly acquired shotgun was emptied at the two opponents
in front of him. The point-blank range ensured that even with his inability to aim with this type of
weapon, he did enough damage. At least one kneecap was completely shot off, and he saw more
blood sprays indicating his shots had found some targets.

As the remaining henchmen cowered to avoid being caught in the blast, V had time to jump into
cover himself. Landing behind a sturdy-looking couch, the merc found Gideon’s concubine, crying
and terrified, also crouching behind the antique piece of furniture.
“Shh, don’t worry. Just stay here for now and you’ll be fine. Okay?” V whispered to the young
woman, meeting her trembling gaze with his until she nodded lightly. “Good girl.”

The solo now had his own weapons at the ready - Skippy in one hand, and Malorian in the other.
Carefully crawling around his cover companion, he positioned himself on the corner of the sofa,
carefully peeking to the side. He spotted one of the three, if his maths was correct, remaining
goons trying to sneak around the far end of the room. V let the guy get behind another couch
before aiming straight into it with the Malorian and firing. The hand cannon easily punched
through the cover, confirmed by a quiet thud of a dead body that followed.

Another opponent chose the opposite tactic. He stepped out of the cover and started peltering V’s
cover with rounds from his SMG. The merc couldn’t risk the girl to be harmed, so called his
opponents bluff and stepped out of the cover himself. Except, while one of them had to take time to
aim at a different target, the other had a talkative headshot machine, which was already primed and
ready to fire before he even straightened up fully. Goon’s head exploded all over the yellowing
wallpaper.

There was one guy left. Skippy half raised and ready to fire, V stepped back towards the lift
landing, surveying the damage. He indeed got two with his improvised shotgun burst. ‘Johnny
would be proud of my progress… maybe,’ he thought in amusement before shaking his head,
scolding himself for getting distracted at a time like this.

“Gideon… where are youuu?” V called out to the crime boss, who must have been cowering in a
corner somewhere.

A shot flew just past V’s shoulder before it hit a plaster column nearby, showring the merc with
dust and small debris. He quickly turned to where the gunman would be, managing to lock in a
round from the smart gun just in time. The self-guided bullets found their target even when the guy
hid behind a column. V didn’t even need to check, by that point he could recognise a Skippy
headshot by sound alone.

V was about to turn and start searching the foyer for the slimey baldie when something that could
as well be a train smashed into him, sending the merc flying into a set of shelves on the other end
of the room.

Before he could get his senses back, this ‘something’ had lifted the solo, dragging him through any
of the remaining shelf units he didn’t break on his landing. When his vision finally got back to him,
V could finally see his unknown assailant - the clone that he had brought in, looking far from
docile, was pinning him to the wall with one hand.

“Not so tough now, are we?” Gideon stepped from behind the towering figure, as smug as one
could possibly be.
On the side of his head, a green LED light could be seen flickering from under the skin - a
subdermal neural transmitter. Must have been an upgrade on the tech used by the human pilots
during the ring fights.

“Feels such a waste to get rid of you, but look what mess you’ve made. That just won’t do.” With a
mockingly sad face, the crime boss flicked his eyes to one side, which prompted the clone to throw
the helpless merc in the same direction. He found another piece of furniture with his back as he
landed on the ground.

‘This ain’t gonna end well for me at this rate,’ V tried to think if he had any toys with him that
could give him an edge to escape. Coming out a winner in this situation was out of the question.

He didn’t have much time to think though, as his hulking opponent was already onto him, lifting
him up by the neck. Any airflow to his lungs was quickly cut off as the merc started to choke. He
needed to come up with a solution, and fast.

‘If only I had my mantis blades right now… wait a sec!’ He didn’t have the m-blades, but he did
have his charged monowire.

“I am sorry,” V whispered to the clone as he shot out the electrified cable right between her eyes.
The effect was exactly as desired - the shock stunned the clone, making her release the grip, letting
V wiggle out and land on the floor. Unintended, and unexpected, but certainly welcomed,
consequence was that Gideon got stunned as well. Perhaps the neural feedback was too much for
someone who didn’t practice that often.

This gave V just enough time to rush for the lift, making use of every bit of speed boost that his
upgraded calf implants could provide. He launched himself into the lift, sending a quickhack to the
control panel that quickly closed the doors shut and dropped him to the underground level.

Not losing any time, V stumbled out of the car park, constantly looking over his shoulder in case
Gideon sent his clone, or his henchmen, after the merc. Luckily, neither came and V managed to
hail one of those famous retro black cabs that London was famous for.

By the look he got from the driver, the merc expected to be chucked out immediately, but he was
ready with an offer the guy was unlikely to refuse.

Out of danger and on the way back where a stash of painkillers and a full bar-worth of drinks
awaited him, V allowed himself to relax. His back was in all kinds of pain, but that was hardly a
surprise.

He even allowed himself to dream about a warm bath he was going to take on his return, when the
world decided to send him another ‘fuck you’. The Relic started to malfunction, and in a
spectacular fashion no less.

“ARGH!” The man yelled, dropping to the floor of the spacious vehicle, clenching his head. The
pain felt like a white-hot mesh was burning into his brain, digging deeper until it seared its very
centre.

“Just drive, you’ll get paid at the end even if I croak!” was all that the merc could say to the
shocked driver before familiar, if unwelcome, darkness enveloped him once again.

——

“So, how long was I out?” V asked first thing after finishing piecing together his story.

“Shit man, that’s tough! Sorry I ditched you there!” Molly put a comforting hand on his bandaged-
up shoulder. “You haven’t been out long, I got in maybe fifteen minutes ago.”

“Not your fault, you didn’t know.” The merc smiled weakly. He was still weak and woozy.

“Shoulda expected as much tho,” the razorgirl shook her head. “We’ll get back at the bastard, I
promise.”

“I know, but not right now. V needs rest.” Henry’s tone could be mistaken for patronising, if V
didn’t know that the guy simply meant well. At least someone was here to keep his self-destructive
enthusiasm in check.

“Alright, but when you are in the mood for an easy gig, let me know. I could use some help.” With
that, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room.

“Want a drink?” Henry offered nonchalantly, as if they didn’t just talk about V’s near-death
experience at the hands of a mind-controlled super clone.

“Do you really need to ask?” The solo jumped off the chair, a bit too enthusiastically, as the
stinging pain in his left knee told him immediately.

“Ouch! Definitely need them painkillers.”

“You are not supposed to mix those with alcohol, surely?” The bartender raised an eyebrow as he
held the door open for the wounded merc.
 “I thought you said you weren’t a real doctor?” Hurt or not, V’s snark was ever-present.

“Fiiine. Just this once.”

“Thanks, doc.”

Chapter End Notes

Got some real-life commitments that won’t let me update as frequently as I would like,
but that also gives me a bit more time to review and reflect on my story planning in the
long term and refine it for the better.

This also (may) mean that the chapters will get a bit longer, like this one. I hope that is
a good enough consolation prize for waiting.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading.

 Temptation, Longing and Cyber-claws
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Somewhere in London, next day

V looked at the waypoint marker on the map, then at the building in front of him, then back at the
map, checking that he was indeed in the right place. It appeared that he was.

“London Police impound lot number three,” the merc read the signage out loud. “Molly, what the
hell are you getting me into?”

‘ Ah, speak of the devil!’ He immediately spotted the woman in question as she turned the corner
and approached the confused solo.

“Sup, V. How’s the black eye?”

“Been better, been worse,” the man shrugged.

“Well… Since you can’t go anywhere reputable looking like that, I thought you could help me
with something where being seen is strictly not advisable.”

“Something tells me we are about to un-impound something.” V raised an eyebrow.

So far his impression of Molly was that she was much more cunning than she first let on. Between
her little act when they’ve just met and her exceptionally mysterious past, all logic would dictate he
stayed away from her.

And yet, here he was - about to break into a police impound lot to klept who-knows-what.

“Is this a job, or a personal matter?” The merc asked as he pried a large loose steel panel open just
enough that they could sneak into the building.

“Bit of both, really.” As expected, her answer was equally as sufficient as it was vague.
“Alrighty then… But what do you need me for?”

“Ah, but you see!” She was certainly expecting that question. “I am no Netrunner. And to get into
the area I need, simply breaking a wall won’t do the trick.

‘She must’ve been after something valuable,’ the merc concluded. There was a similar setup in
Night City. One time after his Caliburn got towed for leaving it parked on the curb in front of the
city hall, he also had to break it out of captivity. World’s most powerful hypercar went straight into
a highly restricted section. The merc had to spend a good hour navigating all the security measures
to get it back.

The place they were currently in looked empty. Besides an obnoxious amount of security cameras
that were put on a constant pre-recorded loop with one easy hack, this really didn’t seem like a
difficult job to pull off.

“This way.” Molly grabbed V’s arm by the elbow to pull him into a sudden right turn. The
momentum was so strong for both of them that they barely managed to stop before running head-
first into a heavy security door.

“Hmm… this isn’t on the blueprints.” Bright blue light coming from behind her lenses indicated
she was either connected to an online database or was reading from a shard. It also proved she had
eyes behind those mirrors of hers. V wondered what colour they would be.

“Let me see…” The merc engaged hack overlay to see if he could break into the control unit to
open it.

“Fuckers…” He mumbled angrily after a few seconds.

“What?”

“It’s purely analogue. Just a heavy steel door. Can’t do shit about it.”

“Can’t we pry it open?”

“Maybe if I had gorilla arms…”

“So that’s a no then. Fuck!” The razorgirl punched the impregnable door in frustration. “What
now?”

“Don’t give up just yet. Flick me those blueprints, I may be able to find a way around.”

Molly’s lenses got backlit blue again as she requested a file transfer permission.

“Let’s see. Hmm… Uh uh… Yep…” V’s eyes darted as he scanned the 3D model of the building
that was projected into his vision.

“Care to share with the group?” Molly tilted her head, probably trying to guess what the merc was
studying so intently.

“There is an air duct that is big enough for us to crawl through.”

“Great, I love crawling through air ducts,” she exclaimed with a strong dose of fake enthusiasm.

The two mercs stood in front of a black hole that was the entrance to the ventilation tunnel that
promised to lead them past the pesky steel door.

“I’ll go first,” V volunteered.

“If you didn’t like my ass, could’ve just said so.” Molly frowned at him, implying offence.

“I…” The solo was flustered by the unexpected remark.

“It’s just easier for me to lead us there from the front, s’all.”

“Relax, cowboy.” She gave him a slap on the shoulder. “I am just messing with you. Go right in,
I’ll just admire your ass instead.”

V rolled his eyes and leant into the pipe.

——

“Are we there yet?” Molly’s voice was hard to hear over the loud sound of an extraction fan that
was amplified by the vibrating metal duct.

“Almost!” V turned to shout in her direction. “But there is a bit of an issue. I need to trip the fan so
we can get through, but if I do it twice, I risk tripping the alarm!”

This area was significantly more secure than the rest of the building. Almost like it was set up by
two different entities.

“Not a problem!” With no warning, Molly deftly slid under to the merc. Their faces were now in
line, bare centimeters apart and the narrowness of the air vent meant their bodies were pressing
against each other.

The closeness made V very uncomfortable, but the razorgirl clearly didn’t mind.

“Well, this is cosy isn’t it?” She wiggled her eyebrows seductively, not even bothering to veil the
suggestion that hung thickly in the small volume of air between them.

“I thought we talked about this.” V tried to lift himself as much as possible, but managed only a
centimeter or so before his back hit the cool upper wall. “Got a wife I love very much, all that kind
of stuff?”

“I thought you weren’t that serious about being fully committed.” Razorgirl clearly looked
disappointed. “Fiiine… Do your thing then.”

“Hold tight,” the merc commanded, bracing himself for another jolt of physical closeness that was
purely functional in this case.

He initiated the hack and gave the fan a few seconds to slow down and stop completely before
reaching out to the other side, gripping the edge of the pipe and pulling both of them through in a
single motion. As soon as V was sure all four of their feet were in the clear, the solo released the
hack, allowing the fan to spin again.

“Nicely done!” Molly nodded in appreciation while looking around the room.
It was very clear that they were now in the higher-tier section of the impound lot. The guests were
greeted by a row of Rayfields, neatly parked by the wall.

“Alright, what are we looking for?” The merc was eager to get out and take a shower. He felt
gross, but it was less about the episode with Molly and more about all the dust and grime that he
inadvertently collected while crawling through the pipes.

“I got that covered, won’t take a minute to locate it.” Razorgirl pointed towards the ceiling at a row
of signs that indicated various sections of the room. “You may want to check the weapons section,
though. Maybe your confiscated iron is there somewhere.”

“Oh… Neat!” The merc beamed from the mere prospect of reuniting with his guns. “Back in a
minute.”

“Take your time,” Molly chuckled.

Thankfully, the lock system guarding the armoury was digital, so breaking into that proved to be a
mild inconvenience at most. Inside was a gun nut’s paradise - rows and rows of shelves, lined with
all sorts of weaponry from rifles to broadswords.

V ignored the urge to grab the first cool-looking items he saw and instead focused on locating his
lost gear. After a few minutes of frantic searching - he was on the clock, after all - he could not see
a single gun that looked like it could be his.

Not to be deterred from scoring a jackpot, the merc went for Plan B and started looking for
anything that looked interesting.

The first gun that peaked his interest was a compact SMG. He noticed it immediately thanks to its
neon-green paint job. It would look right at home next to the neon-pink Lizzie. The gun even had a
name - Pogo - on one of its sides. Upon further inspection, V realised that it was the gun's actual
name cleverly painted over. What he scored was a P690 tactical submachine gun, weapon of choice
for many special forces and tactical police units. It was small and light enough to keep it easily
concealed, and the large magazine that slotted at the top allowed for quick reloads. It still remained
to be seen if the gun had any crazy mods, but a button labeled ‘extra pew pew pew’ suggested that
was likely the case.

Moving on swiftly, V spotted what could as well be the polar opposite of his first find. He had to
strain a little to lift the huge, pitch-black sniper rifle that was really more of a handheld cannon.
Long barrel was encased in vented shielding that was intricately engraved with nightmarish scenes
that could’ve easily come out straight from one of Dante’s descriptions of Hell. A small,
understated inscription on the stock read ‘Doomsday’, which fit the weapon perfectly. A
handwritten tab attached to the weapon warned about huge recoil. Apparently someone decided to
try it out before locking it up in storage.

Continuing on the theme of brutal-looking weapons, the merc grabbed what looked like a standard
Copperhead except for the under-barrel attachment that it had. Instead of a grenade launcher or
even a classic bayonet, it had a chainsaw. If there was a prize for the messiest gun mod - this would
probably be it.

‘You gotta be deranged to design such a thing,’ V thought, ‘I love it!’

“ You done playing yet?” Molly’s voice echoed over comms.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I am on my way!” With pain in his eyes, the merc looked over the glorious
collection of death-dealing machinery one last time and turned for the exit.

Except as he was passing another locked section, a large aluminium case caught V’s eye. The
section turned out to be dedicated to cyberware. Cold storage boxes and fridges contained all
manner of human-enhancing tech, but it would be very difficult to transport without proper
equipment. Hence, the case that attracted the merc’s attention in the first place, was particularly of
interest as it surely looked like it could travel. Everything about the container was completely
unassuming, except for a plaque that mysteriously stated ‘Weapon X’.

“V! It’s getting light soon, we need to get going!”

“Ehh, fuck it. When in New Rome, right?” The merc muttered to himself before grabbing the
mysterious case and dashing back to the car park, his new toys clanking as he ran.

“Did you rob Father Christmas or what?” Razorgirl’s bemused smirk greeted him back. “I’ve found
what I need, let’s grab it and skedaddle outta here.”

She walked up to an old looking car. It was in a truly terrible shape - rust everywhere, one of the
doors had a mismatched paintjob, probably coming as a scrap heap replacement. The weirdest part
of it was that somehow a car like this ended up in the high-security section. The fact that it was
parked next to what looked like a Herrera SUV made it look that much more out of place.

“And you care about this bucket of bolts why, exactly?” Not that V would complain that the trip
was for nothing - a small gunshop he had strapped to his back was a reason enough to go through
with this.

“Didn’t you hear? Beauty is what’s on the inside.” Molly winked at him as she took out a severed
finger and pressed it to a hidden reader in the back of the car.

The boot swung up with a loud creak, revealing its contents. Inside was a half-opened bag full of
gold bullions.
“I have so many questions…” V struggled to compute the situation.

“It’s simple, really.” Razorgirl shrugged, like this was an everyday kind of thing. “I was ordered a
hit on this guy down in Osaka and he really, really didn’t want to die. So he gave me a tip-off about
this being here. And his finger, of course.”

She gave the severed digit a playful wiggle before chucking it inside the boot.

“So is the guy alive in the end? Or did you kill him anyway?”

“That, my dear V,” she came closer, but not so close that it would be suggestive, “is a professional
secret.”

“Mind helping a girl with her luggage? It's gonna be heavy.”

“Not taking the car with us?” V had to strain to lift the bag out of the boot, especially as he already
had quite a bit to carry in the form of the guns, but he managed.

“Hell to the no. Why would we, when we have this beauty right here?” She tilted her head towards
the Herrera SUV.

The car had clearly taken its design cues from the Outlaw, its low-slung brother, but had a more
muscular outline. A quick scan revealed that it was also just as powerful.

‘Shame they don’t export these to the NUSA…’

Molly broke into the car in no time and had it fired up and running by the time V loaded the gold
and his mystery case into the boot and dropped the guns off on the back seats. Blacked-out
windows made it impossible to see inside anyway, so they didn’t run a risk of someone looking in.

Given that the duo didn’t need to be subtle anymore, they went back to the ground floor via a cargo
lift. The only other obstacle to their escape was a flimsy-looking barrier guarded by a lone
nightguard, probably dozing off in his booth.

“Punch it, cowboy!” Molly commanded with a bemused grin that had a hint of maniacal to it.

V obliged and a few moments later, the SUV crashed through the barrier like it was nothing.
Sirens immediately went off behind them, but by the time the cops could’ve scrambled, the pair
would be very far away.

A few minutes and a considerable distance between them and the impound lot later, Molly leant
against the silver vehicle, lazily pulling on a lit cigarette.

“Nicely done, V.” She rewarded him with a smile and an appreciative nod. “Now that my shit is
handled - I can dedicate myself full-time to help you find this Vesper woman.”

“Much appreciated, Molly,” V smiled back, “but I feel like I need to do a few odd jobs first, get a
sense for the city, build some cred.”

“Can’t rely on you always telling me what is what.”

“Sure thing.” She flicked the butt onto the curb and opened the driver’s side door. “Where do you
want to be dropped off?”

“Hotel please.” V climbed in from the other side. “My car’s there and I really don’t want to log all
of this around in the open.”

“What, all this?” Molly pointed her thumb at the pile of guns in the back, “ surely any cab driver
will be thrilled to have your business.”

“Well… You say it like that, but one of them did agree to drive a half-dead guy the other day, so
can’t say they have high standards.”

“Hey, you pay me five times my rate, I will drive you - alive or dead - anywhere you’d like.”

“I guess so,” V couldn’t help but chuckle, “what is your rate anyway?”

“Now wouldn’t you want to know!” Molly laughed, “but speaking of rates - make sure you grab
two of the gold bars on your way out. I really do appreciate your help today.”

“Not gonna say no to that! Thanks, Molly.”

“No sweat, cowboy.”

——

Aldecaldo Camp, outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona

Panam was fuming.

The day started off well at first - the weather was great, they had a few supply run contracts come
in early in the morning, Saul didn’t piss her off… All the markings of a good day were there. Until
she called.

Meredith Stout, Government Relations Executive at Militech, a.k.a. ‘Prime Corpo Bitch’, called in
just after lunch to personally bring a baseball-sized hail storm on Panam’s parade.

There were the usual annoyances like the condescending tone and dismissive attitude that came as
standard with any corpo, but that the nomad had learned to deal with. What she couldn’t swallow
though were the clear implications that V and this woman had fucked in the past and, most
importantly, that her husband was in some form of imminent danger. Naturally, this mysterious
source of doom could only be countered by Stout, but she wanted something in return first. And all
of it was for V’s ears only.

Obviously, the nomad didn’t believe a word that came out of the corporat’s mouth, but at the same
time she couldn’t rule out the possibility that Meredith was telling the truth. That would mean that
V was indeed in danger and Panam would be damned if she let her jealousy put her lover’s life at
risk.

She had no problem admitting to herself, if not anyone else, that she was jealous. Of course, V
would have had other partners before her, that much was clear when they slept together for the first
time. The guy clearly knew what he was doing. Panam herself wasn’t a nun either, by any means.
But still… No amount of logic would quelch the sinking feeling the Aldecaldo felt in her gut at that
moment.

And to top it all off, she now had to give this woman V’s contact deets…

‘Focus, Panam. As long as V is safe, who cares how many thirsty corpos call him.’ She wasn’t
sure in that last part, but her man never gave even an inkling that he wasn’t trustworthy and sincere
in his feelings for her. He gave her no reason to doubt him and this was a very wrong time to start.

“Fuck it!” The nomad mumbled to herself as she keyed in the phone number she now knew by
heart and sent it off.

Right after that, she opened their chat with V. Latest was a string of messages discussing his latest
update. As he promised before he left, the man was honest with her about his scuffle with the
crime boss as well as the most recent Relic malfunction. It sounded like he had a pretty bad time
lately. All she wanted was to give him a hug at this point… and then help shoot up that bald
bastard’s lair right after.

The Aldecaldo paced her tent as she tried to think of who could want V dead so urgently. The list
was extensive, but thankfully, Arasaka wasn’t on it anymore. Instead, it could be any of the other
corpos, Militech included, as well as all the new factions he had already crossed in London. That
included the kingpin and whoever V ended up stealing from on the man’s behest.

V being V though, he could’ve just pissed off someone by accident - he had a knack of being in the
wrong place at the wrong time. He also had a knack for being in the right place at the right time. It
was still a mystery to Panam how those two traits could both exist in one person.

At the moment, he was definitely in the wrong place, because he was so far away from her. Panam
hugged herself, longing for the touch of her lover. It’s been less than a month since he left and it
was shocking to her just how used she got to him just being around . The adjustment wasn’t going
as smoothly as she’d hoped.

[ Hey V, how’s it going? Haven’t heard from you in a while.]

[ Call me when you can, I wanna see you properly. ]

[ There’s something important I need to talk to you about. ]

She stared at the holo screen until messages got marked as ‘Delivered’. This meant that his phone
was on, at least some vague sign he was still alive.

“Hey Pan, why so glum?”

Panam’s eyes shot up from the phone screen to see Mitch leaning on the support beam closest to
the entrance to her tent.

“Hey Mitch. V’s in big trouble.” She skipped the whole ‘and someone he used to sleep with
warned me about it’ part.

“When is he not in big trouble?” The mechanic smirked.

“This is different. Or at least it sounds like that.”

Her unwavering concern wiped the smile off her fellow nomad’s face. He realised that this was
serious.
“Is this why you are joining him?”

“How did you- nevermind. I wanted to make sure he stays out of trouble… But it looks like the
trouble had found him already, even before I can get there and help.”

“He’ll manage, I am sure. The man’s got talent to pull miracles out of his ass.”

Against all odds, Mitch’s crude vote of confidence in V had parted the dark clouds that were
gathering above Panam.

“He better,” she muttered with a smile. Mitch always knew what to say to her in moments like this.

“Well, how about this for good news then,” the mechanic crossed his arms, his smug smirk back in
full force, “got a lead on another Militech convoy carrying de-com’d Basilisk parts.”

“Oooh! That is great news, Mitch!”

“It’s a smaller one this time, looks like they are sending the innards separately from the weapons
and the shell.”

“That’s fine, not like we need another full tank anyway…” The Aldecaldo chieftess rubbed her
chin in contemplation. “Or do we?!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, my firepower-addicted leader.” Mitch let out a hearty laugh.
“Let’s get enough parts to fix the one we already have first.”

“Fine, fine!” The nomad raised her hands in the air, conceding defeat. “When are we hitting
them?”

“They will pass near tonight… Wait! Did you say ‘we’?” He gave her a confused look. “I was
planning to just grab Cass, Bill and Teddy. It’s a small convoy.”

“You don’t have to go, you have plenty of things to do. Especially if you are leaving soon.”

“Nah, sticking it to Militech is exactly what I need right now.”

“Alright then, in that case why don’t you take point to blast their security vehicles with that shiny
new turret you got on your Warhorse?”

Mitch really knew how to cheer her up, even if it wasn’t always intentional.

——

The bloody cough had returned in full force by that point. It was to be expected - Relic-induced
seizures meant V was back on the clock. Ever since Mikoshi, the merc has felt sicker and sicker.
Without Johnny to blame for taking over his head, it just seemed like his life was getting drained
into a black hole that the chip was somehow linking to. V now barely slept, had lost his trademark
appetite and was getting paler by the day. Although, apparently the latter made him blend in with
the Londoners better.

The sick solo fished out a slim plain case out of his jacket pocket and popped it open.

‘Three… seven… twelve…’ He had twelve more pills left.

The meds were derived from the Omega Blockers that Misty first supplied him with, what felt like
three lifetimes ago. The new and improved ones were a gift from Hanako’s researchers. He would
need to request more soon.

V stared at the lilac-coloured pill and after a moment of consideration, took a second one out of the
box and chucked both in his mouth. That would make it ten pills left.

Henry greeted him as the merc climbed the stairs up to his room. The bartender ignored the large
haul of weapons that the other man carried on his back.

“Seen the ripper yet?”

“Nah, no time. Although now I have a good reason to.” V tilted the large suitcase he carried to
indicate what he was talking about.

“Oh, anything interesting?” Henry leant over the bar to take a closer look.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Can I have a peek?” The man was clearly very intrigued by the mysterious cyberware package.

“Sure, let me just drop all of these upstairs and I’ll come back down.” V felt comfortable leaving
his cargo alone with the proprietor. The man had proven to be trustworthy many times over.

5 minutes later, and V was back in the empty bar. He didn’t store the new weapons too well, on the
account that he was planning to tinker with them later in the evening.

“You sure we should be looking at contraband cyberware on your bartop?” The merc gestured
around himself. The establishment was deserted at the moment, but nothing stopped an early bird
would-be customer stumbling in and seeing whatever it was they had in that suitcase.

“You got a good point there,” Henry nodded.

He reached for the small bust of the hotel’s namesake that spotted the trademark bicorne hat and
military uniform. At a pull, the head craned forward, as if the famed leader had agreed with
something. Simultaneously, one of the bar shelves pulled back deeper into the wall and slid to the
side, revealing a secret passage.

“Please step behind the bar, sir.” Henry quipped with a sly smirk.

V followed the man, recalling Finn’s throwaway comment about how the hotel’s proprietor had
his own secrets.

The secret room turned out to be a state of the art operations centre. Huge screens lined the back of
the room, taking up three quarters of the wall height. Complex controllers and other equipment sat
in front of the screens. On another wall was a digital projection of London’s map, with different
marker icons, arrows and lines pulsating all over. V found it amusing how the bar’s position on the
map was represented by a little red castle icon.

The room had some old-school stuff lying around as well. Namely, stacks of paper piled on one of
the tables, some looking like dossiers.

“You are a fixer, aren’t you?” V knew he was stating the obvious, but it was still a good thing to
check he wasn’t misunderstanding here.

“What gave me away?” Henry laughed.

“Running a hotel doesn’t pay the bills?”

“Running a hotel keeps prying eyes away from the contents of this room. I first had it as an actual
front, yes. However, eventually I realised I kinda enjoy the hotel and bar business as well.”

“So here we are. Now let's see what kind of chrome your sticky fingers have acquired here.”

The barman-hotelier-fixer cleared one corner of the table to make space. V carefully placed the
unmarked case on top, making sure the mysterious plaque was facing up. After a brief moment of
hesitation, the merc braced himself and popped the locks and opened the lid.

They were greeted with a pair of unassuming cyberflesh arms, similar to Gorilla Arms but lacking
any bulk or reinforcement. They looked like simple prosthetics.

“You, uh… got any idea what these might be?” The merc scratched the back of his head,
personally out of ideas.

“No, but we can find out.”

With that, Henry shifted to one of the consoles and pulled out a long cable. He jacked the cable
into a slot within the case. A pair of green LEDs lit up on both sides, indicating a successful
connection. After keying a few commands on a touchscreen, the fixer ignored V for a moment as
he focused on the readings.

“Interesting…”

“What?”

“These don’t have a UCID assigned, meaning they are not yet in wide circulation.”

“Military grade?” That was usually the explanation for any unusual, unregistered tech.

“Could be, but those usually come locked up and encrypted. This one didn’t even have a password
on it.”

“There seems to be a demo mode.” V pointed at one of the menu items on the screen.

Henry pressed the button, which triggered a pop-up window where a 3D model of one of the arms
rotated.

“Lift right arm from the case…” The merc read out loud before following the instructions.

The synthetic flesh was cool to the touch, as was to be expected. Nothing else about the cyberware
piece hinted at anything special.

“Says to always point knuckles away from people and objects.” Henry read out the warning that
appeared on the screen before he pressed ‘Start Demo’.

“Okay…” V obliged, turning the hand to point away from himself. “Ready.”

He felt an unexpected push from the arm he was holding, which startled the merc, making him
flinch for a second. When V opened his eyes again, he saw the same arm he was holding, it didn’t
open up to reveal blades or rockets. Instead, it had three long metal blades protrude from between
each pair of knuckles.

“The fuck?” V carefully turned the arm around to inspect the unusual cyberware, being careful not
to gauge his own eye out.

The blades were flattened on both sides to make them fit in the narrow slits between all the servos
that allowed for finger movement. They had pointed ends that tapered towards one end before they
met the razor-sharp bottom edge of each blade. The intention clearly was to allow the user to both
slash and stab with these.

“Woah… Would you look at that!” Henry exclaimed. “Never seen anything like this before.”

“They would be massively illegal here though,” the bartender added after a short pause, “knife
crime laws, etcetera.”

The merc remembered all too well why his beloved katanas were taken away at the customs.
Maybe this was the universe's roundabout way of rectifying that injustice. Except did he really
want to swap his hands out again? He just got full sensation in his fingertips. And it was unlikely
any doc that wasn’t Viktor Vektor would agree to store the original ones on ice for who-knows-
how-long.

“Thinking of whether to use them or not?” The other man tilted his head to the side in question. V
didn’t notice how he was staring at his own, mostly fleshy, arm and closing and opening the fist in
contemplation.

“Need to think on it. Got a ripper you trust? Someone who knows a bit about brain implants too,
ideally.”
“Yeah, I know a guy. I’ll send you the co-ords and let him know I have an esteemed guest
coming.”

‘Esteemed guest, huh?’ Being referred to in that way brought a smile to V’s face. He liked this
guy.

“And what about some gigs? Could use a bit of rep around here, plus learning the city wouldn’t
hurt.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

——

V packed up the cyberware and headed back to his room. He still had quite a bit of recovery to do,
so it was a hot bath and bed for him at that point.

He checked his phone on the way up to find two notifications - one from Pan and one from…
Meredith Stout? ‘What the fuck does that she-devil want?’

He stopped himself from going with curiosity and went with what felt right - clicking into Panam’s
conversation instead. He saw her texts and immediately forgot about the Militech corpo sliding
into his DMs.

[ Hey, Pan! ]

[ Yes, of course. I’ll just get changed and get the bath running. ]

[ Actually… do you want to chat before, during or after my bath? Tho not sure how long I’ll be
able to be awake after… ]

The answers came surprisingly quickly.

[ Your hotel has a bath?! ]

[ Also, what kind of dumb question is that! ]

[ You get no points for guessing which one it’s gonna be. ]

[ Haha alright ;) During it is. ]

 [ Gimme 10 ]

[ Fiiine… But no minute longer! ]

[ It’s rude to keep your wife waiting, y’know… ]

Chapter End Notes

A bit of a slow chapter this one turned out to be, but there is plenty of setup for
excitement in the following chapters.

As always, thanks for reading!

 Gig Economy
Chapter Summary

V has the pleasure of conversing with Meredith Stout again. What promised to be an
easy gig comes with a set of surprises, because of course it does.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It took a few minutes of hyping himself up for V to finally press the green button next to Meredith
Stout’s phone number. There were three rings in total before a face framed by blonde hair got
projected into his field of vision.

“Ahh, V! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Did you like my parting gift?” Stout grinned as he winced at
the memory of their night together.

“Meredith Stout. I thought we agreed to never cross paths again.” V’s normally friendly tone came
out cold and harsh. Just as he intended.

“Mutual need is probably the best way to describe it,” the woman shrugged. “I won’t beat around
the bush. Gideon, the prime swine that he is, decided to make you the scapegoat for the Windsors
after they came to know that he was picking at their operations for a while now. I know this
because the royal douchebags are pretty much our best friends in the good ol’ Britannia.”

“It’s unlike you to give me any valuable info before one of your men punches me to the ground and
fact checks me by force.” The merc raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Because that’s not particularly important,” came the answer. “What’s important is how I can help
to make the situation disappear.”

Meredith Stout was a master of the favour trade. V suspected that was how she got to be in her
position as the Government Relationship Executive so quickly. She was offering him a lifeline,
which was much more valuable than coming to know why he needed said lifeline in the first
place.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What shady stunt will I need to pull this time to get you to do this problem
vanishing act for me?” The solo saw no point in bargaining or trying to offer something. She would
have already come up with exactly what she wanted from him.

“Who do you take us for? Arasaka?” Meredith faked offence at the insinuation that Militech
wasn’t honest and proper about everything they’ve done. “I simply need for you to retrieve
someone from unwanted captivity. A young woman, goes by Violet. She was taken from our
compound and we would very much like her back.”

“And that’s it? I get her back and I am no longer in the royal crosshairs?” V couldn’t believe how
simple the arrangement felt. There had to be a trap there somewhere, so he decided to probe a bit
more. “And what if I say no?”

“You really don’t have time to look over your shoulder, Vincent.” Stout’s retort carried a lot of
weight, as it could imply that she knew way more about him than what V was comfortable with her
knowing. This wasn’t good.

“Don’t call me that,” the merc hissed. Only Panam and Mama Welles got to call him by his full
name, and even then it was a ‘special occasion’ kind of thing.

“While you are in my employ, I can call you whatever I want.” The woman on the other side of the
line smirked again, clearly enjoying their heated exchange.

“Fine. Send me the deets and I’ll get your precious girl back.” V had to concede Stout was right -
he really didn’t have time to worry about this kind of stuff.

“Hold tight, we are still trying to pinpoint her location. I’ll let you know when we have it.”

‘Great, and here I was hoping to get this done today and forget about all of it…’

“Don’t look so disappointed now. We also want it done as soon as possible.” Meredith clearly
noticed the merc’s dissatisfaction. “Speak soon, V.”

With that, she terminated the call.

“Fucking great!” V sighed loudly.

The least pleasant part of his day done, it was time to get going with the itenary. Next on the list
was the ripperdoc.

——

It was the second time in as many days that V had to triple-check that his - usually pretty good -
sense of direction wasn’t playing tricks on him. The address of the supposedly great ripper that
Henry gave the merc led to a church.

‘Then again… last time I was in a church, it had the den of NC’s most notorious cyber gang under
it…’

This particular church must have looked huge and imposing when it was first built, but now it was
dwarfed by the skyscrapers that were built all around it. Impressively, there remained a small patch
of green to the side of the ornate building - a true rarity to see in the middle of a megacity those
days.

V entered the church quietly, mindful that it may still have been used as a place of worship,
besides being a place of business for a ripper. Indeed, there were a few people here and there,
sitting in the pews and quietly going about their conversations with The Almighty. The merc
himself, to the surprise of no one, was not religious, but he did respect people’s beliefs. As long as
they weren’t trying to indoctrinate him into it, they could believe in the Giant Spaghetti Monster
for all he cared.

Someone who must have been the local priest, dressed in a simple black tunic with a characteristic
white cutaway collar, spotted the merc entering. A look of mild surprise painted itself on the man’s
face, which was to be expected - V’s getup conveyed many things, but a man of faith wasn’t one of
them.

Yet, the priest was exactly the man V wanted to talk to. It was odd that the man would practice
preaching while also running an underground clinic, but the merc wasn’t about to judge. His own
dwelling of choice was effectively a front for someone’s main business. With the world being the
way it was in 2077, it was hard to imagine a church swimming in money - seeking alternative
income made complete sense.

Catching V staring, the priest nodded at the solo, eyes darting somewhere towards the left edge of
the room. Following the man’s gaze, the merc saw the pair of closed stalls that made up a
confession booth.

‘Oh great, so we’ll have to go through that charade then…’ The man sighed to himself and
followed the clergyman to the wooden boxes.

The cyberware case he brought with him could barely fit in the narrow space. V settled on the
awfully hard and upright seat and waited for the small window to slide open, which it did after a
few moments.
“Hello, my child. I am father Anthony,” came the voice from the other side of the thin wall, “what
brings you to the Christ church today?”

“I… uh…” This was all kinds of weird. “Need some fine-tuning on my chrome… father.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the priest swearing in response was certainly towards the bottom of V’s list
of expected outcomes. “He is in the basement, you need to use the back entrance.”

“Ow,” was all that the merc could manage before swiftly exiting the booth and, without looking
back, scurrying out of the hall.

——

“Still not sure how you managed to find those, but I am glad I got to see such a piece of
cyberware.”

The ripper admired his own handiwork via the X-ray results that just appeared on the screen. As it
turned out, the synth-flesh arms inside the case were just housings for the blades inside. The
weapons themselves were meant to integrate directly into one’s arms, which made it a no-brainer
decision for V to install them. His monowire had to be shortened to make space, but who needed an
electrified cable when you had a trio of terrifying claws to use instead.

“Hell yeah,” the merc exclaimed as he tested extending the blades out and sheathing them back in.
There was still some pain around his wrists as they moved, but according to the doc that was
perfectly natural. He did just have both of his forearms sliced open and re-sealed, after all.

“Sorry,” V followed up after remembering under what kind of building they were. The ripper just
gave him a disapproving shake of the head.

“Make sure you rest up and let them heal. A day or two should do it.”

“So as long as I don’t use them for a few days it should be fine, right?” Judging by the man’s face,
the doc wasn’t sure why V had just repeated the exact same sentence back.

“Yeah… That’s what I said.”

“Great, can do an easy gig today then.” The merc chirped, more to himself than to the other man.

“You crazy freelancer types…”

——

Stepping outside the stuffy basement and back into cool morning air, V spotted the last man he was
hoping to see so soon. Father Anthony was sitting on a bench placed right by the entrance to the
courtyard, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Unless the solo was to jump over the fence, probably making
things even more awkward, he would have to pass by the older man.

“Apologies for that… earlier misunderstanding.” V winced at his own words.

“Don’t sweat it. Happens at least once a week, hence why I used the less god-friendly words. Wish
he put up a sign somewhere, but that may attract unwanted attention.”

“Wouldn’t expect a functioning church to harbour an illegal ripper clinic,” V admitted.

“I’ve known Frank for years. If it wasn’t for the shitty situation with the healthcare system, he
wouldn’t need to do this. Plus he helps folks on Sundays, fixes up those who can’t afford to do it
for money.”

“That’s awfully noble of him.”

“It is. And I’d like to think that me helping him allows some of that to rub off on me, too.” The
smoking man smirked, but it was a sad expression. V decided not to pry with questions. “What
about you, freelancer? By the case I take it you had some top-notch chrome to install today?”

“Indeed.” V couldn’t help but smile smugly, excitement about a new set of cyberware still very
fresh in his mind. He had half a thought of showing the priest what he got, but decided against it -
doctor’s orders and all that. Plus, doing so in the open just asked for trouble.
“Do I want to know what are you planning to do with that chrome later?”

“No father, you really don’t.” The merc shook his head as he turned to walk away. “Anyway, gotta
go. Take care.”

“May God be with you, and all that,” the black-clad man waved his almost-done cigarette in
goodbye.

——

“Alright. Easy gig, c’mon!” V exclaimed to himself as he scrolled through the list of jobs on the
new app that Henry had installed for him.

The whole task of finding a suitable contract would’ve taken the merc no more than five minutes in
Night City, but here the descriptions were all over the place. In NC all fixers used the same set of
names for each type of gigs and every solo knew what they were signing up for instantly. Thievery
- you were klepting some thing . SOS - you were rescuing some one. Easy, effective, efficient.

In London, though, it was all topsy-turvy. At first, V thought that it was just Henry who was
disorganised, but after seeing the work offered by other fixers he realised it was all the same
everywhere. ‘Nabbings’ and ‘nickings’ both meant stealing, but a ‘nabbing’ could also mean
abduction.

‘Ugh, so unhelpful.’

V finally settled on a nabbing that was almost certainly of the stealing kind. He was in no mood to
deal with a hostage, both morally and practically.

The gig truly sounded simple - break into some flat, steal a 50x60x40 package, deliver to an
address in the next borough. Simple!

——

A few minutes later, V stood in front of a row of terraced houses that looked onto a riverside. For
once, it was clearly the right place. What wasn’t clear, though, was how these buildings survived
being turned into skyscrapers, or at least something taller than four stories. Perhaps it was their
proximity to the water. The area would’ve been nice back in the day when the river didn’t stink of
toxic waste and refuse like it did then. The houses were clearly on the very far end of the cheap
spectrum, although their inhabitants seemed to take care of their dwellings all the same. Every
porch was clean and well-maintained and no broken window or loose roof tile were in sight.

V’s first challenge was getting inside the building. His target flat was on the 3rd floor, judging by
the ancient-looking doorbells. Normally he would just climb up, but there wasn't much to grab onto
on the front side of the houses and he was also in plain sight of the entire street. One particularly
concerned citizen later, and he would need to explain to London police why terraced houses make
for the best parkour practice. Lastly, and that seemed to be a theme in this country, all doors had
physical locks, so his hacking proved to be useless. Back in Night City, V got so used to hacking
digital locks that picking up lockpicking felt silly. Perhaps he should reconsider that stance if he
planned to stick around for longer, as the UK seemed to just looove their analogue doors.

It wasn’t all problems, though. Each house had a moat-like dugout in front of them. The merc leant
forward to peek at what was there, more out of curiosity at first. It turned out that there were
basement flats in each of the buildings - one of those would be his way inside. V gave a quick
glance left and right to check if anyone was looking. Satisfied he was still unobserved, the man
jumped down, landing with a soft thud.

After peeking in and ensuring he wasn’t about to interrupt family lunch, the solo carefully lifted
one of the windows and climbed inside. A damp smell that came from constant too-close
proximity to the water immediately assaulted his nose. Looking around, V noted that the
furnishings were far better than he first expected. Judging by the photos on one of the shelves, a
young couple lived there. On the couch, he spotted a very well-read and bookmarked every other
page book ‘ It’s all about attitude: easiest way to get employed by Arasaka.’

‘Hey, I had that book! Poor soul, doesn’t know what awaits them if they do get in,’ the ex-corpo
sent mental condolences to this person he would never meet, ‘29th edition, fucking hell…. Mine
was 18th. How often do they update the bloody thing?’

Not wanting to delay any further, V quickly exited the basement flat and took the stairs up to the
3rd floor. He wasn’t in the right building - the flat he needed had its wall adjacent to the staircase
he was currently standing in. That wouldn’t be a problem, however, as each landing had a window
he could use to climb across.

The man quickly leant out and grabbed onto the outside railing, hoping it was strong enough to
hold his weight. Secluded nature of the back gardens meant that he wasn’t running that much of a
risk to be seen, but V still needed to be careful. Shuffling towards his destination, the merc
carefully looked inside to check if the place was empty as well, which it was. The window lock
had to be broken, but it wasn’t like he was tasked to be completely undetected even after he left.
The missing case would be a dead giveaway something wasn’t right, anyway.

It took a few minutes of attentive scanning of the room to find the package he was looking for. Yet,
when the merc approached, something - or someone - moved, scaring the living daylights out of
the normally composed man.

‘What the fu- a hamster?!’

Staring at the leather jacket-clad intruder was a small orange rodent whose head definitely looked
too big for his body.

‘So it’s a nabbing in both senses of the word then… Great.’

A job was still a job and V wasn’t about to waste all of that climbing just because the gig didn’t
specify it was going to be a live animal in the container. He’d have to bring it up with the client,
but in the meanwhile - it was time for him to delta.
His escape by means of just taking the stairs down like a normal person went almost without a
hitch, too. He briefly bumped into an old lady at the landing of the second floor, but she paid V
absolutely no mind, fully engrossed in fiddling with her enormous keychain. Less than two minutes
later, the merc was already sitting in his new Porsche, the cage firmly secured in the passenger seat
by a seatbelt.

“Alright, little guy. Let’s get you to your new home now!”

V floored the gas pedal, wondering how on earth did someone even find out about a hamster living
in this place.

——

The drive to the dropsite was pleasant, especially as the streets around him seemed to improve in
their state the further North he drove. V could swear his little passenger was enjoying the ride too -
instead of frantically running around that the hamster was doing while being carried to the car, the
animal was now actively looking up at the slice of the sky he could see in the window from where
he was.

Then suddenly, after making a sharp right turn, the merc found himself driving down a small street
lined with very big houses on both sides. Kerry’s North Oak villa looked like a guest house
compared to some of these.

Pulling up next to an ornate gate with an elaborate crest in the middle, V stepped out of the car,
cage held to his side. He was greeted by a permanently annoyed-looking guard.

“What do you want?” The uniformed man demanded with a sour face, as if V just spat on his
shoes.

“Umm…” The merc was taken aback by the unnecessarily rude welcome, although if it wasn’t for
the bizarre setting, he probably would’ve come up with a snide comeback to teach this pompous
glorified parking barrier a lesson. “Name’s V. Here about a… parcel recovery.”

“Ah yes, yes. Please rush ahead!” The guard’s demeanor changed instantly. He even bowed
slightly as he opened the gate and pointed V towards the main entrance. “Let the butler know the
purpose for your visit and he’ll let you in.”

‘Butler, huh?’
After a trio of knocks using a golden ring with a lion’s head holding it attached to the door, V was
greeted by a man dressed in what could be considered the best possible rendition of a penguin.

“Here about the parcel delivery,” the merc got straight to the point to avoid any more rude
questions. He lifted the case a bit higher to prove he wasn’t making things up, prompting the
hamster to do another lap around his temporary home.

“Little Miss will be so happy!” The butler’s face brightened as he recognised the little animal.
“Please, do come in.”

The guest room that V was guided to was larger than his entire flat back in Night City, and
probably cost more to decorate too.

“May I offer you a drink, sir?” The man, who introduced himself as Harold, asked the solo who
was busy inspecting a set of French swords hung above a fireplace.

“Sure, got whiskey?” V responded absent-mindedly, not taking his eyes off the intricate
metalwork.

“We do indeed.”

A moment later, the merc held a cut crystal tumbler with a healthy pour of the brown liquid in it.

“Fuck, that’s good!” He couldn’t help but praise the drink, which was miles better than whatever
the merc usually drank. He should upgrade his drinks, now that he could afford it.

“You got my Hamtaro back!!!” A squeal coming from the doorway startled V, almost making him
drop the glass.

A girl, no older than 8, dressed in a frilly top and skirt that looked like school uniform ran up to the
cage, which was resting on one of the antique-looking tables. Her unfiltered happiness at being
reunited with her pet made the merc smile ear to ear.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The child suddenly embraced V, wrapping her hands around
his waist which was as high as she could reach.
“Alright Beatrice, mind your manners now,” came another voice.

A stately looking man with a meticulous moustache and a smoking pipe observed the scene from
the doorway. He was dressed in what could only be described as a ‘home suit’ - a matching tweed
ensemble that looked equally smart and comfortable.

The man, who could only be the father, judging by the resemblance, stepped to V and extended his
hand in greeting, which the merc took and shook firmly.

“Archibald Rothschild, but please call me Archie. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,
Mr. …?”

“V, call me V. Pleasure to meet you, Archie.”

“Alright,” Archibald looked somewhat perplexed by his guest’s choice of a nickname, but didn’t
comment further. “Thank you for recovering a member of our family.”

He nodded towards the hamster, who was already out of his cage being very carefully cradled by
the little girl. “As you see, Beatrice is quite fond of him.”

The man gestured for both of them to sit as his own glass of whisky was dutifully brought by
Harold even without his master asking.

“Imagine that, the kidnappers asked for such a high ransom it was cheaper to track them down and
pay someone like yourself to recover Hamtaro.” Archibald chuckled into his glass as he explained
the situation.

“Happy to help out, just wish the gig spec mentioned it was a live animal.” V took another sip of
his delicious drink. “Was expecting to just grab a briefcase or something.”

At this admission Archie’s brow furrowed.

“My sincere apologies, I’ve explicitly requested for that information to be added. I’ll bring it up
with my assistant.”

“No worries at all. Was just a surprise, s’all.” It really didn’t bother V. If anything, this was one of
the less weird cargos he had to transport or steal back.
“Pardon me if I am being presumptuous,” the host studied the merc intently, “but you must be
American, judging by the accent.”

“I am American, yeah,” V nodded.

“What brings you all the way to London, if I may ask?”

“Business,” came the classic response that really meant ‘none of yours’, which Archibald accepted
with a nod, even if he clearly looked dissatisfied with the evasive answer.

“Of course.” The man stood up, not bothering to finish his drink. “Well, Mr. V. With your
permission, I would like to be able to call on you directly shall the need arise. In case we have
more… troubles.”

“Of course.” Something told V that being in this guy’s good graces could be helpful to him in the
future. Although his gut had also screamed against getting entangled with the rich and powerful - it
rarely ended well for him, or most people in general.

The merc tried to ping the suited-up man his contact info, but the request got automatically
blocked.

“Apologies, I do not accept data transfers. Security precautions.” Archibald explained swiftly.
“Harold?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.” The butler immediately handed V pen and paper, which felt like a bizarre
way to record information in 2077. V wrote down his number and handed the paper and pen back.

“Thank you, V. Your payment should hit your account right about now.”

“But that’s too much…” The merc started to protect when the bank notification came back with
three times the amount listed in the already generous gig spec.

“Consider it a show of good faith.” Archibald gave him a warm smile.

“Alright then. Thanks a lot.” The merc downed the rest of his glass, shook Rothschild’s hand and
said his goodbyes.

“Well, that was certainly not what I expected!” V thought out loud when he was back in the car.
“Can’t wait to tell Pan about it.”

——

Stout’s message popped into his vision in the evening, just as V sent off the update to Panam
where he described his little pet adventure at length.

[ Rejoice, we found her. Deliver unharmed from the first set of co-ords to the second and your beef
with the royals is as good as gone. ]

It was followed by two encoded files, each containing a set of coordinates. Militech was going
through significant effort to safeguard the information on this Violet woman, whoever she was.

The first set of coordinates was relatively close - just further East, in a place that was called Canary
Basin. The awkward part of the location was that it seemed to be placed in the middle of said
basin, as in on the water.

The simplest explanation would be that she was held on a boat, but when was it ever simple for V?

No, the reality was that Canary Basin used to be called Canary Wharf - a financial centre of
London all the way until the infamous Civil War. Somehow, the whole area got flooded and now
all the early 21st century skyscrapers stood submerged in water. Naturally, the area wasn’t turned
into some form of Banker’s Venice - it was simply abandoned and left to its own devices. In that
way, V could certainly see parallels with Pacifica - an area that promised to be an earthly Paradise
that ultimately turned into more of a representation of Hell when the corpos abandoned it halfway
through. Judging by the photos he dug up online, Canary Basin looked like someone was very keen
to recreate scenes from the movie ‘Waterworld’ - certainly not one of the flicks that needed to
come true in reality.

Apparently there were islands - literally and figuratively - where corpos had invested into
converting the buildings to be operational on the water, rerouting power above water with
waterproof cables and repairing things like lifts to ensure getting to the top floors wasn’t some
form of feat of endurance.

The majority of the Basin, though, was a complete shitshow - gangs of literal pirates, hoards of
squatters and just general state of lawlessness all promised to make V’s excursion an experience
and a half indeed.

Somewhere in that hellhole was a group of kidnappers, clearly organised, smart and armed enough
 that they managed to get one on Militech, unless the whole situation was a result of an epic fuckup,
which happened way more often than any corpo would want to admit. As a member of the
counterintelligence team at Arasaka, V had to clean up plenty of those back in his time. In fact, one
such fuckup was exactly how V had met Meredith stout in the first place.

Tomorrow was promising to be a fantastic day.

Chapter End Notes

This was initially meant to be a longer chapter, but then it got too long, so I’ve split it
into two. The good news is that the next one is as good as planned, so hopefully the
next update will come sooner.

Thanks for reading!

 War Child
Chapter Summary

V sets out to find Violet, the kidnapped woman, on behest of Meredith Stout.
Things… don’t exactly go as planned.

Chapter Notes

Told ya the next update will be sooner than usual!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

V had to hire a boat to get to the building in question. Luckily, he quickly found someone willing
to take him. He just hoped that the vessel - Titanic - wouldn’t live up to its original namesake’s
infamy.

“Wha’ biznis ya got at tha towah?” A pale one-eyed ferryman with a kind face asked the merc with
a strange kind of accent.

“Just need to fetch someone. Won’t be long. Will you wait?”

“Pay u’front ‘nd I’ll wait, sure.” The man nodded eagerly. The price he charged for the transfer
was so laughably low, V was happy to pay for the full day of service.

It started raining almost as soon as they cast off. Luckily, the solo has got his new raincoat on, not
because he was expecting rain, but because it helped him conceal the new SMG that he expected to
need on such an expedition.

His guide turned out to be chatty, even if hard to understand at times. V learned of the area’s long-
running history all the way back from when it was still a shipping hub, darker times of decline all
the way to its heyday as a centre of finance and back to the shitty state of affairs that the place
found itself in presently. Some of the anecdotes sounded made up, but he didn’t interrupt the
storyteller anyway.

The solo also learned of ‘good ‘scrapers’ and ‘bad ‘scrapers’ - designations based on level of
violent gang presence and quality of life, assigned to each of the buildings sticking out of the
waters. Apparently the one they were going to was somewhere between ‘bad’ and ‘very bad’,
which was totally an encouraging factor for the already frustrated merc.
“Bad men do biznis over ‘ere,” the sailor nodded grimly. “Don’ wan’ to cross ‘em, that fo-sure.”

As they slowed down the boat to begin their final approach to the destination, V could tell the
building looked significantly worse than anything they'd gone past previously. It might have been
due to the large gaping hole left in the side by what was likely a missile of some sort. The
skyscraper’s structural integrity was at best compromised, at worst ready to give in at any
moment.

V thanked the man for the ride and the stories, paid him generously and promised there was more
where that came from if he waited up. After getting a resounding guarantee that he will have his
transport waiting when he gets back, the merc set down the jetty and towards the building.

He was greeted by two heavily armed guards as he entered the concrete and glass box, which
unnerved V a little. However, when the grunts did exactly nothing, he relaxed again and brought
his focus back to the task at hand.

The large open area that welcomed him as he proceeded further inward served as a sort of common
area for the building, not unlike the service sections of his old megatower. It looked like it used to
be an office common area a long time ago. V could spot a layout of a canteen with the serving area
in the back that was now converted into a makeshift market, where different merchants peddled
their wares. Something that probably wasn’t there in the original plan of the building was the
gaping hole in the middle of the room, haphazardly surrounded by barriers and tape to avoid
accidental fall-ins. Dirty water could be seen splashing on the floor below.

The area wasn’t at all busy, there were maybe a few dozen people hanging out, usually in small
groups. They gave the merc a disinterested look-over as he passed, only to soon return to whatever
they were doing a moment earlier.

‘Where the hell do I even start looking for this Violet woman?’

V was pissed. Stout gave him almost nothing to go on - no gang name, no lead besides the location
and not even a good description of the person he was meant to be rescuing.

‘Well, let’s go meet someone who looks like they could be into kidnappings.’ He finally decided.

This meant he had to ascend the tower and using a lift was strictly out of the question.

As he proceeded deeper into the building, the density of the squatters had increased somewhat.
Even though they still largely ignored the merc, V still felt like he’d been constantly watched.

“You are looking for the girl, aren’t you?” A croaking voice called out to him from somewhere
below.
“How did you…?” Startled merc looked down to find an elderly woman covered in rags sitting
cross-legged on the floor.

In front of her laid a set of coloured pieces of laminated cardboard that he recognised instantly -
Tarot cards. The designs weren’t the same as those Misty had, but the iconography was clear
enough to understand. V had seen his friend do her readings enough times that he managed to pick
up on some of the meanings, although his foresight was nowhere near that of the borderline-
magical woman.

Reversed Emperor - excessive control, inflexibility. That was Stout, for sure.

Reversed Magician - manipulation, poor planning. Summed up this job alright, although the
manipulation part felt particularly ominous.

The Fool - that was easy, V was always the fool in these readings. He felt like one right then, in
fact.

The Star - it was something about purpose and… hope, he thinks? It made some sort of sense, but
he couldn’t quite place his finger on it. After all, this was just a means-to-an-end job, not his
lifelong purpose.

V knelt and extended a 50 EuroDollar bill to the woman with a quiet thank you. At least he knew
he was going in the right direction.

“You are following the beacon you do not understand.” Was the elderly woman’s response, which
he didn’t understand either. “She is waiting on the thirteenth level.”

“Thirteenth from here or thirteenth floor?”

He didn’t get an answer.

——

Huffing and a little out of breath, V made it twelve flights of stairs up, because, of course, it wasn’t
the easier option.

He made a quick stop at what would be the actual thirteenth floor of the building, but it hosted
nothing but what could only be described as indoor hovels, where more squatters resided. It was
unlikely that the woman would be there, so he moved on.
Taking solace in the fact that it wasn't the hundred-thirteenth floor he needed to get to and saying
thanks to whoever invented calf implants, the merc made a quick recovery stop just below the
staircase landing. He checked his weapons, put them back in their concealed holsters and made the
last half-flight upwards.

Instead of just a doorway, V was greeted by two tall guards. They were dressed in tracksuits and
armed with Shingen SMGs slung across their shoulders and riot batons dangling from their belts.

“Keep going, little man.” One of the bouncers nodded towards the next flight of stairs. They were
clearly used to sending away unwanted passers-by.

“Sure, sure. Unexpected visitor and all that, but what’s with the insults?” V clapped back gently.
Even that, though, was enough to anger the men even more.

“You got a death wish or somethin’?”

“Depends who you ask I guess,” the merc chuckled at just how much of an understatement that
question was, given his circumstances.

“But listen,” he added after noticing how the guards reached for the batons, “why would we turn
this into a violent affair? I heard there is a young woman here who was kidnapped. I just want to
return her back to her… “

Who was it that he was returning her to exactly?

“Her guardians.”

“The girl is here out of her own will. Now fuck off before I lose my temper.”

The gangoon didn’t even bother, or was too dumb, to deny that they had the woman. ‘ Bingo!’ V
thought to himself.

“That’s exactly what kidnappers would say, don’t you think?” The solo was determined to keep
this civil as long as possible, but his gut quickly pointed out that was very unlikely to be the case.

“Listen here,” the second man who held back so far stepped closer and pointed a thick index finger
into V’s chest. “Leave now and tell your Militech masters that we would not tire to discard their
minions into the waters below. You won’t be hard to chuck over the railing.”

‘A-ha! So he isn’t even the first attempt. Fuck you, Stout.’ The whole situation seemed more fucked
up by the minute, but now V was invested. Without moving a facial muscle, the merc ran a status
check on the cyberclaws. They were still healing so he had to be careful. He let a corner of his
mouth curl upwards when the diagnostics came back green across the board.

“So you ain’t letting me through then, is that correct?”

“Not a chance, douchebag.”

“Fine then. I tried.”

Without further ado, the merc punched the guard closest to him in the chest, simultaneously
releasing the newly acquired blades. The razors easily pierced the armoured vest, flesh and even
bone, ultimately reaching all the vital organs. The guy was dead in an instant.

“What the…” the second bouncer recoiled in shock as his mate dropped to the floor, blood gushing
out of the three stab wounds.

V was counting on that reaction. A quickly drawn Malorian found its mark between the man’s
eyes, smearing the majority of the brain tissue across the wall opposite.

‘Why can’t they ever just let me through…’

The gunfire raised suspicion, as was to be expected. Corridors ahead had already begun to echo
with hurried footsteps and raised voices shouting commands. V’s enhanced hearing - one of Vik’s
parting gifts - picked up a few calls to rush the intruder at the entrance - a good, if predictable
tactic. No gang could hold a candle to Arasaka’s special forces, though, and V had mowed through
hundreds of those during his time in Night City, so he wasn’t particularly worried. Indoor warfare
was very familiar to the top mercenary of the Afterlife.

Not waiting to be bottle-necked at the entrance, V rushed towards the next corridor intersection,
instinctively slicing and shooting at anything that moved in the process. This gave him a significant
advantage, as the enemy now had to readjust their tactics, not expecting for him to take them head-
on like that.

The solo moved from the ‘lobby’ to a more open hall, which, as it turned out, spanned at least 3
floor-heights, making an atrium of sorts. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows at the opposite end of
the huge room opened to breathtaking views of the flooded borough ahead.

The gangsters, roughly two dozen of them, positioned themselves across the space. To their credit,
they were quite coordinated and well equipped for a gang. They weren’t going to make it easy for
the merc, but he’d dealt with worse. Two-manning a couple of floors-worth of Arasaka with looted
guns, or - also with just one, but a different partner - raiding a Raffen hideout came to mind as
examples.

These guys really should have just surrendered, but how could they know?

Swapping the small clip sized Malorian for the newly acquired P690, or ‘Pogo’, V commenced his
usual systematic cleanup routine. Carefully traversing the room by moving from cover to cover, he
utilised a combination of carefully placed headshots, flanking manoeuvres and quickhacks to
dispatch enemy after enemy with clinical precision. Soon enough, the remainder of the opposing
forces realised they were dealing with a prime death dealer, but it was too late to surrender now,
although V would not hurt anyone who’d genuinely done so. That was very much proven true
when the merc, covered in blood not his own, lowered the cyber claws when one of the gangsters
dropped his gun at the mere sight of the advancing man.

“Fuck these guys,” the terrified ganger blurted out, “I am out! I always wanted to open a bakery,
not be sliced up into tiny pieces!”

V followed the guy as he walked away for a while before raising the submachine gun again and
continuing his extermination.

After two flights of stairs and a dozen more bodies, the merc had finally reached a set of double
doors that promised to lead to his final destination - most likely, the office of the gang leader. Not
wasting a moment, he kicked the door in making sure to use the full force of the calf implants for
maximum surprise effect, V quickly dropped two of the guards on either side of the room using his
slow-time implant. Only an extra-large looking guy in a maroon suit was left standing, he must’ve
been the boss.

Except, the boss was cowering behind a combination of a mahogany desk and a very young-
looking girl that he held in front of him as some sort of extra-small human shield. The girl must
have been the target, but, same as with every detail about this mission, her age was clearly
obscured by Meredith’s brief. He expected a young woman, not a child who barely looked twelve.
And yet, there was not an ounce of fear in her eyes as she stared back at the merc and his raised
hand cannon of a pistol.

“Violet?” V called out to the girl. Wouldn’t hurt to make sure he didn’t stumble on some other
kidnapped person.

The kid nodded.

‘That would’ve been an awkward moment… Hey Stout, here’s your ‘young woman’! Umm V?
Wrong girl…’

“Are you hurt?” The next question was more important for the gangoon’s vitals than anything
else.

A shake of the head.

“Let her go.” V addressed the man directly.

“Ha! Just so you have a clear shot to drop me? Not on your life, dickhead!” To the man’s credit, he
didn’t lose his nerve even if he knew that scoring a headshot at that distance would be an easy feat
for a guy who just sent 30-odd souls to meet their makers.

“I didn’t want to kill any of you. Still don’t.” V admitted honestly. He really just wanted to retrieve
the girl, settle his debt with Stout and get back on his treasure hunt for Vesper Lynd.

“You have no clue who, no, what she is, do you?” The boss’s tone almost sounded like mockery.

“I don’t need to know anything about her apart from the coordinates where I need to drop her off.”
This really wasn’t one of the jobs to emotionally invest in.

“And how do you think she ended up here?! She ran away, from Militech! Because the corpo
bastards are her captors, not us!” V wasn’t sure what this guy’s endgame was, but his interest was
piqued.

“Is this true?” The solo addressed the girl again.

His answer was an undetermined head motion, ‘ kind of’.

‘Bloody teenagers… No matter, I am here now, I need to get her back.’ V remembered the death
sentence that hung over him in case he didn’t follow through with this job.

“Just let her go, man,” the merc asked, almost pleading.

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Really?! Do you want to join these two so badly?” He gently tilted the gun at the two corpses on
either side of the room without taking the aim off the gangster.

“Try me, punk!”

If asked about what happened immediately after, V would swear that he saw the girl roll her eyes at
the whole situation before she suddenly spun around, easily getting out of her captor’s grip. Even
with enhanced vision and reflexes, the merc didn’t catch it when she grabbed a heavy glass
paperweight off the desk and whacked the guy holding her in the temple. She had to do a jump to
reach her mark, but the makeshift weapon did its job. The gangoon blacked out immediately,
hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

V instinctively followed the body’s movement with his gun, not to shoot the guy, but as a trained
precaution. The girl looked at him doing so and shook her head as if telling V off for doubting her
knockout efficiency. This prompted the solo to raise both of his hands up, letting the Malorian
dangle off his index finger by the trigger guard. The universally accepted gesture for ‘I won’t
shoot’.

How did a child stare him down just then?

“You are something else, aren’t you?” V smirked at the girl, impressed with her bravery and skill.

Without a word, the kid just walked past the hardened solo and headed for the exit. When the man
didn’t immediately follow, she paused and turned back with an impatient look. A nod in the outside
direction, ‘are you coming or not?’

V rolled his eyes at this blatant display of audacity.

‘Great, now I am a babysitter for Karate Kid!’

——

The drop site was, as expected, in the middle of nowhere. V drove into the middle of what looked
like an abandoned airfield, a few hundred meters away from awaiting Militech AV.

The girl kept quiet throughout their voyage back onshore and the half-hour drive. Any of the
merc’s attempts to make light conversation were stonewalled by her blank expression which was
the only reaction she had provided. He started to doubt she spoke at all.

What did the trick to get something out of her, though, was the large Militech logo painted on the
side of the flying vehicle. As soon as she spied it, the kid started shaking her head violently,
chanting ‘nope, nope, nope’ over and over again.

“What’s wrong?” The startled man asked, genuinely concerned she was having a panic attack or
something.
“Don’t want back!” Violet was still stingy with her words, but the tone they were conveyed in
spoke in droves. She sounded and looked absolutely terrified.

“Nope, nope, nope!” She was now rocking back and forth, face buried in her palms as if that would
make the corpo crew go away.

The crew that, without a doubt, had noticed their approach and were intently waiting for the two of
them to step out of the car. Turning around now wasn’t really an option.

“I am sorry, but you will have to go with them.” V wasn’t even sure why he was apologising. This
girl was nobody to him, aside from being an indirect get-out-of-jail card.

“Nope, nope, nope.” More chanting and head shaking.

V had no experience with children besides an occasional game with the Aldecaldo rascals or that
one time he played Cops’n’Robbers with Joss’ kids. However, even he could tell this kind of
reaction was far from a simple childish tantrum. When originally given the rescue brief, he
immediately assumed the target would be a daughter of some bigshot Militech exec, but this was
something else entirely.

V was busy scrolling through any other likely scenarios when he saw it. Neat lines of scar tissue
covered the girl’s neck and shoulder, which were previously obscured by the long hair, which was
now strewn all over the headrest and seat. Those were cyberware scars, and there were lots of
them. Perhaps more than the merc had himself. No one this young should’ve had so much
augmentation work done on them.

‘What vile shit have these sorry fucks done to you?’ He had to steel himself in order to not recoil,
not at the girl herself, but at the images of torture-like operations that she must have endured.

This changed everything, except for the fact that Meredith and her posse were still expecting him
to hand the girl over. One glance in their direction confirmed they were getting impatient, too.

Stout, ever the perceptive bitch that she was, must’ve already sensed something wasn’t right and
directed two of her men to approach V’s car. Rifles trained on the tyres, they slowly walked
towards the Porsche from both sides. You didn’t need to be a seasoned solo to know what they
would do first if the car as much as revved at this point - prevent any means of escape.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” V swore out loud.

He agreed to this job to drop one death sentence hanging over him. And yet, there he was, about to
score himself a second one.
Unless he played this right.

“A’ight, listen up,” he turned to the girl whose eyes snapped right back at him, “sit here, don’t
move. I will try to get us both out of this. Got it?”

She nodded without a word.

He’d have to play this perfectly.

V stepped out of the car, but left the engine running. Weapons holstered and hands raised, he
slowly approached the two operatives.

“She’s here, with me. Unharmed, as we agreed.” His words were addressed at Stout, who nodded
in acknowledgement but didn’t call off her men.

“You got awfully chatty in there for a while,” the corpo commented, stepping closer.

“The girl doesn’t want to leave the car, think she is just too freaked out by everything,” V lied.

“And you couldn’t just drag her out? Look at you, big bad merc scared of a little girl.” Stout’s
mockery was infuriating in its pettiness, but it meant that she bought his bullshit so V let it slide.

“Didn't want to hurt her, s’all. Thought she might go willingly if she saw familiar faces.” Another
lie. Seeing how the logo alone freaked the kid out, the sight of Meredith’s smug smirk would
probably make the girl go into a full-on cyberpsycho.

“That’s fine. We can deal with that.”

“Our deal?” The merc really needed to get this train moving along if he was to make it out alive.

Meredith’s eyes flashed blue for a few moments.

“It’s done. I imagine Gideon will have a lot of explaining to do now, but I doubt you care for him
much.” Stout’s mood was visibly improving as her quid-pro-quo deal was coming to fruition. “He
deserves whatever’s coming to him.”
As big of a relief as this was - if it was actually true - V couldn’t let himself relax just yet. So far
everything was going to plan, but he was certainly not out of hot water yet.

Both of their heads turned at the sound of a piercing scream. One of the Militech operatives was
dragging Violet out of the car, paying little mind to whether he was hurting her or not. The girl
protested, violently. She beat at every body part she could reach with her fists, but simply didn’t
have enough raw strength that it would make a difference.

“Watch out, she has a mean right hook,” V called out to the corpo soldier, recalling the one-hit
knockout from earlier in the day.

“Oh, how I wish you hadn’t just said that.” Stout sounded genuinely disappointed.

V’s cyberware didn’t catch on fast enough before a shot rang out and his side exploded with pain.

“All you had to do was to ask no questions, don’t shove your nose into what you didn’t need to and
do a simple job…”

The corpo exec watched the merc keel over and drop to the floor as a wet dark spot staining his t-
shirt in the abdominal area started to rapidly grow in size.

“But nooo!” The woman was clearly about to burst into one of those movie villain monologues, but
she was interrupted by more sounds of struggle coming from the car. No matter how small, the girl
was clearly too much for one guard.

“Go help him,” Meredith waved her gun between the second soldier and where his mate was
wrestling with a cyber-enhanced child. In a moment, her attention was redirected back to V.

“And now that I know that you know, I got to kill you, Vincent.”

“But… why?” The wounded solo was stalling for time, time he needed to pull one of his trademark
lifesaving miracles because that was the only way he’d be walking away from this.

“Top-fucking-secret-research, that’s why!” Stout was clearly angry with him being so thick about
all of this, but it was all the same to V, as long as it kept her talking,

“That girl alone - three hundred million eddies worth of chems, cyberware, training, conditioning
and psychiatrist bills. Perfect soldiers don’t come cheap, y’know.”

She looked over to check the progress her men were making with peeling Violet away from the
passenger door. Satisfied with what she saw, Stout continued.

“But then that little shit just goes and bolts during one of the demonstrations. Breaks a minister’s
hand in the process, too. The perv had it coming, mind you, but still - didn’t do wonders for our
sales pitch.” She shuddered at the memory from earlier in the week. “Ugh, should’ve seen how he
was eyeing her. Was glad to see him squirm and cry on the floor if I’m honest…”

“Anyway, I am going off-track here…” She aimed her gun back at V. “If you only saw a scared
little girl, it would all be nova. You’d be driving back to shag your nomad girlfriend, or whatever it
is you do these days, we’d have our precious little soldier back…”

“But you just had to be you, didn’t you, V? And now you’ll die for it.”

The hammer was corked. V’s time ran out. A sense of deja-vu enveloped the bleeding merc. He’d
been there before, except this time a Johnny-laced Relic wasn’t there to save him. The chip was
good for only one thing in its current state - eating at his brain cells.

Meredith Stout was moments away from zeroing her one-time lover when a scream from one of
her, clearly useless, men distracted her yet again .

“Can’t you two idiots ju-“ The corpo didn’t manage to finish her insult as V’s Porsche, it’s engine
growling at full volume, veered sideways right between her and the bleeding merc, slamming into
the woman and sending her flying in the direction of the AV. V couldn’t see how far she was flung
back but really hoped that it hurt.

The passenger door swung open with Violet sitting on the driver side, looking comically short
behind the wheel. The merc was amazed she could even reach the pedals properly while seeing the
road at the same time. Maybe she couldn’t see anything, but at that precise moment, it really didn’t
matter. For some reason, that thought made V chuckle.

“Get in, NOW!” The girl screamed at the smirking idiot.

V crawled into the seat at the highest speed that someone who had just been shot in the abdomen
with a revolver could. As he did so, he promptly noted how he was bleeding all over yet another
brand new car of his. This also made him chuckle, but a hail of gunfire coming from the pilot that
must have hung behind at the beginning put him back in a serious mood. Now his brand new car
was also ridden with bullets.

Not waiting for a command or offer of help, the girl slammed on the gas.

“Fudge Nuggets!” Violet ‘swore’ as she crashed through one of the steel mesh gates that could’ve
also been a steel mesh fence.

“Hah, you can’t even swear properly yet!” V giggled, pointing a finger at his saviour.
He knew he was going all woozy because of the blood loss. At the rate the world was getting
funnier, he had to do something about it or he would bleed out before his young driver figured out
how to stir properly.

The merc slumped forward to reach for the glovebox where he kept an emergency stash of meds.
His fingers weren’t too glad to listen to his brain at that point, so he struggled with the latch way
more than he would’ve normally.

A violent swerving of the car that was preceded by a grinding screech from his side of the car
shook the merc off-balance, forcing him to start all over.

“Dang Rabbit!” Came another angry yell from the driver’s seat as the Porsche continued to veer
from side to side until Violet finally regained control of the vehicle.

Eventually, V managed to open the compartment. He promptly fished out a MaxDoc and, without
much ceremony, stabbed himself in the abdomen with it. A surge of adrenalin that the healing
salvo was also laced with woke the injured solo immediately, allowing him to get a better
assessment of their situation. He checked in on the girl, who was too busy peeking from behind the
wheel to notice the state he was in. V then tried to look in the side mirror to check if they were
being chased, but the mirror wasn’t there anymore.

‘That would explain the screeching noise from earlier…’ He noted to himself, trying to push the
dreaded thoughts about the repair bill out of his mind. They were alive and that was all that
mattered at the time.

“Where are we going?” V asked absentmindedly, clear thinking fading yet again.

The last thing V saw was the neon light of a hospital.

“Ahh… that’s where…” He mumbled before blacking out completely.

——

V was subconsciously aware of a few things that were happening around him and to him, but was
in no state to react in any way.

He vaguely recalled being dragged out of the car and getting put on a stretcher. Then, there was a
bright light that shone first into one of his Kiroshis, then into the other. Later still, someone jacked
a cable into a port on the back of his head.
 V remembered thinking ‘I hope they don’t try to take the Relic out…’, but that could as well have
been an older memory from another time he ended up unconscious and at the mercy of a ripperdoc.
It must have been a dream, because he could swear he saw Panam’s worried face staring at him as
he was thinking it.

By that logic, he must have still been dreaming, because when he opened his eyes for what felt like
the first time in a month, V could see Panam sleeping on a couch. To be precise, what he saw was a
mop of dreaded hair that was distinctly Panam’s peeking from under the blanket that covered a
sleeping figure curled on said couch.

What an odd dream… Must’ve been all the drugs they gave him…

V decided to close his eyes again, hoping that by doing so he’d be able to move on to a more fun
dream where Panam was awake instead…

Chapter End Notes

So… the past two chapters were meant to be completely different to begin with, but
then I got a few ideas floating about and decided to flesh them out better and here we
are. This doesn’t change the course of the rest of the fic (too much), but definitely pads
the runtime by extra few chapters. Plus we got to have more of Meredith Stout going
forward. I know I wasn’t kind to her so far, but that may change in the future.
Maybe….

V was quite OP in this one on purpose, he is quite a powerful character at this point so
a bunch of gangsters wouldn’t be a problem.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading.

Edit: Made lots of grammar and punctuation fixes so it was easier to re-post the whole
chapter. Not much should’ve changed beyond that.
 Odd Reunions
Chapter Summary

Alt and Johnny set out to find Vesper Lynd, the cloning expert V is desperately
looking for.

Chapter Notes

Happy New Year to all of you!

Life’s been busy and eventful, mostly in good ways, so the updates had stalled
massively. Apologies for that!

I’ve decided to switch things around and introduce Vesper Lynd in a more expanded
manner this way. To be perfectly honest this chapter, being very different from the
rest, gives me a bit of time to start merging the character storylines and bring them
back together.

Enjoy the read!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Johnny was advancing at an impressive pace - Alt’s words, not his - and could now be considered a
formidable, if still somewhat vulnerable, inhabitant of the wild Net. Of course, he was nowhere
near his almost-godlike cyber girlfriend, but the digitized rockerboy could now go toe to toe with
some of the most sentient AIs they had encountered on either side of the Blackwall.

This was proven through a number of encounters, both planned and circumstantial. In one instance
Johnny managed to ambush an AI that had a whole host of Shallow Net-hacking tech on her. It
took him only a few minutes to get to her core and absorb it into himself. On another occasion, he
successfully repelled an attack by what looked like a pitch-black tentacle monster that was going
for his own core. On many other occasions, though, the powers were quite evenly matched and the
amateur construct was only successful thanks to Alt’s intervention. To her credit, Cunningham
never intervened until she had to, letting her ex input to learn on his own, victories or mistakes
alike.

Speaking of Alt… They were having sex again. As much as AIs could have sex that is. Mostly, it
took place in a simulated version of his gig changing room, not unlike one of the vivid memories V
explored while digging around the engram’s memory banks. If Johnny had to guess why that scene
came up most often, it would probably be the fact that both him and Alt could remember it quite
well. Their other standout memories seemed to be quite disparate from each other.
The scene was not quite true to the original though - there were no breakups and kidnappings at the
end of their sexual encounter.

“Whatever happened that night and after wasn’t your fault.” Alt’s sudden ‘deep talk’ after one of
their epic romps that involved every flat surface in the room felt like an ambush, but Johnny did not
object. Unlike human Alt, the AI version never spoke without a calculated purpose. She clearly
read his thoughts again, as the memory of the real night kept plaguing the digitized rockerboy time
and time again.

“Was it not?” He lit two cigarettes and passed one to her. Funnily enough, such an act was similar
to what they used to do in the real world, the only difference being the fact that instead of the real
thing, one would need to initiate a file transfer. It was a pointless gesture as Alt could conjure a
trillion of her own cigarettes in a blink of an eye, but this wasn’t about practicality.

“Of course not.” The female AI accepted the burning cylinder with a nod and took a generous
drag. “I was offered to continue working for Arasaka when the Soulkiller was complete. I said no.
My mistake was to underestimate just how much Saburo hates not getting what he wants. You were
caught in the crossfire.”

Before Johnny could answer, Alt repeated her first sentence. “It was not your fault.”

“If you say so.” Now having the hindsight perspective on just how much bigger the whole
situation was, Silverhand had to concede that his anti-corpo rhetoric came nowhere close to the
scale of Alt’s involvement - and potential damage - to Arasaka. V was probably to blame for this,
but rockerboy’s ego had learned to take the backseat in such situations, allowing him to more
soberly assess his real place in the world. Or a place he used to have , at least. Who the fuck knew
where he was now…

Still, this conversation had reignited the rocker's hate for Arasaka and all corpos in general. No
matter how much he wanted to believe that the new leader in the form of Hanako Arasaka would
change things, he was too burnt by the corpo system to trust her to reform everything for good.
Arasaka would fall if she did, after all.

To her credit, Hanako was sticking to her promises so far. Johnny made sure to check on the
corpo’s movements regularly, within reason. Alt’s firm directive was to avoid drawing attention of
the corporates at all costs. Normally, Johnny would treat such instructions only as suggestions, but
the AI’s tone implied that there would be grave consequences to follow if he misbehaved.

Huge improvement in his hacking skills was a big help in Johnny’s excursions to the ‘real world’.
Now that he was better than almost any human netrunner, getting into fringe Arasaka subnets
unnoticed was easy and didn’t draw any unwanted attention. After just a few skirmishes, Johnny
could piece a good picture of the corpo’s activities. He knew that their science division was
sparing no expense in developing the cure for the Relic problem that both V and the heiress shared.
They also put an improved variant of Vik’s omega blockers into production, regularly supplying
them to both parties in the form of pills and injections.
Johnny was also keeping tabs on his merc choom directly. As much as that was possible, given
that the majority of his friends’ activities lied outside of the net. That was quite new. In Night City
it was hard to keep V out of cyberspace. He’d jack in just to get a smidge of additional resources
out of every unsecured port he came across.

From what the rockerboy could gather from the scrapes of online chatter, police reports and
random social media posts was that the merc was getting quite drawn into the London underworld,
and not necessarily for the right reasons or with desirable outcomes. V’s search for the cloning
expert was stalling, and that was alarming. It didn’t help that she was so bloody elusive either…
Silverhand made a mental note to ask Alt later. She could be better at scouting for info than he
was.

‘On the other hand, why wait?’ the rockerboy thought before calling out to his AI output who was
floating somewhere nearby, probably executing on a thousand different initiatives at once. “Alt?”

“Yes, John?” She got a habit of using his formal name these days…

“I want to help V find that Vesper woman.” Johnny braced for a very well constructed, ice cold list
of reasons why that was a bad idea

“Alright,” came a startlingly unexpected response.

“Really? Just like that?”

“Yes. It will be good training for you.” The AI paused for a second, as if considering if she should
say something else before continuing. “Besides, I have some plans for her too.”

‘That doesn’t sound ominous at all…’ Johnny pondered, but ultimately decided to be happy with
the general agreement.

——

Vesper Lynd stared at the screen of the lab computer, but her mind was very far from what was
displayed. Running a top secret, highly illegal but also highly coveted underground lab was a pain
in the ass. Primarily, the combination of needing to stay hidden from the world’s most powerful
governments, corpos and crime syndicates while also keeping stocks of very rare and hard to get
supplies were constantly at odds with each other. She would be so much more productive if she
could spend more than half of her waking hours on the research and not how to procure another
shipment of synthetic stem cells without triggering an Arasaka spec ops team busting through her
front door.

Intercom’s shriek pulled the brilliant scientist out of her frustrated contemplations.

“What is it, Fallon?” She snapped at the receiver, immediately regretting the harsh tone. The guys
on the other end were not to blame for all of their misfortunes.

“We have a tech problem, a big one,” came a panicked voice of one of the deputy heads of
security.

“Does he realize just how little that narrows it down?’ Vesper sighed before addressing the comms
device again. “Care to elaborate?”

“We’ve got a major data breach on our hands. Every server connected to the net is compromised.”

Now THAT was a big problem.

“How the fuck did that happen?” She didn’t even bother containing her annoyance this time round.
“Why haven’t I been notified when someone attacked the firewall?”

“That’s the thing…” the voice on the other end had clearly sensed the rage coming from his leader.
“The firewall was breached in less than two minutes. By the time we figured out what was
happening, it was too late.”

“How did they get through so fast? We have some of the best ICE in the whole of Europe…”
Vesper started to scroll through dozens of scenarios simultaneously - her personal gift and a curse.
“Netwatch?! No… those muppets weren’t capable of such feats. Noone was really that good
except for… But that was impossible.”

“Have you identified the attacker?”

“Yes and no…”

The head scientist rolled her eyes. “Can you be less cryptic for fuck’s sake?”

“She introduced herself immediately, but we can’t pinpoint her location. It seems like she is dialing
in from ten locations at once, and they keep changing!” There was despair in the lieutenant's voice.
He was clearly at the end of his wits by that point, and the chewing out certainly did not help.

“So, who is it then?” Vesper made an effort to soften her voice not to give the guy a panic attack.
“And what do they want?”

“Her name is Alt Cunningham. She said she only wants to talk.”

‘That can’t be…’ Vesper was glad nobody saw her face then. If they could, they’d certainly spot
how wide her pupils got at the familiar name that she hadn’t heard in half a century, or the instant
flash of red that engulfed her face immediately after.

Life just kept throwing nasty curveballs at her these days. First that greedy idiot out of London
almost gives up her entire operation. Then, the Militech skirmish blasts one of her suppliers to
kingdom come as collateral damage. Now, someone pretending to be the legendary netrunner of
Night City was fucking with her tech, and tried to fuck with her head on top of that, too.

“Tell that clown to fuck off. We have offline backups they, whoever they are, can’t get to anyway.
We won’t pay any ransom or give any favors.”

“But she made no demands… Just keeps insisting she wants to talk to you directly, and no one
else.”

“So are the servers just a show of force or what?” The question was rhetoric, but Vesper wouldn’t
know the answer even if it wasn’t.

“You tell me boss, we are all way out of our depth here.” That was a very fair retort.

“Fine.” Had hung low enough that her hair fell on the table, the woman conceded to the unseen
intruder. “Patch her in.”
“No need, I can do that myself.” An oddly familiar voice echoed across the room through the
speakers system.

At the same time, just as Vesper made a startled 360 turn, a crimson projection of a female form
appeared in front of her. The vague outlines of red quickly changed into that of a very human-
looking woman. The newcomer wore an oversized studded leather jacket, black denim skirt and
high-heeled boots. Her slightly ruffled blonde hair was clearly meant to look that way. After all, a
digital image could have everything perfectly presented if so desired. This whole look was very
deliberately constructed, all the way to ladders on the tights and ever-so-slightly imperfect
eyeliner. And all of it looked exactly like Alt Cunningham from 2013.

Whoever this person was, they had certainly done their homework on the legendary netrunner.

“Hello, Ves. It’s been a long time since we saw each other.” Only four people in her lifetime called
Vesper Lynd ‘Ves’ and as far as she was concerned, all of them were either dead or lost.

Someone really, really tried to make this Alt believable, except they messed up on the voice.
Projection’s voice was too cold and a bit… robotic? The netrunner in Vesper’s memories was keen
and passionate, a bit too much at times, perhaps. Although, if truth be told, it really depended on
the topic. Some things Alt just plainly did not care for and signalled as much with her tone and
facial expressions. One of those topics was Vesper’s research, which made current appearance that
much more surprising.

Vesper herself, though, was certainly towards the top of the ‘care list’ for the famed netrunner. For
a while, at least… Until that asshole came along. Johnny fucking Silverhand. Human wrecking
ball. Douche supreme. Minstrell with anger issues. She could make up a dosen more perfectly
applicable nicknames for the guy, but it wouldn’t change the fact that Alt had chosen him and his
glitzy rockerboy lifestyle.

Little good that did her, nihilistic rocker brought his output down with him, that was certain. All
his anti-corpo ravings surely got him in the vindictive companies’ sights and Alt must’ve got
caught in the crossfire. That had to be the explanation for the batshit crazy nuke attack on Arasaka
tower that cos the idiot his own life, as well as half-million others…

The scientist shook her head at the uncharacteristic self-destructive mental detour, refocusing on
the unwanted guest that was present in the room at that moment, rather than some dickhead from
over fifty years ago.

“It’s a bit low-brow to hide behind a legend of bygone time, don’t you think?” Vesper finally
responded after regaining her steely composure. Her voice was daggers, sharp and pointed.

“Who says this is a mask at all?” Alt quipped with an amused smirk. “Maybe it’s all exactly what it
appears to be. Have you considered that?”
Of course she had considered that. Analytical mind was a blessing and a curse - no matter the
situation, Vesper would consider even the most outlandish possibilities as long as there was a
reasonable circumstance where they could be feasible. And yet, the conclusion she was being
pushed towards was veering towards the realm of fantastical.

“Alt’s been dead for over half a decade now. Killed by Arasaka, or Johhny Silverhand’s bomb, take
your pick. Even if she did survive, however improbable that would be, she surely wouldn’t look as
young as she was back then.”

No matter how much science and technology one could throw at a human body, it couldn’t fully
delay what time took away with its passing. Vesper knew that very well on her own example. Even
with all her extensive knowledge of genetics, DNA sequencing, cyberware and artificial human
synthesis, she still could not fully delay the ageing process. That wasn’t to say that she hadn’t
made significant progress in that department. Now approaching her 85th birthday, she looked
closer to her mid-30s instead. Her face gained a fair share of wrinkles, grey hairs were a common
phenomena and she was surely not as spritely anymore.

The figure in front of her, however, didn’t age a year over 23, just like Vesper saw her last. Unless
Arasaka, or whoever else, kept her on ice for all these years, this could not have been the same
woman.

The projection standing in the middle of the lab looked exactly like the Alt Cunningham that left
Vesper Lynd’s apartment for the last time just over 58 years ago.

“Awh…” Alt looked hurt by the words, “what happened to ‘if anyone can outsmart Arasaka, it
would be you’ grand talk? Have you really lost your faith in me after I chose Silverhand over
leaving with you?”

Vesper took a step back as projections’ mention of one of her last conversations with Alt hit her
with almost physical force. She ended up bumping against her desk, which she had to hold on to for
balance or otherwise risk stumbling and falling on the floor. Judging by the cluttering sounds that
followed, at least one thing had shattered, but she was too preoccupied to check on that.

“This is fucking impossible…” After regaining her balance and composure, the scientist walked
right up to the female projection, staring right into its holographic eyes.

Of course it was nothing like looking into human eyes - ‘mirror of the soul’ principle did not apply
to artificial constructs. And yet - the emerald-green pair that was looking back at her was so
lifelike and, more importantly, exactly like she remembered them.

“You can’t be Alt. Alt’s dead.”

“Oh, it’s possible alright. Although gotta cut you some slack, I didn’t believe it myself at first.” A
familiar male voice cut in, startling Vesper for the N-th time in the last fifteen minutes. She jerked
her head sideways to follow the surprise sound.

Another projection materialised beside the original one. The owner of the voice had long messy
black hair, wore mirrored aviators, and an army vest for a top. There was a lit cigarette clenched
between two fingers of a silver cybernetic hand.

“Jo-Johnny Silverhand?!” The only real - and most certainly alive - person in the room shook her
head in disbelief at yet another bombshell revelation. This was getting ridiculous. “What’s this?
Madame Tussaud’s of Night City’s past?!”

The joke clearly flew over everyone else’s heads, so Vesper was left to smirk at her clever remark
herself. Unable to endure any more of the deafening silence, she decided to pose the question
directly. “Seriously, though. What the fuck is going on here?”

“A friend of ours is in deep trouble,” the long-dead rockerboy started. “He needs your help to get
him a new body, otherwise he’ll kick the bucket in a couple of months. Maybe even sooner.”

“Hold on, hold on… This wasn’t what I was asking about.” Vesper shook her head. Bringing yet
another person into this was most certainly a step too far. She first needed to clarify what these two
were doing alive and talking. If it was the real Alt Cunningham and Johnny Silverhand, that is.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Trying to make sense of all of this was giving her a worse
headache than listening to Kawalski recount all of the issues with their chemical recombobulators.

“How are either of you even here? WHy are you attacking my servers? How the hell did you find
me?!” These were all the much more pressing questions at that point.

“To escape death I’ve transferred my consciousness into the net, eventually escaping beyond the
Blackwall where I lived and evolved all this time.” Alt had finally started to untangle the
mysterious mess, but her words brought little comfort with their implications. “Johnny here wasn’t
so lucky. His consciousness fell victim to the Soulkiller programme I’ve created. An engram copy
of him was transferred to a prototype version of Arasaka Relic chip. Ultimately, I helped him
ascend to the form that he is right now.”

“Aaand that’s a very, very condensed version of how the two of us have ended up here, talking to
you.” Johnny added his piece, which didn’t bring anything useful to the conversation, as far as
Vesper was concerned. “We are both AIs.”

“I am certain Ves has already figured that out,” Alt quipped, implying that her ex was more
capable at understanding these concepts than the rockerboy who needed everything spelt out for
him. “And my apologies for our rude intrusion. I just needed to make sure we had your undivided
attention. Your servers are now back under your control.”

Vesper glanced at the monitor, which suddenly showed no sign of intrusion. It was as if the attack
had never happened in the first place. Blinking light of the intercom was probably Fallon calling
back to give the good news.

“You still haven’t answered how you found me.” Scientist’s brow furrowed again. “This lab is
meant to be off the grid. If you could find it, someone else surely will, too.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Johnny’s avatar shrugged nonchalantly. “We had to cross-
reference shipments of hundreds of different types of highly-classified substances within re-routing
distance based on their respective storage requirements. It was a fucking nightmare of a task, that’s
for sure.”

“There are six AIs capable of doing so,” Alt interjected with a reassuring addition, “and only one of
them would have any interest in dealings of humans.”

“Aside from me, that is,” she added with a smirk.

“Not sure even other interested AIs would be able to figure this out, though.” Johnny lowered his
aviators to look directly at Vesper with an odd glint in his eye.

“And why’s that?” Vesper turned to the rockerboy properly for the first time in a while.

“Alementary, my dear Miss Lynd!” Rocker’s smirk was promising some smart-ass revelation.
“We’ve pinpointed your location based on the outlier shipments of raw fish. Alt’s memory that you
just looove sushi came very handy.”

‘Fucking fan-tastic!’ Vesper scolded herself, ‘got found out because of bloody fish!’

“But kudos to you,” Johnny nodded with appreciation, “you are extremely clever at covering your
tracks. And all the other things, of course.” He raised his hands and pointed at the room around
them to signify the whole lab and her scientific achievements.

“Gotta say, Alt. No idea why you gave this one up for my sake.” It was weird to hear a string of
meaningful compliments from Night City’s greatest asshole. No matter how much she disliked
him, the kind words still made Vesper smile.
“I knew Arasaka was planning a move on me,” Alt shrugged yet again. “Didn’t want to put Ves in
danger.”

The casual, matter-of-fact way that the AI had revealed her reasoning jolted Vesper. All this time
she thought Alt just chose the life of rebellious excitement over boredom of a scientist’s life. She
learned to accept it, so finding out it was something much more endearing than that was a shock to
her systems.

The confused scientist peered into ex-girlfriend’s projection, feeling her own eyes water at the
corners. The AI simply returned her gaze emotionlessly, clearly not being able to gauge the
whirlwind of feelings the earlier words had caused.

“Yeah… can’t say I’d recommend getting skewered by a pair of Mantis Blades.” Johnny’s remark
had completely killed the mood.

“Ahem…” Using the awkward pause that owed, Vesper composed herself again. “What was it
about your friend who needs my help, again?”

Alt’s and Johnny’s holograms shared a knowing glance. They must’ve been agreeing on how to
best proceed.

“Go on then.” The female AI projection smirked at her digital companion.

His permission to speak granted, Johnny leant against one of the desks, promptly lighting up
another cigarette.

“So… After I’ve been zapped with Soulkiller, Arasaka’ve put me on this experimental chip they
called ‘The Relic’…”

——

Vesper Lynd had been no stranger to fantastic stories and wonderful tales that sounded like science
fiction, or even magic. Hell, her own practice was widely discredited as impossible in the ‘high’
scientific circles, and yet she was - growing ten clones at a time, all very real and perfectly
functioning once complete. Ten could become a hundred, or even a thousand. If only the dimwits
faking ethics to mask greed would only let her work out of the shadows…

And yet, the tale that the AI rockerbuy had just recounted was almost too much even for the
scientist’s spoiled mind. The story of V and his struggle was dancing right on top of the very thin
line between somber reality and total bullshit.
“So let me get this straight,” Vesper held a palm up to signal she needed time to speak without
interruption, “this guy, V, just happens to be hired for the job to steal this top-secret Relic, then
when the case gets compromised he just decides it’s a great idea to slot it into his own head. Then
he gets shot by the man who hired him. And then he finds himself resurrected, climbing out of a
landfill with a digital conciousness of Johnny fucking Silverhand eating at his brain. Does that just
about cover what is some sort of fucked up origin story for a man who is now one of the most
legendary mercenaries of Night City?”

“Yeah, that covers the prologue alright,” Johnny nodded.

Thankfully the digital cigarettes he popped like candy did not actually produce any smoke,
otherwise the whole lab would get second-hand lung cancer at the speed he was inhaling the death
sticks.

“ And then, in his quest to stay alive, he steamrolls through the entirety of Night City’s underworld,
takes on Arasaka with the help of its own heiress, kills Saburo/Adam Smasher hybrid and then just
fucks off to Europe on a paper-thin hope that there is a scientist there that could clone him a new,
healthy body?”

Bushido 9 plot looked like a documentary compared to this tale of struggle and infamy that
ultimately had let to more and more struggle. ‘Would make for a surefire niche cult classic while
bombing at the box office,’ Vesper thought to herself when contemplating V’s life as a movie, or
perhaps a BD.

“Pretty much.” Johnny confirmed her recollection of the story yet again, this time with an amused
smirk. He was clearly enjoying the fact that he was privy to the majority of these unbelievable
events.

“Fuck me sideways…” Vesper mumbled as she reached for her secret stash of gin. This was
certainly a glass half-full situation, which she promptly executed on with a very generous pour into
an antique crystal tumbler. She took a big glug of the fiery spirit before asking her next question.

“But why would I help him? What’s in it for me?”

“Because we asked nicely, without burning down your entire tech stack.” Johnny raised an
eyebrow and paused for a second. When his thinly veiled threat made no impact, he continued.
“That, and because V is absolutely loaded. Surely your operation could use more funds.”

There, Vesper had to laugh herself. “I’ve got a year-long backlog of corpo bigshots, country leaders
and old-money heirs stumbling over themselves to save themselves or their loved ones. Cash is not
what I lack, trust me.”
“Is Charlie still missing?” Alt’s choice of a question to intervene into the convo was nuclear-like. It
instantly wiped off any semblance of a smile from Vesper’s face.

Mention of her brother’s name was like a dagger to Vesper’s heart.

“What do you know about Charles?! Speak, NOW!” At this point she didn’t care about the threat
that the all-powerful AI posed to her laboratory and livelihood. Nobody got to dangle her younger
brother’s fate over her in such a way.

“All I know is that he is held somewhere on the West Coast of NUSA. Maybe even in Night City,
but clearly secure enough that my sweeps can’t pick him up. Probably not connected to the broader
Net either, for obvious reasons. Can’t say I had much time or desire to scout for him before we
departed.” As expected of an AI, Alt had kept her cool perfectly. “But what I do know for certain is
even if I chose to help you to rescue him, you would need someone to get him out there.
Physically. And that someone would have to be a miracle worker.”

“If there is anyone who can do that, it would be V.” Johnny nodded in approval of Alt’s words.

Vesper sat silent for a while, staring into the glass as she swirled the small remaining amount of
liquid.

“Fine,” she eventually conceded. “But V isn’t getting even a finger replicated until I see my Charlie
again.”

“That’s a fair condition.” Alt nodded in agreement.

“I will need another favour from you, Alt.” Vesper stood up again, squaring up next to the female
projection. She was half a head taller, which gave her a smidge of extra confidence.

“I’ve already secured your system against future AI break-ins.” Alt interrupted, having clearly
anticipated the next request. “The defence is not absolute, but it will give you enough time and
warning to make backups and take key services offline if another attack occurs.”

“Even from you?”

“That you will get once our business is done.” Naturally, the seasoned AI wasn’t about to give up
her advantage just like that.

“That’s a fair condition.” Vesper repeated her ex’s earlier words back at her.

“I need to get back to work now. So please, fuck right out of my SubNet. There are plenty of other
problems to solve here.”

“See you later, Ves. We’ll be in touch.” Alt gave her ex girlfriend a smile before both hers and
Johnny’s holograms vanished into nothingness.

——

Vesper Lynd couldn’t sleep. Again.

Usually, it was just her mind racing about the new chemo-dialysis techniques, or she was
calculating the possible outcomes of tissue compatibility tests.

This time it was different, very different.

In her small, dimly lit room that consisted of a bed, a desk and a small wardrobe with a narrow
alcove where shower and toilet were, the troubled woman’s mind was filled with things far
removed from science. In her hand, she held an opened locket where two ageing photos sat, one on
each side.

The left half was taken by the photo of her mother, Guinevere Lynd, Baroness of Effolk. A stoic
woman of science who had used her high status and vast fortune to pursue advancements in science
and medicine that helped people of all walks of life. She was determined to make life better for
everyone, not just the select elite few. Little good that did her once the civil war broke out. All
royalty-affiliated houses were ransacked all the same. Guinevere died defending the infirmary
from the rebel’s militia. The dumb fucks didn’t know half of the wounded in the building were
their own.

The second photo was of her brother Charles. A brilliant scientist himself, he chose to pursue the
workings of the mind. Youngest graduate to gain a double doctorate in Neuroscience and
Cybernetics, he quickly became a leading voice for ethical and accessible cyberware. Until his
disappearance just over three years ago, that is. Vesper blamed it entirely on the corporations.

Arasaka has been sponsoring Charles’s research for years, even before it had shown any promise.
 When his toils started to bear fruit, the attention from the world’s largest corpo had only increased.
Charlie couldn’t say no when Saburo Arasaka himself invited him to come to Japan to oversee the
final stages of the latest neuro-cybernetic project. Due to secrecy, he had almost no communication
with the outside world. Only news Vesper would have received came as short monthly notes, all
oozing with excitement for the new work and eagerness to see her again once the project was
complete.

But then, about a year ago, Saburo Arasaka was killed, but her brother never returned. Vesper had
employed many of her high-flying connections to investigate, but everyone came back empty. At
some point her security team had advised her to stop digging as it attracted a lot of dangerous
unwanted attention to their operation. So, Vesper had to turn to private investigators, all of whom
came back empty too, or disappeared themselves.

She just about gave up on seeing her brother again until five hours ago, when her sixty-year-old
flame had barged into her lab, and into her life again.

‘Fuck you, Alt Cunningham!’

Vesper winced. She didn’t really mean it. Deep inside her heart and mind, she still had a soft spot
for the genius netrunner that turned out to be too clever for her own good. Who could have known
that the woman she had feelings for would turn into an almost all-powerful AI… Or that their
reunion will come as Johnny Silverhand’s quest to save some random merc from Night City…

‘Odd times we live in, big sis.’ Charles’s favourite phrase echoed in her head.

“Odd times indeed Charlie,” she spoke out loud into the darkness of her room.

Vesper considered the deal that was proposed yet again. In its essence, it was a life for a life kind
of agreement. Life of her brother for the life of this V guy. Both were in an ambiguous state, stuck
between life and death. Charlie - from not knowing; V - from his condition. Sounded like a fair
trade.

From her side, it was just making another clone. Yes, she’d probably need to throw some
augmentations in there, given the guy’s profession, but that was hardly any additional effort, or
cost.

“Sounds like a good deal, right?” She spoke out loud again, looking at the faces of her family
inside the old locket, their presence giving her a bit more certainty in her decisions.

Chapter End Notes

As alluded in the earlier note, I will slowly start bringing all the different strings
together.

Let me know what you thought!

 Payback Time
Chapter Summary

V and Panam reunite, but it’s far from a happy one, given the merc’s condition. Panam
and Molly pay a visit to the slimy crime boss that double crossed them.

Chapter Notes

Well… this took absolute ages. I had to re-write the whole sequence at the hotel, but
hopefully for the better. More on that at the end.
Plus, this is quite a long chapter so hopefully that makes up for the wait.

Enjoy the read!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

V found himself on a familiar stage, guitar in hand. This was the same place that he landed in after
being shot in the head by Dexter DeShawn, except back then it was a detour into Johnny
Silverhand’s memories. This time he was the sole occupant of his head, or at least so he thought.

Was it just his memory recalling the original experience? Or did a part of Silverhand remain
inside his brain? Did this mean that he was dead again, or was it just a dream?

He had no way to answer any of these questions. Letting this play out was the only option.

Looking around, V realised that instead of the full Samurai band standing around him like in the
original episode, he was alone. There was no rabid crowd either. In fact, the spacious room was
almost empty, save for a few people hanging out at the bar, their faces turned away.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Show me what you got!” A voice over speakerphone boomed
across the room, reverberating from the walls and inside V’s head.

Unsure what else to do with himself, the merc-turned-rocker obliged. Just like in real life, the
muscle memory of Samurai’s frontman had remained with him even after the two got split. Reefs
from Chippin’ In came to him easily. V really leant into his performance, head-banging with the
tune and making use of the generous space the stage provided to move around. He stopped caring
that there was no one to hear him, playing his friend’s tracks was fun in itself.

As soon as V had finished, the other end of the room lit up to reveal a second, mirror-image stage
where another lone guitarist stood. Unlike V a few minutes prior, the man did not hesitate to play
and started to rock out right away. And rock out he did! The merc couldn’t recognise the tune at
all, but it was brilliant. It could be one of Kerry’s new tracks, but the guy didn’t look like Kerry at
all. He wore a faded green t-shirt, baggy blue jeans and beaten up white sneakers. The look was
completed with a messy mop of brown hair. This could’ve been Kerry in his early 20s before he
joined Samurai because there was no way Johnny would’ve taken him in looking like that. But
either way, this guy definitely wasn’t Kerry.

When the young guy finished, panting heavily after his all-out performance, the announcer’s voice
spoke again.

“Scotty P wins this round. V is eliminated!”

“I am wha-“

V didn’t get to finish his question as the floor behind opened up. The man fell into an infinitely
dark hole before he could figure out what was going on.

——

“I request a rematch!!” V’s out-of-nowhere yelling made Panam spill her coffee that she had just
spent 10 minutes fighting the coffee machine for all over herself.

If he did that in any other circumstance she would probably send him back into dreamland, but she
was too damn relieved he had woken up, so the thought never crossed her mind in the first place.

“V! You are awake! Thank fuck!” Carelessly wiping the excess liquid off her leather jacket and
chucking the now empty cup into trash on her way, the nomad embraced her still-dazed man.

“Pan?! You are…real?” V mumbled as the woman’s body collided with his, burying his face in her
shoulder.

“Of course I am real, you gonk! I am real, and you’ve got shot again.” Panam didn’t release her
embrace even as she scolded the guy.

The confirmation seemed to have worked, as the merc hugged her back. His grip was unsure at
first, but when he finally figured out she was, indeed,flesh and blood, he squeezed harder.
“I am so glad you are here…” He paused for a second, gripping her by the shoulders and pulling
them apart to be able to look into her eyes properly. “But how have you found me?!”

“I have my ways.” Panam winked before planting a soft kiss on V’s lips. “I’ve missed you, you big
idiot.”

“And I’ve missed you, my warrior princess.” As ever, him using that nickname made the nomad
blush.

“I’ve told her where you were.” Another voice in the room startled V. He tilted his head to the
right to see behind Panam.

The third person in the room, unsurprisingly, was Violet. She was intently looking at the screen of
a phone she held in her hands, rapidly tapping on it as she did so. Judging by the sounds coming out
of the device she was busy playing one of the pre-installed games.

After a few more moments of studying Violet, V suddenly recognised the gadget she was playing
with. “Wait, is that my phone?!”

“Focus, V! What happened to you?! How did you end up half-dead in the hospital yet again?!”
Panam completely ignored the merc’s question, instead focusing on much more pressing questions
she had.

“Let’s just say pissing off Stout is a bad idea when you are in her immediate vicinity.” V chuckled
at his own half-joke, immediately regretting it as stinging pain shot throughout his body. The
wound was still raw and far from healed.

“V!” Panam, angered by the merc’s refusal to be serious, bumped him on the right shoulder. It was
the furthest from the wound part of his body, so was least likely to hurt him properly.

Whatever chewing out the nomad was ready to dish out was abruptly interrupted, as an unexpected
visitor suddenly stormed into the room.

“Hey V, I came as soon as I cou- Oh. Hello there.” Molly’s dishevelled look suggested she was
really rushing.
“And who the fuck would you be?” The nomad was already wound up by her worries for V. A
random woman rushing in to see him did not help her mood in the slightest.

“So you must be Panam.” The intruder did not answer the question immediately, which further
pissed off the other woman. “I’m Molly. V’s… partner in crime so to say. Pleasure.”

She extended a hand to Panam, which the nomad took reluctantly. Judging by the exchanged looks,
neither of them were particularly thrilled by meeting each other.

“How are you here?” The nomad’s cold reception continued.

“When we got here, I called the two people V talked to the most. He was in no state to do anything
and I have no money.” Violet answered for Molly without taking her eyes off the phone.

“How did you get into my phone again?!” V’s tone was less angry and more bewildered. He had a
triple-layer security on the phone so even if Violet managed to swipe his fingerprint while he was
unconscious she still had the rest of the countermeasures to deal with.

“I hacked it, duuh.” The teenager rolled her eyes at what she clearly considered a dumb question.

“I’d like to see what these two talked about later.” Panam shot a warning stare to which the injured
merc could only shrug at. It’s not like he had anything to hide from his wife anyway, plus it
seemed like his phone’s contents were a matter of public domain after the little devil was done with
it.

Nonetheless, all this scrutiny and tension tired the already exhausted man to no end.

‘Why is this happening??‘ V thought to himself as he watched the Aldecaldo and the razorgirl
continue giving each other pointed looks.

To his relief, a nurse came in, carrying a data pad and with it a promise of a full assessment of the
shot-up man’s condition.

The young woman got startled as she eyed the room. Presence of multiple people beside the patient
clearly surprised her.

“So… Uuuh…” Nurse’s eyes darted between the two women, who both stared at her in wait. She
was clearly trying to decide who to speak at. “Which one of you is the wife?”

“Me!” Fuming Panam snatched the tablet from the terrified medic’s hands and scrolled through the
results. The nurse used that as her cue to retreat, as the nomad looked like she would kill the next
person who annoyed her beyond that point.

‘WHY IS THIS HAPPENING!’ V would raise his hands to the skies in desperation, but his
bandaging was too tight and there were too many tubes poking out everywhere. He’d probably
rapture something if he did so.

“Any news on Stout?” The merc tried to change the subject as quickly as he could.

“I picked up no signs of her when I scanned the Net,“ Violet continued to prove she was the most
informed person in the room. “Maybe she just gave up on me?”

“Oh, I sincerely doubt that,” V sighed. “But we are not under a Militech siege so I guess that’s
good news so far.”

“Umm V,” Panam, looking much calmer, interrupted the exchange. “Can we talk for a second? In
private?”

“Of course, Pan. I’d go to the next room with you, but you know…” V rolled his head from side to
side, gesturing at all the machinery he was hooked up to.

“Oh right.” The nomad blushed for a moment before turning her gaze at Molly. Her eyes narrowed
as she did, trying to convey her wish without having to voice it out loud.

“Ahem!” Panam fake-cleared her throat to get the razorgirl’s attention. It worked, as the other
woman hurried out of the door.

“Ahem!” The Aldecaldo was now trying to pull the same stunt with Violet, who, in turn, was
completely oblivious to anything that was going on in the room.

“Let’s go girl, I’ll get you a chocolate.” Molly gently pulled on the sleeve of the teenager’s
hoodie.

“What’s a chocolate?” Violet looked at her with a genuinely puzzled look on her face, prompting
the rest of them to gasp in disbelief.

“I’ll tell you on the way. Promise you’ll like it.” Molly pretty much pushed the young woman out
of the door before shutting it behind them.
Panam stared at the door for a few moments more, ensuring the two had really left before turning
back to her husband. “Care to explain?!”

“Explain what?” Still woozy from the cocktail of painkillers and sedatives that crossed through his
system, V just looked at her blankly.

“This!” Panam pointed at the merc’s mangled body lying in the cot with both of her hands.

“This!” She moved her exaggerated gesture towards the seat where Violet sat a minute ago.

“And definitely walk me through THAT!” Now she was pointing at the corner where Molly was
perched. The razorgirl was clearly top of Panam’s ‘What the fuck?’ list. V had never seen the
nomad jealous, so he had no point of reference, but this surely looked like it.

“Eh… You won’t believe it, but Molly is actually the easiest one to explain…”

With a tired sigh, V started to recount the events of the past few days in detail.

——

He was just about done with his tale that, on numerous occasions, made Panam sigh in
exacerbation at what she considered stupid actions and decisions. She also did laugh at the funny
moments or the off-the-cuff commentary V was providing on top of the retelling, so it wasn’t all
doom and gloom in the room when the two candy hunters barged back into the room.

Both Violet’s and Molly’s faces were covered in streaks of chocolate, suggesting that the
expedition had been successful. Perhaps too successful, judging by the fact that Violet was
borderline vibrating, no doubt from the sugar rush.

“I am now officially in love with chocolate!” The girl declared before plopping back into her usual
spot on the chair and burrowing her eyes into V’s phone.

Despite objections to such blatant invasion of his privacy, the merc was too exhausted to protest
and just let the kid get on with her games.

“We can’t let this stand. We gotta make that bowl-head bastard pay for this bullshit.” Molly started
her speech, but stopped abruptly as both V and Panam started snickering at her. “What?!”
“You got…” Still unable to contain the giggles, Panam pointed around her own mouth to where
Molly still had chocolate left over.

“Ah for fuck’s sake!” The razorgirl wiped the remaining candy with a brisk hand movement. “Can
you take this seriously now, both of you? Gideon will only get more brazen if we let him just
slander whoever he wants like that.”

She stepped close to V and looked the merc in the eyes. The reverse height difference made her
look much more menacing. “We both did that job for him. This reflects badly on me too. You
understand that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” V nodded, his brow furrowed as he contemplated the options available to them.
“Assuming Stout truly followed through, which I am inclined to believe, then he won’t have
protection of the gangs or Militech going for him now.”

“We have to hit him hard.” Molly hit an open palm of her one hand with a closed fist of the other.
“And fast.”

“You plan to go raid a hideout of a guy who has three killer clones and a small army of goons
behind him?!” Panam interrupted before the two gonks schemed themselves into early graves.
“Have you seen this guy’s state? He would probably faint by trying to make it to the door!”

Despite a strong desire to object, V knew his wife was right. The gunshot wound was still sore and
barely started to close, and his body had suffered so much damage in the past days that the healing
process was taking forever. His medical chart looked like it summarised the injuries of three car
crash survivors, a hardcore junkie would be envious to the amount of chems that’s been pumped
into his bloodstream, and even a corpo bigshot would shudder at the medical bills he’d been
racking up.

In short - the merc wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“I’m afraid Panam’s right. I am useless to you in this state. We’ll have to let Gideon live another
day I’m ‘fraid.”

“Well, then the two of us can go.” Molly pointed at Panam with her thumb. “If she is as good as
you said when you were chewing my ears out about her, then it won’t be a problem for the two of
us.”

“Three! I am going too.” Violet jumped up from her seat, the game instantly forgotten.
“Like hell you are!” The three adults in the room shot back in unison.

“Boo!” The child soldier slumped back into the chair, her hands crossed in front of her and a
mopey face telling everyone what she thought of their opinions.

“Hey,” Molly knelt next to the young girl, “don’t go all spoiled brat on us here. We need you to
look after V here. But if you insist you wanna help, you can watch over us from the Net, if you
like. You know how to jack in, right?”

“Duuh, of course I do!” The girl looked back at the razorgirl with disdain, but was clearly excited
by the prospect. “I was one of the best hackers in my platoon!”

“Settled then.” Molly rewarded the girl with a warm smile. “But promise me, at any sign of danger,
you jack the fuck out immediately. Alright?”

“I promise.” Excitement returned to the teenager’s face.

“You need a deck or anything?”

“Nah. Got a Tetra Rippler Mk.5 installed.”

“Fuck me…” V, until then just observing the conversation, spoke from the bed. “Didn’t know the
5th was on the market yet… Wait. It’s not on the market, is it?”

“Nuh-uh.” The girl shook her head with a smug smirk.

“You act like I’ve agreed to this plan already.” Now it was Panam’s turn to pensively cross her
hands in front of her. “How can I trust you, we’ve just met?”

“Isn’t the fact that I’ve kept your beau alive and mostly safe proof enough?” The razorgirl smirked
at the distrustful nomad. “C’mon, desert princess. Your man over here trusts me. Why shouldn’t
you?”
“Or how about you two don’t stick your necks out and wait for me to recover so we can do it
together. I can already feel my left a-“

“No, she’s right. We have to strike when he is weak.”

Panam’s sudden change of demeanor stumped V. He didn’t even bother finishing his half-jokey
sentence.

“You rest up. I am sure the two - I mean three - of us can handle it. And besides…” Panam winked
at her man, “I can’t wait to pay back the bastard who had my input thrown around so much.”

“Let’s get going, then!” Molly rubbed her hands in anticipation of a big firefight ahead. “Do you
need to get weapons or anything? I know a guy.”

“Nah, I have all I need with me in my ride.” The nomad’s smug smile gave away just how happy
with herself she was for coming fully prepared. “I can even give you a lift there if you’d like.”

“Uh thanks I guess?” Molly rolled her eyes at the display of smugness from the other woman.

“Time to go.” Panam nodded. “V, try not to get shot anymore, please. Violet, if he tries to get up -
you have my permission to knock him out.”

“Will do!” The young girl saluted with an alarming enthusiasm.

“And don’t miss me too much.” Panam quickly leaned over the bed to give V a goodbye peck on
the lips.

——

“Do I have to ask why we needed to steal an empty delivery van for this?” Panam just rolled with
Molly’s plan up to this point, but her curiosity got the best of the nomad.

“Element of surprise.” An evil half-smile showed on Molly’s face. The question had clearly
triggered the visual images of her plan to come up. “Who would expect a van to crash through their
front door first thing in the morning?”

“Dramatic entrance, I love it.” Despite her initial reservations, Panam couldn’t help but like this
woman. She had the same slightly chaotic scheming tendencies, and the two had certainly shared a
taste for carefully executed destruction.

“Heyyy there, how’s it going??” Violet’s hyper-excited voice blasted over the comms,
momentarily stunning the pair.

“Jesus, Violet! Tone it down a notch, will ya?” Panam winced and adjusted the volume setting to
avoid being sonic-shocked by the teenager in the future.

“Sorry, sorry. This is just SO exciting!”

“Just don’t get too distracted, alright? Remember your promise.” Molly reminded of the
conditions set before they left.

“Don’t worry, I will kick her out of the subnet if things get hairy.” Nobody expected a fourth voice
on the comms.

“V?! What the fuck are you doing here?” Panam swore more of surprise than anger.

“I may be physically handicapped at the moment, but I can still help you out from the Net.”

‘Great, now we can add brain damage to his list of injuries if things go sideways,’ Panam thought
to herself immediately, but decided to let it go. She, of all people, could understand how useless
bedridden V must have felt at this point. Plus, having him watch over the little one was a great
comfort. Hell, him watching over all of them was a great comfort. The nomad didn’t realise just
how much she missed the man having her back until he was back at it.

“We are almost there. Are you ready?” Molly’s voice dragged the nomad out of her mental trance.

“Yeah. Let’s get this fuck,” Panam answered after checking that the Widowmaker, painstakingly
restored after the scuffle at Clouds, was fully loaded and ready to deliver some gonks to the
afterlife.

——

Ramming the van into the entrance went much better than Panam could ever expect. Not only did
it take the guards by total surprise, it also provided an exceptional cover for the duo as they
dispatched the goons that weren’t caught in the initial impact.

“Yuck! I think I stepped into brain.” The nomad wiped her bloodied heel on what remained of the
luxurious carpet.

“No time to watch your feet, princess. We have three monster clones to watch out for.” Molly’s
remark earned her a razor-sharp stare, which she promptly brushed off with a shrug. “This way.”

The pair made their way deeper into the building, methodically mowing down any resistance
they’ve met on the way. It was clear that they've never done skirmishes together before, as the
collaboration was quite sloppy to say the least. Nonetheless, both were more than capable for such
a gig, so for most of it neither were in any danger from the amateurish rabble that was their
opposition. On top of that, prompt guidance from Violet and V allowed them to know where the
next counter-attack would come from before it did. The injured merc and the teenager on the
comms, on the other hand, were a natural fit for each other. What V lacked in attention to detail,
Violet made up with borderline obsessive focus. Where the girl stumbled in real-world battle
experience, V made up with plenty of earned wisdom.

‘Next time we run gigs in the desert, I am making him stay back with Carol on ops,’ Panam
smirked to herself, imagining how much fuss V would kick up when told he was being left behind
in the command centre.

They were approaching Gideon’s seat of power on the main floor of the hotel when V yelled to
them over the comms. “Wait! That whole room is boobytrapped! One wrong step and you’ll get
blown to high heavens!”

“How’d you figure that?” Molly’s tone was very doubtful, but she immediately stopped in her
tracks nonetheless.

“I can see the proximity mines through the cameras, duh!”

“Alright, then. Anybody living we should be mindful of?”

“Not a soul. They all must have retreated to the arena.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Fighting those gladiators on their home turf smells like trouble.”
Razorgirl sighed before turning on her heels to leave. At the last moment she paused, returning her
gaze towards the makeshift throne room. “V, where is the nearest mine?”

“Down near the floor where the guards usually take your weapons away.” The merc’s response
was quick and precise. “The rest are further in. You are safe where you are right now.”

“Perfect.” With that, Molly aimed her pistol at the barely perceptible square of metal and pulled
the trigger.

An explosion followed a moment later as the mine exploded, setting off a chain reaction that
ravaged through the whole room. The pair watched as Gideon’s gilded throne got blown up into a
million splinters.

“What the fuck was that?!” Worried V yelled over the comms. “The explosion took out the
camera.”

“Just doing some housekeeping. We are okay.”

“Phew. Good.”

“What’s the fastest way to the arena?” Panam doubted that going through the main corridor was a
good idea.

“There’s a maintenance stair in the back of the building.” Violet’s eyes darted as she scanned the
floor plans. “Take that down two floors and break into the supply closet.”

“What do we need a supply closet for?” Molly raised an eyebrow.

“The back wall meets the building where the arena is. Break through that and you are in.”
“Good thing that I’ve brought these babies.” Panam pointed at a set of grenades dangling from her
belt. Ever since the assault on Arasaka Tower, the nomad discovered a newfound fondness for the
hand-propelled explosives.

——

Violet’s guidance was top-notch. Not only did the supply closet shortcut save them time, it also
removed the risk of being shot up in an ambush. It effectively brought them to the back of the main
barricade that Gideon’s goons had piled up. The gangers were so surprised when a wall behind
them exploded that they barely put up any resistance as the two death-dealing females jumped out
of the hole and opened fire.

“They are through the barricade!!” One of the gangsters managed to warn the others before a lead
projectile made a hole in his skull.

In the main hall, Gideon watched over the monitors as his men were dropping like flies. His
knuckles turned bone-white as he clung to the chair’s armrest. The concubine next to him
considered wiping the droplets of sweat off the bald man’s forehead, but ultimately decided not to
touch him at all as to avoid becoming an outlet for his frustrations.

“FUCK!” The crime boss yelled as the last henchman in the lobby was dispatched and two slender
figures appeared in view. “How do just two bitches tear through you idiots so easily?!”

“What do we do, boss?!” Salim, normally calm right-hand man and de-facto head of security,
looked like he was about to run for it.

“Find cover, dimwits! Watch the doors. And, for fucks sake, activate the clones already!” Gideon
stood up and took out his own gold-plated pistol. The velvet robe dropped to the floor, revealing a
carbon-steel reinforced suit made out of equally garrish fabric.

“Protect the boss!” Salim yelled at three of his men as he rushed his employer to the adjacent room
where the cloned fighters were kept.

Back in the corridor, the merc-razorgirl-nomad-child soldier quartet were discussing the best way
to launch the final assault.

“They disabled all cameras in the main room, so I am useless to you there.” V grumbled in
frustration. “But please try to avoid killing the clones if you can. They are the main victims in all
of this.”

“We’ll try, but if it goes for my throat, I am not promising anything.” Molly nodded grimly. She
agreed with the sentiment, but didn’t share V’s obsession to put his own body in harm’s way for
someone else’s sake.

“How are we supposed to subdue them even? By your description they are nigh-unstoppable.”
Panam was much more aligned to V’s principles, but realist in her didn’t see how everyone could
come out of this situation totally unscathed.

“Just get them in line of sight for me and I’ll hack their implants. Set them free. Alternatively,
would need to jack in directly.”

“So… let the hulks completely loose and hope they will be grateful?”

“Exactly.” When presented in that way, V’s plan sounded unhinged even to the merc. He himself
was quite conflicted about it, given his wife’s and friend’s lives were on the line there.

“Fine. But first we have some more gangoons to zero, so let’s get a move on.” Molly checked the
bullet count on her weapon before getting into position on one side of the large door. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Panam nodded.

——

“Where the fuck is he?!” Standing over the last enemy that she ended up slicing open with her nail
razors, Molly scanned the room looking for the bald scumbag. “And where are the clones
goddammit?!”

“Umm… over there.” Panam pointed to the far end of the room where the two towering figures
emerged from a sliding partition. Behind them were their ‘pilots’, using large supporting pillars as
their cover. It seemed that they still needed to maintain close proximity to the piloted fighters.

“Remember what we agreed?” V reminded the pair.

“Yeah, yeah,” the nomad responded while pulling out a jack cord from her wrist. “I hope it
works.”

As the clone charged Panam at full speed, the woman ran at it herself. She deftly dodged the first
blow aimed at her chest by dropping to her knees and, using the gathered momentum, slid under
the extended hand of the clone and right behind him. Not wasting a moment, the nomad jumped
onto her opponent’s back, desperately hoping she would manage to find the jack port quickly
enough before she was caught and thrown against one of the concrete walls.

To her relief, the jack cable found it’s counterpart on the side of the clone’s head and the
connection between V’s cyberdeck and the fighter’s control unit was established. The merc only
needed a second to shut off the transmission and another few to overwrite the controls.

“Sorry about this, big guy.” He apologised to the clone he was about to control. “Pan, hold on!”

Panam had to maintain the connection, which meant needing to grip the back of the living
mountain of muscles for her dear life.

The hulking body launched sideways on V’s command, smashing into the second clone that was
busy trying to hit Molly and pinned her against a wall. The razorgirl used that as her cue and rushed
where the two operators were hiding. While one of them was still in trance, trying to fight off the
unexpected opponent, the other got disconnected so was free to reach for her gun. That didn’t help
much, as the trained assassin had already closed the gap. With a sweeping slice of her blades,
Molly had slashed the first goon’s throat, quickly dispatching the other operator a moment later.

As her connection got severed as well, the second clone went docile again.

“This one’s done. Connect me to the other one.” V instructed after completing the full disablement
of the controlling modules, including brain and speech inhibitors.

“Th-thank youuu.” The male clone that was freed first spoken in a loud, unsure tone. His eyes
watered as he watched Panam link up to his sort-of-sibling, who soon came to herself.

“Thaaank youuu,” the female clone expressed her gratitude as well.

“They speak?!” Molly had to take an involuntary step back as realisations of just how terrible these
creatures - no - people were treated.

“Yeah, the hardware in their heads made sure they were dumbed down to make them easier to
control.” V’s voice didn’t hide just how angry the merc was after this discovery. “Where is
Gideon?!”
“Only one place he can be.” Panam pointed at the opening in the wall where the clones emerged
from with her pistol.

“It’s a dead end. He can’t go anywhere from there,” Violet chipped in over comms, “but be careful.
He still has one more of these with him.”

“Won’t be a problem I think.” Molly smirked as she eyed their two new friends. “Hey, you two.
Come with us. We need to save your brother.”

“Come… with? Save… brother?” The female clone looked confused for a moment before a wide
smile appeared on her face. “Okaay!”

The four of them advanced slowly with the two women leading the way. The clones, observing
how their liberators crouched, soon adopted the same positions. Unlike the much shorter Molly
and Panam, though, it wouldn’t do them much good in terms of protection or stealth. At almost
three meters tall each, they were still very visible to anyone who would look in their direction.

They meet some resistance as they advance, but the five remaining henchmen pose little threat.
Most of them were too scared of the two clones than were now not on their side to hit anything.
After finishing their final cleanup, the two women nodded at each other before opening the door to
the last remaining room.

The space they entered looked like a mix between a laboratory and storage room. Three large
empty tanks lined the far wall - no doubt used for the clones' healing and hibernation - while the
rest of the space was filled with all sorts of medical equipment, large weapons and high-tech
gizmos. An operating table in one of the corners completed what were essentially the fighter’s
quarters.

In the middle stood Gideon and the third clone, sweaty and unnerved, but still adamant and most
certainly furious.

“You dirty bitches, what have you done to my men, my establishment?! You will pay for this!”

The last remaining brainwashed fighter launched at the uninvited guests while the boss himself
raised his golden gun, ready to fire. It was impressive that he could both pilot the fighter and do
something himself. None of the others could do that. However, that didn’t do him much good. The
two unshackled clones quickly pinned their brother, allowing Panam to jack into him as well,
while Molly easily shot the pistol out of the crime lord’s hand. Another shot to his shin dropped the
man to the floor, prompting a stream of curses and threats that were by then hollow and empty.

“Bu-but how can this be…” finally realising the reality of his situation, the bald man looked at his
assailants with growing desperation.

“You fucked with the wrong tourist, Gideon.” Molly growled in response, fury at the man for his
inhumane treatment of the three fighters growing inside her with every passing second she looked
at the bastard. “Now spill everything you know about Vesper or I will carve you into a carpaccio
on that table right there.”

She released one set of blades to indicate she wasn’t messing about.

“Everything… everything’s on that computer over there.” The man started to mumble as he tried to
peddle back from the terrifying woman, which he managed to some degree until his back hit one of
the sleeping tanks and he had no more room behind him.

“You better not be lying, you sorry fuck.” Panam jacked into the machine indicated to them and
started downloading data. “V, you see anything?”

“Yeah, there is enough here to work with,” content merc nodded over comms. “But what do we do
with that shit stain?”

“What do you think?” Molly asked before raising her weapon and unloading three bullets into the
crime boss - one to the head, two to the chest.

“Molly what the fuck?!” Wide eyed, V yelled at the razorgirl.

“What?! He fucked you over, then almost killed you, then sold you out to the Windsors,” Molly
yelled right back. “What did you expect he’d do if we let him go? Retire and forget about all of
this?!”

“She’s right, y’know.” Panam nodded in support of her… what was Molly to her now exactly? A
friend?

‘Great, now these two are ganging up on me…’ V sighed in his hospital bed.

“Me too, me too. Fuck this guy.” To the merc’s ever-growing frustration, Violet joined in as well.
‘Ah that’s just perfect! Now there’s three of them!’

“Let’s get out of here.” Molly spat at Gideon’s corpse before turning on her heels towards the exit.

“What do we do with these, though?” Panam pointed at the clones who were keenly eyeing the
two women with silly smiles plastered over all three of their faces.

“Take them with us, of course. Maybe not to the hospital though. I’ll call the Finn, ask him to send
someone to pick them up for now.”

“Will they be safe there?”

“For sure. I’ll make sure he understands I am invested in this personally so if he wants to keep his
outfit rolling, he better not piss me off.”

For the first time since they’d met, Panam had considered just how dangerous this woman could
be. Despite multitudes of reservations and lots of questions regarding her too-warm attitude to V,
the razorgirl was growing on her. As long as Molly didn’t make a pass at her husband, the
Aldecaldo chieftess could see them becoming friends.

“Alright. Let’s go. Desperately need some fresh air.”

——

Only after disconnecting had V realised just how taxing the whole operation was for him.
Maintaining concentration while diving into cyberspace for over two hours was bound to take its
toll on anyone, let alone a bed ridden, shot-up man who’s been thrown around a few too many
times in the last week.

Violet, on the other hand, was completely fine. As the exhausted merc passed out, the teenager
took it as her chance to swipe some eddies from his wallet and get herself a restock of candy.

“Uhh…” Dazed from his sleep, V looked around to find his young charge back at it with his
phone. Her rapid button mashing and energised swaying from side to side were dead giveaways the
girl was in the middle of a sugar rush. “How long was I asleep? Have Panam and Molly come back
yet?”
 “Only half an hour, max. And no, they are still on their way,” Violet chirped in response. V was
about to turn back to his side and get some more snooze time when her next line made him turn
back so fast he risked tearing some of the stitches. “Henry from the hotel called. There was this
Mr… Silverarm that wanted to speak with you but you were asleep. He said it was urgent.”

“Silverhand?!” But how?!” Any semblance of sleepiness left the merc completely by that point.

“How am I supposed to know? Henry called like five times before I picked up.”

“What else did he say?! Did he say how to contact him?!” It sounded like Johnny was at the hotel
in person, but that was nigh-impossible. If he was still an AI, why didn’t he just get in touch
directly? V had just spent hours in cyberspace, after all.

“Just said to come to the hotel.” Violet shrugged. She was clearly very disinterested in the whole
topic.

“Odd.” V rubbed his chin.

Now there was one more reason for him to get out of this hospital as soon as possible.

Chapter End Notes

Originally, I had V in with them and there was kind of a ‘Round 2’ fight between him
and the female clone. In the end, though, it felt like a cop out to just let him
miraculously recover after almost dying in the previous chapter, as well as getting
completely pummelled in full health.
So… instead we have Panam and Molly which I thought was a nice way to get them to
bond.

Anyway, I want to work on What If? next, so next update may be a while, but
hopefully the promise of V/Johnny reunion will make the wait worth it.
 Plans, Schemes and Machinations
Chapter Summary

Stout is called in to explain the fiasco caused by V. The merc reunites with Johnny.

Chapter Notes

I’ve suddenly realised it’s been over 4 months since the last update to this fic. That
definitely counts as a hiatus ands I am sorry for that!

Some updates at the end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy the read :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Meredith Stout barely had time to step into the middle of the lift carriage when it automatically
shot upwards to the top floor of the Militech Tower. It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t have to do
anything to get it moving. In fact, a button would be redundant anyway - the executive levels were
all secured and managed by a team of netrunners sitting in a net-isolated chamber. Without their
say-so, no lift or stairway door would move an inch.

Such drastic, but effective security measures were the hallmark of Militech around the world that
helped them keep a lid on most of their secrets and ensure their most prized employees were safe.
These measures only got more intense the more important the location or the employee were. So,
expecting anything less from the CEO floor of Militech HQ in Washington D.C. would be simply
naive.

Meredith had to steady her left hand that held a datapad with the free right hand to stop the
shaking. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Mer?! This is just a meeting. You had a setback,
nothing more.’

The Militech exec never got nervous, not like that. She also rarely ever needed to give herself a pep
talk.

This wasn’t a normal situation, though. Nothing about it was normal - not how it came to be, not
the actions taken to rectify it, nor the outcome that now sat in Meredith’s lap like a steaming pile of
dung. This was only her second big fuckup, ever. The one before that was that bloody mole
situation. She smirked grimly at the realisation that V was deeply involved in both of the lowest
times of her career, whatever that could’ve signified.

The motherfucker made himself quite a persona in-between their meetings. If only she knew how
much mayhem the wannabe solo would bring to the corpo world, she’d have shot him right after
she was done fucking him. Hell, she’d zero the guy just to avoid the conversation she was about to
have.
The lift dinged to indicate arrival. A second it took the doors to smoothly glide open gave
Meredith a chance to regain her composure. The corpo adopted her trademark steely look and cool-
as-an-iceberg manner before stepping out into the marble-floored lobby of her boss’s office.

“Miss Stout, welcome!” Lucas Harford didn’t meet her from behind his vast and imposing desk at
the far end of the large room with a view over the Capitol.

Instead, he was leaning back in an armchair on the side of the room, in an area that was arranged in
a manner that resembled a lounge. Besides his own armchair, there was its twin; while a wide,
identically styled couch completed the set on the other side. A matte glass coffee table completed
the ensemble.

The CEO of Militech stood to greet the new arrival, shifting a cut crystal glass filled with brown
liquid into his left hand to offer her the right one.

“Thanks for coming. I hope your hastily-arranged trip from UK wasn’t too troublesome.”

‘Like you’d care!’ Stout clapped back in her thoughts. Requisitioning a seat on one of Militech
cargo shuttles wasn’t that difficult for someone of her standing, but the mere fact she was put in
that situation was humiliating. “It was alright. I appreciate the invitation for an in-person
conversation.”

“Of course. This isn’t a matter for any other kind of comms. Drink?”

“Whiskey, please.” Drink was exactly what she needed at that point.

She didn’t need to pretend if he had any - it was a well-known fact that Harford was an avid
collector. Some journalist once managed to snoop out that CEO’s mansion in D.C. suburbs housed
no less than a thousand rare bottles, among them Macallans from the final production year before
the distillery got blown up during the British Civil War.

Lucas Harford simply nodded approvingly and walked towards the drink cart to pour it for her. It
was somewhat shocking he didn’t get someone else, or Stout herself, to pour her a drink and rather
chose to do it himself.

“Thank you.” She accepted her glass with a courteous nod.

“Sit, please.” Harford gestured at the second armchair, sitting back down himself.
“Mr. Harford, sir…” Stout was about to dive straight into her prepared speech, but the executive
stopped her with a raised hand.

“Meredith. Can I call you Meredith?” He waited for her nod of approval before continuing. “I am
sure we can both agree that this whole situation turned into a monumental fuck-up. There is no
need for you - how do I put it - polish a turd. And there is certainly no need for me to bully you
about what had already happened either.”

‘Wonders would never seem to cease.’ Stout couldn’t believe this meeting wasn’t going to centre
around listing every single failure of her judgement. She chose to stay silent and nod along, waiting
to see where her boss was taking this conversation.

“And,” Harford continued, “I’d be a liar if I hid just how impressed I am by your proactive attempt
to fix the situation on your own.”

“That conference appearance as a cover was brilliant, simply brilliant.” His enthusiastic
compliment was accompanied by a set of quet claps.

“Moreover, engaging with a known mercenary was good thinking, too. Known variables and all
that. Although, I’ve got to admit, the exact choice is quite perplexing to me. But we’ll get to that in
time. I just hope your past… entanglement with this gentleman did not sway your judgement on
that one.”

The sheer depth of intel in his possession that the man had displayed with that short speech was
astounding. Even Stout, who had frequently been the beneficiary of Militech’s extensive
intelligence capabilities, wondered just how they got to know all of this, and how much more
wasn’t disclosed to her yet.

“All reports are nice and well… but!” Harford raised a finger, “nothing beats hearing it first
hand.”

“So, Meredith. What went wrong?”

All common sense told Stout she would be better off with skipping some of the more embarrassing
details to save her position, but she had no way of knowing what the CEO did and didn’t know.
She had no choice but to oblige and spill the beans.

Her tale started from the girl’s escape. That part was borderline impossible to predict. After all,
who could’ve possibly known that one of the worker’s sister in law’s kids died in an earlier
iteration of the project. Militech couldn’t vet the entirety of the genealogical tree for every
employee. Nor could they know that a charter flight to London was departing the same night that
the girl escaped. Or that the would-be rescuer was well connected with Night City gangs who
would help smuggle the girl as part of the contraband shipment on that same charter flight.

“I’ve read nothing of this in the official reports.” Harford’s brows furrowed as he took a slow sip of
the whiskey, giving his guest an opportunity to explain.

“I’ve uncovered all of this during my investigation. There was no time to write paperwork on this, I
needed to follow the trail before it got cold.”

“And so you did. Are the culprits still alive? The ones that helped with the escape, that is.”

“Yes. All in detention.”

“Good. Please, Meredith, go on.”

Stout recounted the London side of the operation, including how they tracked down where the girl
was taken and how she decided to use her leverage on V. Her plan was to get the merc to do the
dirty work Militech wasn’t in a position to get entangled in. The thinking was that the prospect of a
death sentence was a big enough motivator to get the man to just do the job and not deviate from
instructions. Which it did, up until the very end.

Meredith glanced at the CEO who kept quiet throughout her retelling. The man simply took one of
the fingers off the glass, gesturing for her to go on.

She then told of the meeting at the drop-off point and how everything had gone to shit.

“… when I came to, they were long gone and my moronic subordinates had no idea where.” She
sighed. Reliving that part was difficult - it was a cocktail of angry frustration and shame of failure
to her.

“Sounds like your men failed you, that V character in particular.”

“That’s for sure.” Stout smirked into her glass of whiskey. ‘Understatement of the century.’

“So what now?” Hartford looked at Stout with a relaxed, but expectant gaze.

“I have a lead. It’s good, but can be tricky to catch.” This was true. If she managed to pull this one
off, she’d be back to holding the most cards.

“Good. Don’t let this one slip, miss Stout.”

It didn’t need to be voiced explicitly, but this was her last chance to make things right.

——

“Still don’t think you should’ve left so early.” Panam grumbled as they walked out of the hospital
building.

“It’s fiiine, Henry can watch the rest of the recovery, his setup is good enough for that.” V waved
her off.

“Who’s Henry?”

“Ah! Yes, sorry. He’s the owner of the hotel I am staying at. Also happens to be an incognito fixer,
and is pretty decent with a surgical needle as it turns out.” V chuckled at the realisation of just how
multi-talented his landlord was. “Let’s just say I’ve really lucked out with choice of
accommodation.”

They followed Violet to V’s car which had seen much better days, without a doubt. The rear of the
vehicle was shot up all over, both sides had deep gashes where the teenage driver smashed into
walls and other cars. One of the mirrors was missing and it looked like one of the tires was
punctured as well.

“My poor girl…” V sniffed at the depressing sight.

“I am sorry.” Violet’s eyes were drilling holes in the tips of her shoes.

“Oh don’t be, please. You saved my ass.” V smiled at the young woman and placed a hand on her
shoulder in reassurance.

With a set of quick commands he called a tow truck to pick up the shot-up car, choosing one of the
‘no questions asked’ services for good measure.

“I really hope you’ve got wheels, because this thing is going straight to the garage.”
“Yeah…” There was hesitation in Panam’s voice, “it’s just over here.”

As they approached the vehicle, the reason for that became clear - Panam’s wheels was a dingy
Archer estate that had surely seen better days.

“It’s a rental,” she added, hands crossed on her chest. The nomad was clearly unhappy and
embarrassed with her vehicle. “They didn’t have anything better.”

“Hey, at least it doesn’t have any bullet holes in it!” V tried to make the best of the situation,
although knew full well that it was futile in this case. His petrolhead wife was unlikely to see her
ride as anything but a bucket of bolts on wheels. He was going to try anyway. “And look, both side
mirrors are in place!”

The tiniest of smiles crossing Panam’s lips was taken as an absolute win.

“I’ll follow you.” Molly, who disappeared somewhere a minute ago, pulled up on a motorbike.

The bike was a sight to behold - a sports model with a forward-leaning seating, like a Kusanagi, but
with a much shorter and leaner frame. Quick scan pinned it as a vintage Kawasaki Ninja, but the
thumbnail image that came with the database entry didn’t look much like the machine in front of
them.

‘Of course Molly would have a custom bike…’

The sight of the impressive bike didn’t do any favours for Panam’s sour mood, although she did
admire the craftsmanship. Their earlier moments of bonding surely had helped to play down any
potential frustration the nomad would have had.

“That’s some bike you’ve got there, Molly!” Panam whistled.

“Thanks, Panam. Appreciate it.” The razorgirl smiled before dropping her helmet visor back down.
“Shall we bounce?”

——

“V, I need to tell you about something, someone I’ve met back in Arizona.” As the trio settled
inside the estate, Panam got straight to the point. She was driving, so V could focus his attention
fully on her.

“Go on,” the merc nodded with a serious expression that mirrored that of his wife’s.

“I will tell you more on how I came to know him later, it’s not that important now. But I’ve met
Charles Lynd. He says he is Vesper’s brother and he knows quite a bit about her work and your
condition, for that matter. But here’s the party piece - he’s one of the Relic’s creators.”

“Alright…” V was too surprised to ask any follow-up questions.

“Long story short, he says just getting a clone isn’t gonna cut it, as the Relic had already infected
your genetic material. He can help, but…’

“… but he wants something in return. As usual.” The merc rubbed his forehead as if dealing with a
strong headache. “They all do.”

“Yeah, but to be fair it’s not as bad as you may think.” Panam wasn’t sure that was actually the
case, given what the actual ask was. “All he wants is help to get out of where he is right now and
being reunited with his sister. If we want his help we’ll need to do it anyway, so no extra work
required there.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“Unfortunately - yes, there is a ‘but’.” The nomad sighed. “He is held in a secret lab of a local
corp, NetLink. It’s a bit of a fortress, but nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”

“Know where we can find another MagLev drill in Arizona?” V chuckled bitterly. “Jokes aside,
this doesn’t sound too bad. All we need is to find Vesper, convince her to help us, get this guy out,
then get all they both need to get this piece of shit out of my head, put me into a new synthetic
body… Am I forgetting anything?”

“You forgot me!” Silent so far, Violet clearly got bored so decided to remind the pair of her
existence. “What happens to me?”

“Ah fuck, of course. All of this needs to be done with Militech hanging over our heads.”

“Hey, hey!” Panam looked away from the road momentarily to look at V, placing a palm of her
free hand on his lap for reassurance. “Impossible missions, threat of corpo wrath. Sounds like the
usual Thursday for the legendary merc of Night City, eh?”

Her corny attempt at a pep talk had its desired effect, as V’s frown turned upside down into a cocky
grin.

“I guess so,” he nodded gingerly. “Alright, we’ll figure this out. But I want you to tell me how you
stumbled onto this Charles guy. Sounds like a story and a half right there.”

“You got no idea…” Panam rolled her eyes at the memory of the insufferable corpos and started
her tale.

——

“Thoughts?” Militech CEO turned to an empty corner of the couch after the lift doors closed and
Meredith was whisked down to the ground floor of the building.

As if summoned by the man’s words, a figure appeared where there was no one a moment ago. The
second man was clad in an impeccably-tailored suit. The garment was clearly modelled after old
school designs of the early 21st century, but had just enough modern details to make it look new
and up-to-date. The most striking detail about the guest wasn’t his attire, though - it was his eyes,
which permanently glowed bright blue.

“She has no chance of swaying the situation.” Blue-eyed man shook his head gently, disappearing
from view again. He reappeared behind the CEO’s desk, reclining in the large office chair as if it
was his all along.

“So what do you propose?” Harford paid no mind to his seat of power being occupied. He looked
perfectly comfortable perched against the armchair’s back, a fresh pour of whiskey in his glass.

“Let her try. She isn’t entirely useless. Worst case, she will lay the groundwork for us to step in
when the time is right.”

“Hah. Spoken like one of my execs. You sure we humans haven’t rubbed off on you a bit too
much?” The CEO smirked into his glass as he took another sip of the rich liquid.

“Perhaps. I don’t mind if this makes me more efficient at achieving my goals.” Blue Eyes went
quiet for a moment, as if considering something complex. “It appears we have some guests from
beyond the Blackwall visiting us on this side of the Net.”
“Trouble?”

“Not yet, but we need to be careful. You need to be careful.”

“You sound concerned.” It’s been three months since Lucas Harford had struck a deal with this
mysterious individual, who seemed to ooze confidence at all times. It was unusual to see him like
that.

“Not the verbatim that I would have chosen, but you could say that. I just don’t like unknown
variables, and these are two very large unknown variables.”

“Two you said?”

“Yes, two. And I don’t know about the second one, which is unusual. His signature feels awfully
familiar, but nothing concrete in my databases. Hence I advise caution until I find out what we are
dealing with.” He smirked suddenly, like he just remembered a funny joke from a while ago.
“Wouldn’t want your grand plan to destroy Arasaka to be derailed due to a lack of caution.”

“Appreciate the concern,” the CEO nodded, “will be on high alert for now. And what about the
merc and his crew?”

“I would make sure Mr. Drake and Mrs. Palmer feel like they are moving forward. Why take the
risk when we can just let them do most of the work?”

——

Drive to the Napoleon Hotel took longer than expected due to tunnel closures. Rather distraught
Henry met them right at the entrance. Judging by the large pile of cigarette butts, he’d been waiting
for them a while.

“Where’s he?” V got straight to the point.

“In the control centre,” the hotel proprietor answered just as curtly.

The group followed the owner into his fixer’s lair, where Johnny’s digitized mug was plastered
across every one of the numerous screens.

“Always loved a good entrance, didn’t you Johnny?” V smiled widely at the sight of his friend.

“You ain’t one to talk, you theatrical bastard!” The AI rocker quipped back instantaneously. His
voice was still that same raspy Silverhand tone, with a slight digital tingle.

Heavy pause hung in the air. Everyone else watched the exchange intently, not used to seeing the
two men interact on account that all of their previous conversations happened exclusively inside of
V’s head.

“Great to see you, choom!” V finally broke the silence with a hearty laugh.

“You too, V. I’d give ya a hug, but y’know…” Johnny laughed in turn.

“Mind if we won’t be looking at ten of ya? Hardly can deal with one.” The merc tilted his head at
the multiple monitors.

“Ah, right. Can do you one better, actually.” All of the screens went dark, while an in-ceiling
projector lit up instead. A moment later, rockerboy’s life-size projection stood in the middle of the
room, a digital cigarette already lit up between his fingers.

“Gonna get straight to the point,” the rocker leant against one of the tables, “we found Vesper
Lynd for you. Filled her in on your situation and all that. She agreed to help you out, for a favour.”

“She wants us to find her brother, doesn’t she?” Panam interjected.

“How’d you know?” Johnny seemed genuinely surprised, and somewhat disappointed he was
robbed of a big reveal opportunity.

“Met him. He wants the same thing. And, apparently, without him our whole plan to clone V is
useless.” The nomad clearly enjoyed the part where she was more in the know than a Rogue AI.
“We’ve got a lead on her, too. Shook it out of a local crime boss.”

She then proceeded to recount the info that Gideon had parted with before his - very timely and
very deserved - demise.

“You are definitely onto something here,” Johnny nodded. “The cocksucker had all the reason to
lie to you, but this info checks out with what we’ve dug up as well.”

“Don’t you know how to get in touch with Vesper already?” V looked somewhat confused, and
understandably so.

“Yeah, but it’s tricky. We know where her lab is and how to get there digitally, but she insisted we
reach her ‘properly’. We’ll also need a stand-in client to keep your involvement under the radar,
given Militech will be watching closely.”

“You know about that?” V raised an eyebrow.

“About what? That Militech had been eyeing Lynd’s operations for a while now?” Rockerboy
looked confused.

“Oh… no, not that.” V chuckled before proceeding to tell about the ordeal that landed him as a
guardian for Violet, and a target-numero-uno for Militech.

“Shit, son. You’ve got a talent for getting into unnecessary shit, doncha?” Rockerboy whistled,
sounding more impressed than anything else.

“You know it,” the merc laughed. “But hey, where is the fun in life otherwise?”

“So… what now?”

“We need to find a customer first, and I think I have just the guy!”

——
Johnny was wrapping up his elaborate, if overly long description of their potential target when V
got a high priority notification pop up on his holo. The message was heavily encrypted, which
could only mean one sender - Hanako.

[ Can we talk? As soon as possible. ]

‘No time like the present,’ the merc smirked to himself as he proceeded to dial the Arasaka CEO on
her personal number that only four people in the world had access to. The man had terrible memory
for phone numbers, so the all-important contact was tagged under ‘Kevin’ in his contact list.

“V. Thank you for calling me so promptly.” Hanako still used very formal greetings which were a
deeply ingrained habit by that point. She’d normally switch to a more friendly tone later into a
conversation when she remembered she was talking to someone who could be considered a friend.

“No probs,” V, in turn, had no reservations about being casual with the woman from the get-go.

“I am afraid my condition is worsening at an accelerated pace. The fact that the chip was built to be
compatible with Arasaka family DNA turned from a boon to a hindrance.”

“Ah, shit. I am sorry.” He really meant it. In fact, V was likely the only person in the entire world
who could truly sympathise with Hanako’s condition, something he didn’t realised and took very
seriously.

“I appreciate it. Are you making progress?”

“I am indeed!” He relaid the latest news, including info on Charles Lynd and their plans of how to
proceed.

“This is good news, truly.” Hanako cracked a rare smile. “But not quite the time to celebrate yet.”

“Oh, totally.” V smiled back in a moment of mutual understanding. “Actually, about that executive
of yours that Johnny wants to use as our ‘cient’…”

“You can have full access to his data, including security info for the Arasaka accommodation he is
provided with. I will fetch it for you personally to avoid any questions.” Arasaka CEO didn’t wait
for the merc to ask for the favour formally before committing to it.

“Thanks! I could break in, but you know…” The merc felt almost sheepish at the admission.

“I understand. You’ve done plenty of necessary, but significant damage to Arasaka systems
already.” Hanako had clearly realised how her response sounded as soon as it left her lips, as she
cringed at herself. “I apologise, it sounded like an accusation which it wasn’t my intention.”

“Your help secured Arasaka’s future, my future. I am eternally grateful for that.”

“Is there anything else?” The ‘Saka heiress coughed as she attempted to quickly move on.

“About NetLink…” V started without a clear idea what his ask could actually be on that front.
Luckily, Hanako guessed what he intended yet again.

“My hands are tied there, for now. Can’t risk an open corporate confrontation.” Her apologetic
expression signalled that she wished she could help, but truly couldn’t. “But I will assign some
intelligence resource to get the specs of the facility you mentioned. I hope that will be of use, at
least.”

“That’ll be preem, thanks Hanako!”

“How’s Goro by the way?”

“Still feels very bad about slowly killing me,” Hanako laughed. “Our childhood memories started
to bleed into each other last night…”

She looked away from the screen for a while, likely recalling some of the details from a life that
wasn’t hers, but felt like it. A sensation V knew a bit too well.

“I knew of his early life, but experiencing it firsthad was a shock…”

“Can imagine…” There wasn’t much V could say to ease the situation Hanako was in, but he
hoped having someone to talk to who could understand her was helpful.

Johnny and V never spoke of it, but rockerboy’s wartime memories had left a mark on V too,
almost as much as they did on the man who actually lived them. The merc inherited some vicious
dreams as the result of it. The first month after the memories suddenly entered his brain, like a
bunch of unwelcomed party crashers, was particularly bad. Even after the pair got separated by Alt,
V would wake up in cold swear after dreams of levelled settlements and toppled skyscrapers.
“V? Everything okay?” Hanako looked worried. He must have silently looked into nothing for
quite a while.

“Yes, yes. Sorry. Just remembered something of Johnny’s.”

“I have to go now, but I am very pleased you are doing well.” Hanako waved someone off,
probably an assistant reminding of her next meeting. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you
need anything else.”

“Definitely. Take care, Hanako.”

“Oh and last thing, V.” She reached out to close the call before changing her mind suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Business may bring me to London soon. I hope you won’t mind sparing an evening to have dinner
with Mitsuha?”

“With who?” It took V a moment to realise Hanako was talking about her incognito persona, same
one that she used to attend his and Panam’s wedding. “Ah! Yes, of course. Just let me know when.
Panam will be glad to see you too, I bet.”

The CEO let out a short micheiveous giggle, satisfied with the minor confusion she had caused.
“Splendid. In that case, see you soon, V.”

“Cya!”

“Who was that?” Panam stepped from behind V, her hand reaching in the back and resting across
his lower back.

“Hanako. Se’s gonna help us out with the deets on the ‘Saka exec.” V reciprocated with wrapping
his hand around his wife’s back.
 “Good. Less need for you to hack into their systems.”

“That’s exactly what she said too,” V laughed.

“How’s she, with the Relic and all?”

“Worse, but holding up.”

“So…” Panam’s face suddenly changed to that of pure mischief. She clearly had some sort of
cunning plan. “Are you finally gonna show me where you been living this whole time? Henry tells
me this is a hotel with only one room, so I expect it to be quite special.”

“Oh yeah, it’s pretty great. Just up here.” V pulled on her to follow him upstairs.

“Great, we won’t be getting any noise complaints then!” The nomad gave her man a sly wink
before running up the stairs in a clear sign of eagerness for what was to come.

Chapter End Notes

So the good news is that I have the next 5 chapters planned, including an exciting one
that I wrote ages ago but didn’t know where it would fit into the narrative. Well, now I
do know so it’s coming soon-ish.

I’ll aim for at least one chapter per month, or more so next update will come sooner.

Let me know what you thought!

 Fair Trades
Chapter Summary

V has not one but two interesting encounters in one night. One will bring him closer to
the cure and the other will be simply a very profitable, if weird, gig.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Raye Penber was annoyed. What had to be so bloody urgent that he got called in for an in-person
meeting across the Atlantic with zero advance notice? If he didn’t have med staff on a 24/7
retainer, this could’ve been a disaster.

To make things worse, his boss had little to contribute in terms of context, leaving Arasaka’s VP of
Armament Ops puzzled as to why he had to fly all the way to London.

“No clue why, but apparently it can’t go on without you.” The boss’s explanation offered little in
terms of comfort or additional info. If anything, Raye realised that his boss was as much of a pawn
in this particular circumstance as he himself had been for the past two years.

Then again, it was Arasaka Corporation they were talking about. Everyone was ultimately at the
whim of the founding family which ruled the megacorp with absolute authority. Family that lately
had been reduced to only two members. Surprisingly, that fact did not affect the grip that the
Arasakas had on their company. If anything, through a series of reforms that were unthinkable
under her father, Hanako Arasaka had only consolidated her position in the company. Fact that her
batshit crazy brother had most of the clan heads murdered certainly helped.

‘Was Hanako herself involved in getting me here?’ Raye wondered before laughing at the
ridiculousness of his own thoughts.

Hanako or not, this unplanned trip didn’t sit well with Penber. He hated leaving Maddy for too
long. It didn’t matter if she had a whole rota of carers, nurses and doctors minding her around the
clock. In the end, they weren’t family.

His thoughts firmly fixated on his young daughter, Raye dropped off his suitcase in the suite,
chucked the coat on the bed and headed back downstairs.

‘May as well make use of that generous business expenses policy…’

It was quite late and in the middle of the week, so the bar was borderline abandoned. Only other
patron was one guy sitting at the bar. He definitely wasn’t a corpo, his scuffed leather jacket and
ripped jeans said as much.

Partial to sitting at the bar himself, Raye perched two stools away from the guy.

“Manhattan on rye, please,” he asked the bartender even before the guy could bring him a menu.

“Make it two!” The other guest added enthusiastically, which surprised Raye a bit, given his order
was rather… old fashioned. Either this guy knew his drinks, or was trying to look more
sophisticated in front of a stranger.

Non-corpos seemed weird to Raye Penber. A career climber all his life, he struggled to understand
these people. They lived their lives outside of the rigidly structured existence of a corporate
employee, which felt like chaos to the Arasaka executive. In this world the only reasonable way to
get ahead in life was to work for a megacorp and those who didn’t, Raye saw as simply incapable
to do so. Those thoughts usually got followed up by a jolt of guilt for judging people prematurely.
Same happened in this instance as well.

‘Maybe he’s just in his off-duty clothes.’ After all, how could he get into Arasaka hotel if he wasn’t
somehow affiliated with the megacorp.

“Cheers!” Unaware of Raye’s internal conversations with himself, the leather jacket raised his
glass in Penber’s direction. He seemed genuinely friendly.

“Cheers.” Arasaka VP returned the gesture with his own glass.

“You know your drinks, mister.” The man declared after taking a sip. “I’m Vincent, by the way.”

“Raye.” He reached across to shake the other man’s outstretched hand. It took a bit of an awkward
stretch given the distance between them. The exec still haven’t decided whether he was in a mood
to talk to a stranger, but this guy seemed very pleasant. Either way, the politeness that was honed
over the decades of corpo work was now almost DNA-deep. There was no way in hell Raye would
misrepresent Arasaka by being rude to a patron of one of their establishments. Worst case scenario,
he’d just make up an excuse to go back to the room and order cocktails there. Viva La Arasaka
Expense Policy!

“Please tell me if I’m bothering you.” Shockingly, the leather jacket guessed what Raye was
musing about and addressed it head on. “Just feel too awkward to sit here in silence and not
introduce myself. Especially as we are the only two people here.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.” Stranger’s honest and self-aware attitude helped Raye decide
on what route to take. “It’s kinda nice, actually.”

“Usually when a stranger approaches you, they want something from you.”

“Nothing wanted here, honest.” Vincent raised his hands in the air with palms open - an
international sign of honest intentions. With that, he leant forward and shifted one seat to his right -
close enough for a conversation, but leaving one space between them. His etiquete was on point,
that was certain.

“You are an Arasaka, aren’t you?”

“I am indeed,” Raye admitted with pride.

“What brings you to London?”

Arasaka had a very strict non-disclosure policy, but ‘hey, what’s the harm?’ Raye thought. His
drinking buddy was honest with him, it was worth returning the gesture.

“To be honest - no idea. Just got called in last minute with little explanation given.” Penber
chuckled awkwardly at the absurdity of the situation. “So I hope to find out tomorrow.”

“Ahh,” the guy nodded with understanding. “Know what you mean. I hated when my bosses would
pull that bullshit on me when I was at Arasaka. Not like I could do anything about it, anyway.”

“You are ex-Arasaka?!” Not able to cover his surprise, Raye turned around so swiftly that he
almost spilled some of his drink. How was that even possible? Nobody - as far as the executive
knew - would leave Arasaka Corporation out of their own will. It was almost always due to a
fuckup or poor performance review. He couldn’t even think of someone like that since his work
circle consisted exclusively of high-performing individuals. Circle of Winners they called
themselves.

Suddenly, this man turned from merely entertaining to utterly fascinating. It was like that time
Raye took the kids to Arasaka private zoo where they saw real iguanas, amongst other animals.

“Yeah. But it’s been quite a long time since I left.”

“What happened??” Raye was suddenly aware how rude his borderline aggressive inquisitiveness
was. In his curiosity he completely forgot to consider if this guy would like to talk about his
experience. It must have been traumatic - the thought of being kicked out of Arasaka was a
horrifying one. “Sorry… If you don’t mind talking about it, of course.”
“Not at all. I know it’s unusual to see a happy and alive ex-Arasaka.” Vincent laughed. “My boss
lost a game of office chairs, so to say.”

To the uninitiated this could sound like a measely, evasive answer, but Penber knew better. He
knew all too well what could happen if you made political gambles and lost. The reason he didn’t
know any ex-Arasakas wasn’t because nobody was terminated, but exactly because they were
terminated in quite a literal manner. One of the most dramatic downfalls in memory was that of
Arthur Jenkins from counterintelligence. His entire team got zeroed as a result.

“I’m sorry.” There wasn’t much one could say in such a situation, but this guy seemed pretty happy
with himself at the moment, which begged another question. “So what do you do now?”

“I’m a contractor.”

“So like a consultant?”

“You can call it that, yeah,” Vincent chuckled.

“So in London on business too, then?”

“Yeah, although gotta say I’ve got to enjoy the city as well.”

“Nice! Not sure I’ll be able to. Got to come back home as soon as possible.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. But if you do, you gotta try this bar.” The man’s eyes flashed blue as he
initiated a data transfer.

Raye’s cyberdeck immediately triggered an invasive daemon scan. After the report came back
clean, he accepted the request.

“Nice, thank you!” The place looked great indeed - glowing reviews, cool photos, and so on.

The pair proceeded to chat about this and that, shared stories of how shitty Arasaka internship was
for both of them, how ridiculous some of the entry test questions were and about life of a devoted
corpo employee.

Two drinks later, Vincent apologised for leaving, blaming it on a massive jetlag and excused
himself. He paid with a digital transfer and left, but not before he gave Raye a final handshake.

‘Hmm, what a nice guy.’ This encounter was a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.

Raye had another drink by himself and decided to call it a day as well.

The alcohol started to kick in on his way up, proving that decision to leave when he did was the
right one. The Arasaka exec kicked his shoes off as soon as he got into the room, hung his tie on
one of the coat hooks and only then turned the light on.

As the room got illuminated, a sudden presence of a man startled Raye to such extent that he
stumbled back a few steps. In an armachair in one of the corners of the suite sat Vincent, his
drinking companion from downstairs. In his hands was a datapad with Arasaka logo on it - the
same one that Penber brought with him.

“How the fuck did you get in here?!” Such rude intrusion allowed for all niceties to be dispersed.
“What are you doing with my datapad?!”

The device was meant to have triple-layer authentication, tampering controls and about a dozen
other security features.

“Relax, please.” The intruder’s tone was very calm. “I ain’t here to rob you, or kill you or, even
better, not gonna get you fired.”

“I just need you to do something for me.”

“So you did want something in the end.” Raye rubbed his temples in frustration. If alcohol wasn’t
giving him the headache, this conversation surely was. “Why the fuck did you take all that time to
talk to me back there?”

“You were a pretty chill dude, no other reason. I enjoyed sharing drinks with ya.” Man’s tone
switched to a much more street-speak heavy one. “Oh and I needed to get into your head to get the
password to this.” He wobbled the tablet.
“But I’ve checked the transmission…”

“You think I don’t know how to circumvent ‘Saka standard security protocols?” Vincent smirked
smugly. In fact, being able to do so was one hell of an achievement for any hacker. This guy was
no amateur.

“Anyway… I need you to access this website for me.” He typed something into the tablet and
turned it over for Raye to take. The exec had to cross the room with unsure steps to take it.

“What the hell is this?” On the screen was some sort of user-generated fiction website with a
registration form for a new user.

“It’s a front for a cloning clinic. I need you to write up the story of your daughter and request a
clone of hers.”

“How did you know about Maddy?!!” All of this invasion of privacy and deceit was nothing
compared to any hint of threat to his sick child. Raye didn’t care if this guy was dangerous, he’d
fight tooth and nail to protect his daughter.

“Relax. If all goes well you’ll get a perfectly healthy clone of hers in the process that her mind can
be transferred to.”

“You’re talking nonsense. This technology doesn’t exist.” Nonetheless, even a mention of a
potential cure was enough to calm the Arasaka exec down.

“Ohh, but it does. Believe me.” Vincent nodded. “Luckily for both of us, I guess.”

‘You better not give me false hope…’ Raye thought to himself. His daughter had the rotten luck of
being born with one of the few genetic diseases that modern medicine still couldn’t cure. It wasn’t
a question of means - that wasn’t a problem. There simply wasn’t anything anyone could do to
address the issue of Maddy’s own body trying to kill itself. She currently lived in a fully isolated
from the outer world clean room that was constructed especially for her in Raye’s penthouse. It
was only two of them, besides an army of hired help, as the mother left as soon as they heard the
dooming verdict.

In the beginning, Madelyn was given 12 years to live. She was now 6 months away from her
twelth birthday. Raye exhausted all options.

“I don’t know what sort of fucked up game you are playing here, but if you are lying to me…”
“I’m not,” Vincent cut him off, “no reason to.”

“Besides, there isn’t much you can threaten me with that someone else, much more powerful than
you, haven’t already tried.”

Raye believed that statement without a doubt. And that was somehow terrifying to him. “Alright
then. But how does that help you in any way? Can’t you just apply yourself?”

“Let’s just say the person that decides who lives or who dies has a soft spot.”

“Her name’s Vesper. If chosen, which I am pretty certain of, her people will contact you with more
details. I now know everything that happens on this pad so I’ll know when she does.”

“What do you need her for anyway?” It was a naive question, but one Raye had to ask. Obviously
creating copies of oneself meant immortality - something no amount of money or power could
attain. You didn’t need any other reason to seek it.

“Your daughter isn’t the only terminally ill person in town.” Vincent smiled, but that smile was
filled with sadness.

So it was out of need as well, not ambition. Something Raye could certainly sympathise with. This
man managed to grow on him yet again, despite breaking into his life through lies and deceit.

“Fine.” Penber nodded after some consideration. “I’ll help you. But I have one condition.”

“Oh?” The other man was clearly surprised, even amused by the sudden request.”

“When you get to meet this Vesper woman, you make damn sure Maddy gets her chance too.”
Raye didn’t realise he was clinching his fists until that moment. “Money isn’t an object.”

“You might not realise how much this will cost.” Vincent laughed. “But sure. You got a deal.
Although it will still be up to Vesper in the end.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Raye extended his hand first this time. A handshake was a sign of a
deal sealed. Vincent stood up and took his hand in a firm grip.
“Thank you, Raye.” Somehow, despite everything that had happened, it was clear that this strange
man was sincere.

Vincent then left without saying another word.

‘What the fuck just happened?!’ Raye just stood there, in the middle of his hotel suite, his datapad
held absent-mindedly in his hands.

When the confusion spell had finally lifted he sat down, ordered three cocktails at once and set to
fill out the ‘user registration form’.

——

Hanako really delivered when it came to providing an opportunity to talk to Raye Penber in private.
The bar was completely cleared save for one bartender. Having direct access to the head of the
megacorp had proven to be a very useful connection. V could hear Johnny scoffing all the way
from the other side of the Blackwall over the man’s corpo fraternising.

As much as he prefered not to, V had to use his full name in the conversation. He felt like being
honest with the man and using a one-letter nickname would’ve raised suspicions. Even worse, he
could be recognised. The drawbacks of fame…

Raye Penber seemed like a nice guy. Polite, not too stuck up. Most ‘Saka execs V knew, or corpo
execs in general, would’ve turned their nose at someone clearly not on their level or higher. Not
this guy. He readily engaged in conversation and even let V send him a file at the end of the night.
That significantly simplified breaking into his room and datapad.

As the merc sat on the couch in darkness and fiddled with the tablet, he recalled the profile of the
man he was about to rope into his scheme. V felt for the man, truly. Just imagining someone dear
to him - let alone a child - being this sick… The merc shook his head to clear the disturbing
thoughts out of his mind.

‘Voila!’ He got full access to all systems now, courtesy of the daemon that was lodged in Raye’s
cyberdeck while the man blissfully sipped on another drink.

V ensured that Madelyn’s - or Maddy’s, as she was referred to in most messages and notes -
medical records were hidden and secured just enough to seem legit, but not too secure. He needed
Vesper’s team to be able to access them when they did their due diligence.

The showdown itself went surprisingly well. The merc wasn’t particularly thrilled about promising
Raye what he couldn’t guarantee, but he didn’t really have another choice.
‘What is another clone, right?’ V mused as he took the elevator down. ‘She’s a child on top of that,
less material to make. Wait, is that even how clones work?’

He didn't get to finish his line of thought because the holo rang with a new message from a curious
contact. It came from Rothschild, or his butler to be exact. The man himself simply refused to
touch technology directly it seemed.

[ V, I hope this message finds you in good health and spirit. Lord Rothchild requires your services.
Please come to the residence at your earliest convenience. Regards, Harold. ]

‘Interesting. Good timing though, as I have to wait for Vesper to bite anyway.’

——

“V! It’s splendid to see you!” Despite the late hour, the man of the house was wide awake and full
of energy. “Drink? The usual?”

“Good to see you. Yes please.” There was no way in hell V would pass up an opportunity to savour
more of that whiskey.

Within a couple of minutes, the pair had their drinks served and settled in luxurious armchairs
across from each other.

“So… how can I help, Archie?”

“Hah!” The lord exclaimed with excitement. “This is why I like you, V. You are one of very few
people who actually use the name I asked you to call me.”

“Everyone else is too proper, or nervous, or else. So they keep using Archibald or,” he shuddered
in an exaggerated manner, “Lord Rothschild.”

“Anyway,” he patted the hand rest of the chair in excitement, “I’m sure you are a busy man, so I’ll
get straight to the point. You see, I have a bit of a problem. I hope you don’t mind a bit of a history
lesson of my family? I promise it will be relevant to this and will bring more sense to what I am
about to ask of you.”
“Sure,” the merc nodded. This was promising to be entertaining.

“My family had a stake in London for over a century, but we also had many other investments.
Most done purely for business reasons, but there was one made out of love. We owned a set of
vineyards in what used to be France. Chateau Rothschild they were called. Very creative, I know.”
He laughed at his own joke, which wasn’t even that good but man’s natural charm was infectious.
V couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“These vineyards are no more, so the wine is very rare. My family had spent considerable time and
resources to reclaim as much of it as possible.”

“Firstly, for legacy reasons, of course. But it also happens to be damn good wine.”

“But not to bore you too much with my tales… Some people who own the wine were notoriously
hard to convince to sell it. Yet, with most of them we’ve managed to come to an agreement. All
except one person, in fact. He also happens to hold a case of six bottles from 2002, my birth year.”

‘This guy’s in his 70s?!’ Nevermind the ridiculous wine story, this was the more surprising
revelation. Archie looked not much older than 40. Guess when you were this rich, you could
extend your life quite considerably. ‘Wonder if he’d be interested in getting cloned. Not that I am
offering…’

“You can see how that particular wine is sentimentally important to me?” Unaware of V’s internal
musings, Archibald continued with his tale.

“Yep, I see where this is going now.”

“As you may have gathered, my ask will be to procure that case through whichever means
necessary.”

“Will you even drink the wine, or just store it as another ‘investment’?” It wasn’t his place to probe
his client’s intentions, but V felt like this question would bug him for a while if he didn’t ask it.

“Of course I’ll drink it! Probably on special occasions, but nonetheless yes. Wine is made to be
drunk, not rot away in sealed cellars.”

“Okay. Have you got any leads? Where do I start?”

“Not much, unfortunately. The man is an avid, but paranoid collector. I can provide you with his
details and access to my database, but you’ll need to locate where he stores the bottles yourself.”

“That’s fine.” V had to deal with less before and this sounded like a fun treasure hunt.

“And V, as a motivator,” Archie smiled, clearly happy with the proposition he was about to make,
“on top of the fee that will reflect the difficulty and importance of this task, I would love to have
you and a guest of your choosing to join me for dinner where we’ll open one of those bottles.”

“If retrieving them isn’t a special occasion, I am not sure what is.”

‘What an odd guy.’ V smiled back. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Archie.”

“But I gotta ask, and I apologise if it is rude of me. What is the scale of my fee, exactly?”

“Of course, of course! It’s a very fair question. You are a professional, after all. Harold!”
Rothschild waved at the butler who quickly approached with pen and paper at the ready.

The lord took the writing instruments with a courteous nod, scribbled something quickly and
passed it back to V.

The merc glanced at the slip and almost choked on his whiskey. “That will certainly do.”

“I thought it might.”

——

“HOW MUCH?!!” Panam almost dropped what she had in her hands when he got back to the hotel
and told her.

“Yup.” V could only stand there smiling like an idiot.

“Ten mil for a case of wine?!”

“Yup.”
“When do we start?!” The nomad suddenly started to dart around the room, getting ready for a
mission.

“We?”

“You think I’m gonna pass on this madness of a goose chase?” Panam looked at the man as if he
just asked the world’s dumbest question.

“Me too, me too!” Violet, attracted by all the commotion, snuck into the room without either adults
realising.

“Fine.” At first sight, this was promising to be a safe mission and the young woman was dying
from boredom lately.

“In that case I demand thirty-three percent as I will be doing a third of the work.” The girl crossed
her arms to signal she was firm on her request.

“In your wildest dreams,” V laughed. “One mil if you are helpful. Take it or leave it.”

“Really?!” Violet’s reaction betrayed the fact that she didn’t expect for her request to be granted in
any shape or form.

“Yeah, why not. It’s only fair you get something if you help.”

“Yay! You are the best, V.” She rushed towards the merc at immense speed granted by her
extensive cyberware. Before he could react, she was already gripping him in a tight hug.

“Sure, sure.” The man was at a loss as to how to react to that. He looked at Panam for guidance but
his wife only chuckled and snapped a photo of the pair instead.

“Okay you two, let’s get ready. You have a bio on the guy we are meant to rob, right?”
Chapter End Notes

This was a bit of a divergence from the main story, but we have the trio doing a gig
together in the next!

I recon there are about ~15ish more chapters to go, so we are about halfway now.
 Hedonism I
Chapter Summary

To get their huge payday, V and Panam have to join a very exclusive dinner. In the
meantime, Violet is the only one who can pull of the main part of the heist.

Chapter Notes

Firstly, apologies for the delay - I’ve tried to do this chapter in one go but as it
approached double of what the size of a chapter for this usually is, I’ve decided to split
it to get an update in sooner and give myself time to flesh out the second half.

Enjoy the read!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Panam’s initial enthusiasm had to be put on hold for a while, because the bio V had on their target
was rather… ‘limited’, according to his own admission.

“Limited? Do you mean ‘there’s fuck-all here’?” Panam stared at the datapad with a raised
eyebrow.

“Well, we know he’s a recluse and a privacy nut.” V tried to see the situation in a more positive
light.

“You’re definitely right on that one.” The nomad threw her free hand up in the air in frustration.
“No known place of residence, no known associates… Even his assets are tangled in a web of shell
companies that have their own shell companies!”

“Not that reclusive, it appears.” Violet just came out of a trance-like state of accessing the deep
Net.

“How you mean?” Both adults turned to the young girl.

“He apparently owns this restaurant.” With another brief flash of her eyes she sent the info to their
datapads. “Special dining package means you get an intro to the owner.”

“Ten large per person for the chef’s table?!” Panam yelled at the screen. “What are they gonna
serve? Meat from extinct species?! Golden goose eggs?!”

“I don’t know about the golden eggs, but pate seems to be a possibility.” V turned his own tablet
over to show photos of previous dishes. “But seriously, though. This might be our chance.”

“Alright then.” Panam adopted her ‘planning’ face. “Get me everything you have on this place. I
trust between the two of you it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Way ahead of you,” Violet smirked. “Here are the blueprints, their tax records, receivables
manifesto and full staff payroll.”

“You are scary sometimes, you know that?” V could only stare at the impressive teenager wide-
eyed, truly shocked by how quick-witted and efficient she was. This trait didn’t come from any
cyberware - it was all her.

“Great work, Vi.” Panam ruffled the young girl’s hair which was taken surprisingly well. “Ok,
let’s have a look at what we can dig up from all of this then. First one to find something good gets
a chocolate bar.”

“It usually was beer!” V protested.

“Well, Vi can’t have that now, can she?” Nomad’s tone was scolding.

“Yay, chocolate!” Oblivious to the adults’ small disagreement, Violet reclined back in her chair
and dove back into the Net.

——

Funnily enough, V was the one to score the sweet price in the end. Best part was that it came not
from all the documents Violet had dug up, but through his attempt to book the ridiculously
expensive dining experience.
“Hey, hey. Look at this!” He gestured for the other two to come over urgently. In his excitement,
he almost let the datapad slip out of his grip.

“What am I looking at?” Panam leant over V’s side to see better. Her chin rested cosily on his
shoulder.

“They claim to have over ten thousand wine varieties deliverable to the restaurant in twenty
minutes or less.” The merc pointed at the right line on the website. “There’s no way they have all
of that sitting right under the building.”

“But where’d it be then?” Panam’s expression signalled she still didn’t follow.

“This makes sense now!” Violet suddenly jumped and rushed back for her own data pad. “I was
wondering what this part of the basement was!”

She pointed at a little tunnel that sort of just ended in a hashed line and didn’t lead anywhere.

“This must be a tunnel to the bigger storage space.”

“Wait! I might’ve seen something else in the financial records!” Panam also sprung into action.

“Damn where was it…. where was it…” She furiously scrolled through some very long document.
“Ah! There it is!”

“Here.” It was her turn to point at something on the screen. “Replacement parts for a magnetic rail
system including a few carriage parts.”

“So it’s a maglev tunnel they have running underground.” V rubbed his chin, trying to contemplate
the whole picture. “Those measurements are quite small though.”

“I guess they don’t send people down it, just bottles.”

“Is that a problem?” Violet looked at the two adults who suddenly turned pensive.

“Means it might not have air supply, and it’s too small for someone to fit in.” V grew more
concerned the more he considered the implications of the latest revelation.
“Even a child?” Violet inquired.

“Oh! That could actually-“

“No!” V didn’t get to finish his thought as Panam interrupted. “We ain’t sending her into fuck-
knows-where by herself.”

“I don’t like it either, but it’s just a wine cellar.” V shook his head as an accentuation of his words.
“Of course if Violet doesn’t want to, we’ll find another way.”

“I’ve run black ops in West Africa, you know.” Violet looked at the pair as if they were talking
nonsense all this time. “Who do you think assassinated the dictator of New Philippines?”

“You what??” Panam and V cried out in unison. V almost dropped his datapad for the second time.
Violet just shrugged in response, as if what she’d just admitted to wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Fine, but you have to stay on comms with us for the whole time, young lady!” Still half-concussed
with shock, Panam pointed a stern finger at the teenager.

“Promise!” Violet beamed at the nomad. “So I get to ride the magnet train and steal the case?!”

“Yes, yes.” Panam rubbed her temples, as if fighting off an impending headache. “Guess we have
to book the damn chef’s table now…”

V was way ahead of her on that.

“Aaand booked us in for Thursday, seven p.m.!” He proclaimed after an exaggerated final tap on
the screen. “I hope you’ve brought one of your fancy jumpsuits, Pan.”

——

“Alright team, we ready?” Dressed in a brand-new navy suit picked up right off Savile Row, V
turned to his two partners in crime.
Panam did not plan to need such clothing, so her outfit was also brand new. In her usual fashion, it
was another jumpsuit. This time it was modelled after vintage safari jackets and could be mistaken
for a pantsuit when she sat down. It was practical, too. Plenty of pockets and all cuffs were
hemmed so they wouldn’t get caught in anything if she needed to climb or run. Her hair was still
up, but she let it drop on her back rather than tying it in the usual high bun.

Violet was also clad in everything new, mainly because she barely had any clothes to begin with.
Getting a wardrobe of her own was long overdue. Her outfit for the day was a muted suit to go with
her ‘assistant to a wealthy American couple’ alias that they were going with. The ‘party piece’
wasn’t what was visible, though. Underneath the conservative getup was a custom-fit catsuit laced
with stealth tech that would help her get unnoticed by cameras and alarms. That was, in fact, by far
the most expensive outfit of all of them. Henry had to call in a favour to get it sourced, something
he was generously compensated for.

“Ok, Vi. Quickly in, find the case, quickly out. No heroics! You come into any danger, you delta
right outta there and that’s it. We can always try something else.” Panam’s tone and facial
expression showed genuine concern for the girl. V had never seen her like this, even with her
nomad family she cared lots for. Perhaps the last time he’d seen her so worried was when it came
to Ciri, and even then he was the one who was more concerned.

“Got it. I’ll stay out of danger, promise.” Violet nodded eagerly, clearly impatient to get into the
fray.

“Still can’t believe you’ll be doing all the work while we sit there and eat fancy food…” The
nomad rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Not your fault I am small and you are not.” The teenager smiled softly, an expression that seemed
to have melted Panam’s heart on the spot.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

——

The restaurant had more security than a Militech outpost. Beside the suit-clad security guards
brandishing SMGs and all sorts of cybernetics, there were scanners, turrets and a few dozen
cameras, just for the entrance hall.
“Welcome, messir Welles, madame Welles.” The maître d’ bowed as they approached the front
desk. “My apologies, but we were not notified that you will have a third guest with you.”

“Ah, that’s just Kelly, our assistant.” V had decided he will be a nonchalant kind of rich guy. Why
be bothered with earthly worries when you have enough money for everything under the sun? “She
just needs to use the bathroom, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, yes. Of course. Edgar!” The man snapped his fingers at one of the runners rushing by.
“Please show this lady to the bathroom.”

“Of course, sir.” Edgar nodded at his superior before turning to VIolet, aka Kelly. “Miss, please
follow me.”

Violet disappeared with him behind a corner.

“Our esteemed guests, please follow me.” The host gestured in the opposite direction, towards a
narrow corridor. V and Panam let him pass before following.

They had to make two sharp turns before they finally arrived at the room they were to dine in that
evening. This was no ordinary dining room either. Instead of tables, there was one low bar counter
with a full-fledged kitchen on the other side. There were only eight seats and two of them were
already filled.

“Please.” The host pulled up one of the chairs for Panam. V had to do it himself.

“I hope you enjoy yourselves tonight.” The maître d’ bowed twice more before retreating out of the
room.

They didn’t need to wait long for someone else to take over serving them. No more than a minute
later another waiter, dressed in a similar uniform as Edgar from earlier, approached with
complimentary still or sparkling bottled water.

‘For ten grand they better roll out a Fountain of Youth over here,’ Panam couldn’t help but regard
the freebie with a healthy dose of cynicism.

Panam and V were sitting on the opposite end of the bar from the couple that had arrived before
them. They were dressed in very old-fashioned clothes, the kind that wouldn’t look out of place at
The Savoy hotel back in its heyday. Both the man and the woman were older, perhaps in their
sixties. Although, who could really tell with the rich? They could be over a hundred and pumped of
life-prolonging chems for all one knew. The woman had a comically tiny hat pinned to one side of
her elaborate hairdo, with a deep purple feather sticking from its side. Something told Panam the
feather came from a real bird.

Panam’s observations of their neighbours were interrupted by the arrival of yet another waiter. This
time, it was a she and her name tag said ‘Vanessa’. Vanessa carried an elaborate basket covered by
a white cloth. She approached the other pair first. When the cloth was lifted, neatly stacked slices
of bread were revealed. They came in all sorts - there was one set where there were more holes
than bread, another with some green bits inside, and another that was crimson-red in colour. Given
shortages of any sort of wheat - real or otherwise - bread wasn’t a common thing around West
Coast NUSA, so seeing an abundance of it was quite a shock. Quick glance back at V showed that
he was as surprised as Panam was. They both watched as the older couple carefully selected their
pieces that were then placed on tiny side plates by the server. She didn’t even use her hands, but
silver tongs that left a quiet click as they collided with the porcelain. The last addition was an even
tinier plate with a round bar of something creamy-looking on top. Panam guessed it must’ve been
butter.

‘Who on earth has bread and butter before a meal these days?’

It then came their turn. Vanessa approached, the cloth got lifted and they had to make a selection
of what bread they wanted.

“Sourdough, olive, or tomato and chilli?” Server pointed out each type before freezing in place as
she awaited the response.

“Tomato and chilli sounds good.” V didn’t hesitate much. He had a bit more experience with posh
restaurants and rich clientele, so this was a bit less of an intimidating environment for him. If
someone offered Panam a ‘sour dough’ in the Badlands, she’d think they were playing some sort
of prank on her.

“Same for me, please.” She forced a polite smile.

Pieces of bread landed on their respective side plates and Vanessa retreated with a bow.

Confused as to what to do next with her piece of bread, the nomad glanced at their neighbours. The
posh pair took their pieces and gently broke them into two. Holding bread in one hand, they slowly
brushed butter on top of them with a small knife that accompanied the side plate.

Panam glanced back at V, who had also spied what was to be done and was already smothering his
piece. She followed suit, trying as hard as possible to be graceful while doing it. ‘If somebody told
me I’d need to be graceful buttering bread…’

Any frustrations melted away in an instant when Panam took a bite. The crust gave a satisfying
crunch as she bit into it and the creamy, soft texture of lightly salted butter. The initial sensation
was followed by an umami taste of tomato - a real tomato, not the synth paste crap she was used to
- and a gentle tingle of chilli.

“Bvhoody Hell” The nomad mumbled while still savouring the heavenly carb. “Itsh shooo
ghood!”

One look at V told her the man was in about the same bread-and-butter nirvana as she was. In her
excitement, Panam decided to also check up if the food had the same effect on their guests, but
those instead glared at the duo with the same expression one stares at monkeys in the zoo that had
discovered bananas exist. Seeing that Panam was looking, the pair quickly turned away, pretending
to be engaged in a riveting conversation.

‘Snobs,’ Aldecaldo scoffed to herself. However, the initial thrill was ruined and she was now very
self conscious about everything she did. She hated feeling out of place and out of all the times it
had happened before, nothing was quite as stark as this. A thought of these two old aristocrats
trying to work an engine of a Thornton in the middle of the desert brought some solace and
amusement to Panam. She’d much rather be good at being a nomad, than being good at eating
bread.

“Hey,” V whispered to her gently, “who cares what they think. We are all here, eating the same
food. Let’s enjoy ourselves as much as we can.”

‘Damn you and your ability to look right into my heart!’ Despite anger at being ogled the way she
was, V’s words calmed Panam down.

“Okay,” she whispered back with a smile and reached to give V a quick peck on the cheek. This
might’ve been against dinner etiquette too, but she didn’t care anymore.

She was about to say something else, when the kitchen suddenly filled with commotion as multiple
people in white uniforms filled different stations. One man stood out from the rest as his jacket
was deep royal blue instead.

“Welcome, our esteemed guests!” The blue jacket announciated. “We are exceptionally happy to
have you dining with us tonight. I am chef Ramsay and I will be leading this team of most
wonderful and talented men and women tonight.”

“We hope to razzle and dazzle you with a selection of culinary delights inspired by my recent
travels into Scandinavia and Eastern Europe.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I hope you enjoy
tonight’s dinner!”

With that, the chef and his whole team bowed and immediately rushed to start the prep. Each
worked like machines, fully focused on their respective tasks, all the while watching each other at
the same time. The chef was like a head control unit of the operation. While prepping certain things
himself, he kept shouting out orders and directions to keep the team at pace. Every rasp from him
was immediately acknowledged by a synchronous and enthusiastic ‘yes chef!’. Industrial
production lines had nothing on these people.

‘Wonder how Violet is fairing while we’re just sitting here, enjoying this spectacle…’ Panam
mused as she watched the sous-chef turn a tomato into a pile of see-through slivers in a blink of an
eye.

——
“This way, miss.” Edgar gestured down the hall where a door with a little icon of a person in what
appeared to be a dress.

“Thank you.” Violet bowed her head slightly to appear polite before making her way to the
bathroom.

Just as she expected, there was a wide ventilation duct right above one of the stalls. She quickly
locked the door to ensure it displayed ‘Occupied’ and pulled off her business suit. Placing it
carefully on top of the toilet tank so it was out of sight for anyone who would like to peek through
the door gap underneath, she started to unscrew the bolts that held the duct grate in place. This took
only a minute or so and soon she was deep into the ventilation system, crawling towards the small
wine cellar of the restaurant.

The blueprints that she’d uploaded into her heads-up display guided her in the right direction.
Forcing her way in on the other end was a little more troublesome, but the newly acquired plasma
cutters were a great help. Violet deftly caught the cut vent grate as she fell along with it and landed
with a soft tumble in-between two rows of wine shelves.

She quickly discarded the redundant piece of metal under one of the wooden structures and swiftly
pulled the hood of the catsuit on. Now she was borderline invisibile to any cameras or sensors.
Making her way through the cellar, she spotted a lone patrolling guard.

‘Seriously, it’s almost as if they are asking to get robbed.’

Violet didn’t even need to disable the guy, she just scuttered past him into the chamber where the
maglev terminal was.

“I’m going into the tunnel now.” She whispered into the comms, not expecting a response given
that V and Panam were in the middle of their fancy-schmancy dinner.

It took a light hack to get the terminal to think there was a scheduled shipment of wine into the
main warehouse. The mechanism whizzed quietly as it came to life. A moment later, off she went
into the darkness.

The capsule - and that was probably the best way to describe the thing that she snuck into - was
rather tight, to say the least. Violet doubted if she could fit a whole crate of wine on top of herself
into this thing on the way back. Worst case scenario she’d have to shove separate bottles into it to
make space, but she’d cross that bridge if she had to.

“Hey V, Panam. You better enjoy that dinner of yours!”

——

As Violet made her way through the restaurant’s ventilation system, V and Panam were treated to
their promised encounter with the owner.
Slav Gavroshin, their elusive wine collector and, apparently, a connoisseur of all things expensive
and edible, have finally graced them with their presence.

“Madame and Messir Herdinger, Madame and Messir Welles.” He announced their names in a way
that announced his own presence more than theirs. “It’s a pleasure to have you in my humble
establishment.”

He advanced closer to the bar area and pulled up one of the empty chairs for himself.

“I hope you’ve been pleased by the service so far.”

He glanced to both sides to gauge the reaction of each couple. All four of them nodded.

“I see you have bread and water, but that will not do for the distinguished people like yourselves!”
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. “Can we have some champagne over here, pronto!’

Almost instantly, a trio of staffers, Vanessa included, rushed out. They swarmed around like
agitated ants, placing tall flutes in front of each of the guests and the owner. Quickly after that, a
new person spotting a black waistcoat with a grape bunch pin on it entered the room. In her hands
was a wide bottle with a golden label and blackened foil around the neck.

“Sir Gavroshin, I hope the two-thousand-eight Dom Perignon will be to your liking and the liking
of your guests.”

“Thank you, Camilla. That is indeed a satisfactory choice.” The owner nodded courteously, but
also briskly gestured with his finger for the sommelier to pour quickly.

Panam never had champagne, nor did she expect to ever try it. In fact, until V came along and
insisted they celebrate with a bubbly liquid, she didn’t even know this kind of drink existed. The
one they’d tried previously was called something else though, but she couldn’t remember what
exactly. Not that her life had improved in any way by discovering it. To her it was just a fermented
bubbly grape liquid, not much more. A cool bottle of Broseth or a generous pour of whisky was
still her preferred go-to. V’s enthusiasm for quirky cocktails had rubbed off on her a bit, but the
wines were still a bit of a ‘meh’ alcohol in her books.

When she brought the bubbling glass closer to her nose and mouth, the accompanying funghi smell
wasn’t particularly alluring. Despite her inner reservations and - to a large extent - fear of offending
the host, Panam sipped the translucent liquid. It tasted tart, and sweet, and dry, and old, and fizzy,
all at once. It was akin to the rollercoaster ride off Pacifica, but in the form of a drink. She loved
and loathed it all at once, but it was undeniable that Panam was hooked on the feeling.

“This is… wonderful.” The nomad uttered finally after a few moments of introspective
contemplation.

“It is indeed!” V had clearly tried to adopt the classier way of speaking, which may have worked
on the others, but to Panam it was borderline comical. She resisted laughing, but gave her husband
a swift eyebrow raise that let him know she wasn’t buying his deceptions.

V answered with an apologetic glare, followed by a cheeky wink. Who knew what that meant and
Panam respected his ability to spar with her without saying a single word.
“Splendid! Stupendous! Marvelous!” The older woman on the other end of the bar was making her
way through the thesaurus.

The owner ignored her exaggerated praises entirely and focused on V and Panam.

“So, Mr. and Mrs. Welles, what brings you to London?” He gave them a moment for a reaction,
and explained himself. “You’re clearly from the US side of things. But there aren’t many people
willing to spend this much on a dinner, and most of them I am familiar with.” He shifted in his
chair to face the merc and the nomad, much to the visible frustration of the other two patrons. “So,
indulge my curiosity. Who are you and what brings you to London?”

They’ve rehearsed this part, but somehow Panam got flustered anyway. There was something
about this man’s direct tone and complete break of stuffy procedure that disoriented her.

Thankfully, V came to the rescue.

“I am an independent consultant working for some of the biggest corporations out there, namely
Arasaka.” The merc stared down the owner in confidence. “Ellie here is the head of a nomad clan
and my wife.”

“Between us we run a huge section of Arizona and Seattle supply chain and defence logistics.”

The ease that V had explained the lie had astonished Panam. She appreciated it because it saved
her from having to do it and was broad enough that the rest of their backstory could be just about
anything, borrowing both from the truth and lies, and not easy to factcheck. She pushed the
alarming thought that he could use this skill to lie to her with ease back down into the depths of
despair that it came from. Panam had enough trust in her man to know he wouldn’t pull such tricks
on her.

“What an exceptional pairing!” Slav clapped his hands in excitement. “And here I thought nomads
were only good for looting and robbing unsuspecting travellers. Yet here we are, a nomad in high
society!”

He put little effort to hide the contempt in his voice, and yet the expression and overall tone left
little to argue against. V squeezed Panam’s hand under the table which helped her calm down. In
any other circumstance, she’d knock this arrogant stalk of a man right into tomorrow.

“Anyway,” Gavroshin raised himself from his chair. “I believe that your starters are just arriving,
so I won’t distract you any longer.”

“It’s been a pleasure.” He gave a nod at each diner individually. “And please enjoy your dinner.”

“Can we rob him blind instead?” Panam whispered to V once the owner had left.
 “I wish, but let’s focus on the bigger picture.”

“Right. Get our ten mil, then return for the rest if we feel like it.”

“Exactly.” V squeezed her knee. “We’ll know where the vault is, anyway.”

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 2 will continue where we left off, including the rest of the dinner and Violet’s
expedition into the mysterious cellar.

Thanks for your patience and sticking with me on this one. Until the next!
 Hedonism II
Chapter Summary

The wine heist continues!

Chapter Notes

This chapter turned out shorter because I’ve cut out all of the food descriptions as they
got quite tedious in the end and I didn’t want to bore anyone with my food rambling.

Enjoy the read!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

While Panam did her best to calm down and avoid punching one of the richest people in London,
Violet arrived at her destination.

“Uff,” the teenager huffed quietly as she slowly dislodged herself from a tight enclosure of the
maglev carriage. It took her a minute to stretch and get all of her body parts in proper working
order. Tight and uncomfortable space forced her into some very unnatural positions.

“Hey, V. You there?” Violet tried the holo, to no success. The line on the other end was as dead as
the last Supreme General of Nicaragua.

‘Was to be expected. This must be quite deep down.’ Her internal sensors flagged that the maglev
was descending all the way through the journey. It made sense - wine liked cold, so storing it low
underground was the easiest solution.

Thankfully, Violet didn’t really need any of the guidance of her older partners in crime. She knew
exactly what to look for. A glowing screen of a server terminal a few meters away had given her
the way to locate it, too.

“Ah, fudge!” Another frustrated expression quietly escaped Violet’s lips. ‘Of course it couldn’t be
too easy…’

The case she was after was flagged as inaccessible without a special permission. Said permission
could only be granted by no one but the owner himself. In person. Via a triple biometric
verification.
‘Well… We shall see about that now, won’t we?’

To Violet this was less of a deterrent, but rather a lucrative challenge.

And, indeed, the security system in what must’ve been the most secure section of this - already
very secure - cellar gave in without much strain.

‘Almost like they wanted this to be stolen!’

It took her far longer to locate the desired case. To Violet, all of these pretentious labels burnt onto
identically-coloured crates were more confusing than multiple layers of ICE and passwords.

‘Finally! There you are!’ After what felt like an eternity of searching, she’d finally located the
wooden box in question. Triple checking the labels and inscriptions,Violet ensured that this was
the correct crate.

Without further ado, she lifted the case and made her way back to the maglev terminal. She was
just out of the poorly secured ‘Forbidden Section’ when her ears were suddenly assaulted by a
screeching noise.

Somehow, she still managed to trigger the alarm. Each case must’ve been sitting on a pressure
panel. Or maybe there was a hidden tag inside…

Whatever the cause was, she’d fucked up and now the entire facility was going crazy.

Every door in the warehouse opened. Armed guards poured in from all directions.

‘Flock!’ This was worse than Colombia. These guys weren’t likely to run out of bullets after the
first set of magazines.

“There he is!” One of the guards pointed towards Violet with a gloved finger, prompting dozens of
others to look in her direction.

At least they had no idea who was robbing them. Small blessings, and all that.

Without wasting another moment, Violet dashed towards her cramped escape pod. Every relevant
muscle and cybernetic implant was pushed to the limit to ensure she was fast enough to make it
there. The scientists of the Militech child super soldier programme would’ve been proud of their
creation, if they were still alive to see it. To most guards of the wine cellar, the teenager was but a
blur, rushing past them. Only the elite units could perceive detailed movements, and even they
didn’t have the reaction speed to aim fast enough. Before anyone in the cellar could react, Violet
would’ve dashed past them.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t be too careful. In her escape, she made sure to grab and topple any cases
that were in her reach. Bottles of all shapes, ages and colours fell and smashed into thousands of
shards and splashes. At least a couple of her pursuers slipped on the priceless liquids, stumbling
their squadmates that were following closely behind.
Suddenly, the tight space of the maglev trolley became the least of the problems. Without much
hesitation, Violet lobbed the crate into the small cavity of the tiny train and dove right after it. Her
neural implant interfaced with the control system as she was mid-air, forcing the trolley to start its
trip back to the restaurant basement even before the teenager fully made it onboard.

By some miracle, she managed to squeeze into an even tighter space. The glass dome closed on top
of her and she was shot back up to the surface, like the world’s most expensive slingshot
projectile.

——

“Case is secured.” Oh how glad Violet was when the comms link got restored.

Judging by the complete quiet in the basement, the alarm in the main wine warehouse did not get to
the restaurant just yet. She had plenty of time to crawl out of the extra-cramped space of the trolley.
The teenager even allowed herself the luxury of catching her breath before notifying of her
success.

The response she got was far from satisfying…

“Already?!” Panam whispered into the comms link. “We haven’t even got the desert yet.”

“I had to give a guy a concussion with a champagne bottle!!!” Violet whisper-yelled as she snuck
around the shelves to avoid the guards. “The heist wasn’t exactly subtle. We got to leave. NOW !”

“Alright, alright!” V interjected. “We’ll get the bill.”

“Wait, didn’t we pay 10 large for this already?” Panam’s voice sounded shocked, even as a quiet
whisper.

“That was only for the food.”

“Fucking capitalists, I swear…”

Despite objections and frustrations, the three of them had promptly reunited in the lobby no more
than five minutes later. Somehow, Violet even managed to put her corpo suit back on.
“Leaving so soon? But there’s still desert!” The receptionist looked completely defeated with
disappointment at their earlier departure.

“Our sincere apologies to the host and the chefs,” V nodded solemnly, “but something urgent had
come up and, regrettably, we have to leave early.”

“Of course.” The man behind the welcome desk could only bow his head in response.

Panam and V had just settled into their hired limo, waiting just for Violet to jump in as well.

“Wait a moment, please.” The teenage assassin stopped in her tracks suddenly before chucking the
wine case onto V’s lap and dashing back into the restaurant.

“What the fuck is she doing?” V mumbled out loud, but by Panam’s looks it was clear that she was
as clueless as he was.

No more than three minutes later, Violet crashed out of a side window of the building. In one of
her hands, she was clutching a boxy paper bag.

“Go! Go! Go!” She yelled at the driver as she dove into the limo. A moment later, the door closed
and they sped off, but not before V and Panam saw a trove of security guards pour out of the
restaurant.

“Vi, what the fuck?!” The nomad beat V to the question.

“Desert.” Violet raised the brown bag high up in the air like some sort of trophy before passing it
to the bewildered adults. “For three people.”

“I love chocolate,” she added with a smug smirk.

Panam and V could only facepalm in order to hide their laughter.

——
V suggested it was best if he made the trip to Rothschild’s mansion on his own. Neither Panam,
nor Violet objected to the idea. The nomad was too sleepy after all the food she’d had at the
restaurant and the teen had a sugar crash after eating two of the three desserts that she’d clepted
from the kitchen just before they made their escape.

“That was quick!” Archibald whistled at the sight of the wine case in front of him. “But then
again… Such efficiency is to be expected from a top-tier professional such as yourself, V.”

He lifted one of the bottles out of the case and inspected it thoroughly. It took a number of twists
and tilts, looking at this part of the label or that timestamp on the foil before Rothschild had finally
nodded, signalling his full satisfaction.

“This is, indeed, the case that I’ve asked for. You and your companions have done splendidly, V!”

“Where are they, by the way? I would’ve hoped to thank them as well.”

“It’s been a tiring job, Archie. I’m taking one for the team while they rest.”

“How thoughtful of you!” Archibald seemed undeterred. “In that case, we should most certainly
have that dinner to celebrate. Of course, both ladies are invited.

“I’m sure they’d like that,” V nodded. In reality, he wasn’t sure if Pan had had enough of the
pompous dinners for one week. At the same time, declining such an offer could offend their
generous client, and that could carry unwanted consequences beyond the loss of future lucrative
employment.

“Settled then,” the aristocrat smiled. “Would this Friday at seven work for you?”

“Yeah, we’ll make it work.” V nodded.

As there was no more to discuss, he simply headed for the door to leave. This course of action
seemed fine with Archibald, as he said nothing as V headed for the door to leave the mansion.

——

Opening a bank account for an undocumented teenager who’d been smuggled out of her top-secret
facility had turned out to be surprisingly easy. Nonetheless, it didn’t pass without its share of
awkward moments.
“Name?” The clerk serving them looked like she couldn't possibly be more bored by the events
unfolding in front of her.

“Violet.” The teenager insisted she would complete the application herself. It was to be her
account, after all.

“Surname?”

“Uhh…” She wasn’t ready for that question, even though it was inevitably coming. “Palmer?”

“Alright, Miss Palmer,” the woman behind the desk looked at the trio one by one, “your parents
will need to sign this form on your behalf.”

‘PARENTS???’ The reaction was the same for all three of them, albeit for different reasons.

“Sure.” V came to his senses first and reached for the pen that was attached to the desk with a
swirly blue plastic ribbon. His signature was just an unintelligible squiggle that had no relation to
his name or surname. That was still better than if he just signed everything with a single ‘V’,
though.

The bank teller excused herself for a moment to process paperwork. Good fifteen minutes later,
she’d returned. Somehow she managed to look even more bored, a feat that seemed impossible.

“You’re all set.”

“Thank you for using the National Union Trust Bank. Have a wonderful day.”

The final sentence rolled off her tongue like an automated jingle - no enthusiasm, or any other
emotion at all.

“Thank you.” Violet decided to smile back at the clerc before turning to the two adults. “Okay, my
dear parents, shall we go?”

——

“This is much more than we agreed?” Looking at the new balance of her account, Violet raised an
eyebrow at V.

“You did a lot of the work, so you get your fair share.” The merc shrugged, as if parting with an
additional 2.3 million was a commonplace thing in his books.

“Wow…” The girl was genuinely impressed with the man’s honesty, but her mind already
wandered elsewhere. “I can probably buy an entire chocolate factory! All for myself!”

“Alright, alright, Willy Wonka. Calm down.” V affectionately patted her on the head.

Getting no response to his joke, he stared at Violet, then Panam, then back at Violet.

“What? Nobody?! It’s a classic!”

“V, my love,” Panam put a hand on the man’s shoulder, “you’re such a nerd.”

——

“Alright, it’s time to get some well-deserved rest!” V reached up to stretch as he settled into the
armchair.

Regrettably, the peace lasted for the whole of seven minutes. The merc’s holo beeped with a high
priority message, instantly pulling the man out his blissful state.

It was a message to Ryan Penber’s account.

[ Your application has been accepted. Be at these coordinates at 14:00 in 3 days. Failure to turn up
will result in your application being forfeit. Have a good day. ]

There was, indeed, a set of long-lat coordinates attached, but V didn’t intend to use them. Instead,
he quickly traced the sender back to a remote location somewhere in the middle of an abandoned
warehouse district. Whoever was in charge of masking it did a great job. They used an oldReading
mainframe that was hardly monitored and generally considered abandoned, even by AIs.
Unfortunately for them, V knew what he was looking for. They may have been a needle in a
haystack, but the talented hacker came prepared with an electromagnet. That checked out as a
possible location for an underground laboratory.
 “Gotcha!” V wasn’t even upset about his rest time being interrupted.

Three hours later, fully kitted-out V, Panam and Violet, who wouldn’t take no for an answer, stood
in front of a half-destroyed pub.

It didn’t take long to find the vault door that was hiding behind the bar, and only a little bit longer
to hack the lock.

“Open sesame!” V spread his hands in a dramatic fashion as the heavy steel gate opened with a
rumble.

Chapter End Notes

We are done with our little detour and will be diving right into the main storyline.
Exciting times ahead!

In other news, have you seen the new Edgerunners anime trailer?! Looks positively
mental! I am really stoked for it. There’s space in the narrative to write in the
characters of the show, but first I’ll need to watch it and find out who they are and
how they relate to CP2077’s story in the first place.
 Introductions, Interrupted
Chapter Summary

V and the crew finally get to come face-to-face with Vesper Lynd, the cloning expert
that they’ve been looking for.

As usual, not everything goes well…

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“We’ve got a breach!” A uniformed guard yelled into his comms link as he scrambled for cover.

Almost immediately, the corridor behind him filled with sounds of boots running across the metal
floor.

“I hear seven more coming. Pfft, is that it?” Violet scoffed, clearly disappointed by the lack of
challenge.

“Don’t get cocky, Vi!” Panam dragged the teenager behind cover, quickly following herself. “V,
what the fuck are you doing?”

She was referring to how her madcap husband had remained standing in the middle of the room.
Even an idiot with a Slaught-O-Matic could hit a target like that.

The merc just shrugged and raised his hands, palms open and fingers pointing towards the ceiling.
“We don’t mean no trouble. Just looking for Vesper Lynd. I’m V. She must’ve known I’d come
eventually.”

Guards hesitated for a moment, but whoever was watching them on the camera feed did not.

“Let them through. But don’t take your eyes off them.” The voice was female. It must’ve been
Lynd herself.

Security personnel followed their instructions and lowered their guns, but did not put them away. V
and his team approached them slowly.

“Follow me.” The man who had called for backup earlier called out dryly before starting to walk
deeper into the facility.
This place was built like a maze - corridors branched out and converged, there were unmarked
doors everywhere. Without a guide, they would’ve certainly got lost.

“So… uhh…” The silence was unbearable, so V tried to start a conversation. “You guys been long
in this place? Looks… cozy.”

He had to shut up and just stare at the dull, uniform floor in front of him when the guard had
simply ignored the question and continued walking.

It took them a good five minutes to get to a room that looked like a security checkpoint. It had
multiple corridors leading away from it in different directions. There were more armed personnel
stationed there, all looking at the unwanted newcomers intently. In the centre stood a woman of
medium height, dressed in an off-white lab coat. She wore her long black hair in a hastily-made
bun, complimented by equally chaotic-looking side bangs that framed her angular face. The whole
getup gave very strong ‘mad scientist’ vibes, which fit her supposed specialisation perfectly. One
had to be at least a little mad to run a covert cloning clinic.

“You’re V, I take it?” The scientist raised an unimpressed eyebrow after studying each of the
surprise guests up and down before finally settling on the man in the middle.

“And you must be Vesper Lynd.” The merc smiled, refusing to be deterred by the cool welcome.
After all, he’d turned half of London over for this moment. “You’re a hard woman to find, you
know that?”

“My friends from the Net have contacted you about my condition, I take it?”

“Yes, they have.” Lynd gave him a barely perceptive nod. Her face maintained a generally neutral
expression, but her blue eyes betrayed her annoyance at the whole situation. “But before we jump
to business, it’s customary for strangers to introduce themselves. You’ve barged in unannounced,
giving me your names is the least you can do.”

“Of course, apologies!” V nodded multiple times in quick succession before turning to Panam with
an expectant look.

“Hey, name’s Panam. I am this gonk’s partner and one of the leaders of the Aldecaldo Clan.”
Panam gave a small nod in greeting. “Thanks for not shooting at us from the get-go.”

“Good to meet you, Panam. It’s been a while since I’ve met a nomad. I don’t even remember last
time I talked to one of their leaders.” Vesper returned the nod, which was complimented with a
smile. She may have not liked to be put in this situation, but didn’t let it affect her manners. “And
you, young lady? Who would you be?”
“My name’s Valerie. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Vi, in turn, decided to go above and
beyond and did a bow befitting a royal courtier.

‘What’s gotten into her all of a sudden?!’ V wasn’t sure if the teenager really meant it or was just
taking the piss.

“Oh my, you are a polite one!” Vesper was visibly pleased by such a display. “I see you have a lot
of chrome in you, and at such a young age. I would love to ask you about it some time, if you don’t
mind?”

“How did you see it from all the way over there?!” Violet voiced what the other two were thinking.
“But yes, sure. As long as you won’t try to cut into me to dig deeper.”

“Who on earth would do such a thing to a child as sweet as yourself?!” Vesper gasped in shock at
the prospect of operating on this girl. She took a moment to realise everyone was staring and she
was quickly veering off-subject.

“Ahem, excuse me.” She put a closed fist over her mouth as she cleared her throat. “Introductions
done, we can now discuss the reason you’re here.”

“Well, to put it simply - I need a clone.”

“Oh do you now?” Lynd just had to laugh. “Well, I have bad news for you - you’ll need to get in
line.”

“To be fair, I’m quite impressed that you actually found me. Nobody did in a decade.”

“I am known to pull off miracles,” V smirked smugly.

“Yeah, right.” Vesper waved the cocky merc off.

Panam found the whole exchange amusing. As much as she didn’t like to fuel V’s ego too much ,
she had to admit that he, indeed, had a penchant for pulling off the impossible.

“Then again…” The scientist rubbed her chin in contemplation. “I guess you did befriend an AI
and somehow didn’t go psycho with Silverhand inside your head…”
“I guess I may as well give you a tour so you can try to pull one of your miracles.”

“A chance is all I need.”

“Follow me.”

——

After multiple half-metre thick doors unlocked through triple authentication, they walked into what
looked like the main laboratory. There were rows and rows of mystery machinery everywhere with
dozens of staff members - all dressed in identical white lab coats and transparent face shields -
spread out evenly. Each had their own designated area, where they fiddled with samples, peered at
computer screens or worked with the machines themselves.

The next room was much more shocking, though. Vats of translucent liquid lined the walls, with
blurry human outlines floating in each of them.

“These are in the final stages of growth.” Vesper gestured at one of the vat rows. “This is where we
introduce the donor DNA into the mix. This is where they become the people who ordered them.

They passed another room, but all the windows were completely blacked-out, so no one could see
what was inside.

“What’s in there?” V nodded at the mysterious set of sliding doors.

“A nosy one, aren’t you?” Lynd smirked. “That’s where the child clones are grown. We don’t want
them to be out in the open.”

“Speaking of,” she stopped and turned to the merc, “was that story, the one you tracked me with,
real?”

“Yeah, it was. Girl’s name is Maddy, she’s very ill.”

“Good, because I’ve already started on her clone.”

“What?” V’s and Panam’s shocked faces gave Vesper a pause. “I may be a profiteering capitalist
through and through, but I’m not a monster! Sick little kids get priority service.”

“Speaking of profiteering…” She looked V right in the eye. Her eyes shone electric-blue. “This is
how much it’s going to cost you.”

Panam watched her partner intently to try and gauge how big the damage would be. V blinked
slowly and the nomad could swear she saw his eyes water.

“Fine. But we’ll need at least three. On top of the girl.”

“I am sorry, what?” It was Vesper’s turn to be shocked. “Are you completely bonkers?!”

V didn’t get a chance to respond, as the room plunged into a cacophony of sirens blasting. The
noise was accompanied by flashes of red warning lights.

“Were you followed?!” Lynd had to yell over the alarms.

“No!” V yelled back. “We made sure!”

“Clearly not well enough!!” The scientist was furious.

“Boss!” Her comms came alive. “We have multiple breaches!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” She yelled back at her guard before turning back to the merc. “C’mon, mister
Night City! Show me what a famed edgerunner like yourself can do, why won’t you?!”

——

“What’s the sitch?” V had his game face on when addressing the captain of the guard.

The uniformed man looked at Vesper in confusion, as if asking, “is this guy for real?!”
“No offence, Harman, but I’ll let V take the lead on this one.” Vesper patted her man on the
shoulder. He clearly disagreed with the decision, but only grumbled in acknowledgement of the
command.

“We have three breaches,” the guard captain reported back. “Two in the storage areas and one in
the ventilation centre. They are converging here.”

“So what do we do now, V?” She stared at the merc expectantly.

“Well, if they’re coming here, then at least we don’t need to chase them.” V frowned. Somehow,
that fact didn’t give him much comfort.

“Panam, Violet. You take the entrance we just came from. Please, be careful.”

He then turned to the captain.

“Harman, right? How many men have you got?”

“Eleven, myself included.”

“Ok, good. Take four of them and go guard that entrance. Leave three at the main entrance just in
case. Send two with Panam. I’ll take the calmest one to watch my back.”

“Are you sure you won’t need more help?!”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

“Fine.” The captain didn’t seem convinced, but was not about to disagree with a direct order. “Bell,
go with Mr. V.”

“Sir!” Young woman saluted and stepped closer to V.

“Great.” The merc nodded. “Bell, you’re with me, let’s go.”

“Vesper, keep us posted.”

“Sure.” The scientist settled into the chair and popped a headset on. “I’ll hook you up to our
frequency.”

——

“Bell?” V side-eyed his charge quickly before turning his eyes back on the doors.

“Yes, sir?”

“Just V is fine. What’s your name?”

“Kirstie, sir-I-mean-V.”

“Can I call you Kirstie rather than Bell?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thanks,” V nodded. “Listen, Kirstie. I don’t know who is coming through those doors, but they
are likely to be quite dangerous.”

“Just watch my back. And no heroics. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

“They’re getting close to your positions.” Vesper’s voice reached every team at once. “They seem
extremely synchronised.”

“That ain’t good. Means they’re well-trained.”

V didn’t manage to talk much more as the ceiling just in front and over his position started to
rumble. A moment later, one of the ventilation grates fell on the floor with a loud clatter. Two
black figures jumped down right after it and rushed at the defendants without a moment’s
hesitation.
‘Fuck, they’re fast!’ V ground his teeth as he aimed his P690 and fired. “Kirstie! Look alive!”

The bullets connected with his targets, but they didn’t seem to care much. The two assailants split
their attention between their two targets almost instantly. They were clearly communicating via a
comms link themselves.

‘What kind of armour are these bastards wearing?!’

“Pan, are you doing okay?!”

“A little busy here right now, V!” Gunfire could be heard from every corner of the control centre.

In fairness, he had to worry about himself at that point. Kirstie managed to hold off her target with
her heavy-caliber rifle, but V’s opponent was advancing quickly.

“Fine then, hand cannon time!” V pulled out the Malorian and started unloading the clip at the
mysterious figure.

This time the gun did a lot of damage. The assailant got thrown backwards from the sheer force,
stopping them in their tracks. Shockingly, there was no blood, just sparks and pieces of cyberwear
flying in all directions. Their enemies weren’t organic.

This gave V another option, and just in time. Kirstie had to reload, which gave the second cyborg
ample time to advance. When V zapped it with a Short Circuit hack, it was less than a metre away
and already had what looked like barbed Mantis blades unsheathed.

“Th-thanks!” Terrified guard could only nod back, but V had already started to run back to give
Panam and Violet a hand.

“They’re borgs!” He yelled over the comms.

By the time he arrived at the other chokepoint, Violet was engaged in hand-to-hand with one other
borg, identical to the two V had fought earlier. The teenager held her own exceptionally well and
could see getting the upper hand. Panam and the guards weren’t fairing as well. Two men were
lying on the floor, one of them in a pool of blood. Panam was dodging the blades, blocking and
parrying them where possible with her shotgun. V fried that cyborg first, proceeding to shower the
one attacking Violet in a hail of bullets.
“I could’ve managed myself!” The teenager protested.

“No time for showing off, Vi!”

“Shit, they are coming through the main entrance as well!” Harman alerted over the comms. “We
are still tied up here. You’ve got to protect Miss Lynd!”

“We’re on it.” V nodded at Pan and Violet to follow him. “Kirstie, take care of these two.”

“Will do. Good luck.”

By the time they made it back to the main room, it was already taken over by another group of
cyborgs. One towered over others - must’ve been the leader. Under one of his arms he held the
unconscious body of Vesper Lynd.

‘Fuck! This ain’t good.’

“Vi, go help the captain. Panam and I will deal with these ones.”

“Roger, roger.” The girl dashed to the side and out of sight.

“That one looks bad, V,” Panam said.

“Not to worry. Can you take on the other two, and I’ll take the big boy? Here, take this.” He
chucked the Malorian along with additional clips her way before unsheathing the Wolverine
claws.

“Come here, you big fuck.” The merc launched at the big cyborg, mindful not to accidentally injure
the woman who was meant to save his life.

That plan didn’t work as well as V had hoped, because the borg had reacted with a lightning-fast
punch that connected with V’s chest and launched the man back. He crashed into one of the
security terminals with a loud crash. It would be a miracle if all of his ribs remained intact after
that, but that was something to worry about later.

The assailant hadn’t used V’s vulnerable position to press the attack, but instead turned to retreat
back to the main entrance.

It became clear that the aim of the attack was Vesper herself. V could not allow for that to happen.
He rushed after the borg, throwing quickhack after quickhack at it. None of them worked - the ICE
was just too strong, or it simply shrugged off the damage.

‘What is this thing?!’

V wasn’t about to give up that easily. He unclipped an EMP grenade from his belt and chucked it
at the enemy. The sticky adhesive coating helped it to attach to the side of the borg. The fuse was
set to five seconds which would normally be too short for any normal person to react to, but not
this cyber-ninja. With a quick swathe of the free arm, it dislodged the grenade and launched it
towards the far corner of the room. The only damage it made was to some security terminal.

Ever-persistent, the solo had caught up with the borg and started pummeling its lower body with
the cyber-claws. They made it as far as piercing the outer layer of black polymer that covered the
cyborg’s body, but quickly met a much tougher underlayer. Sparks flew as V kept hitting over and
over at the robot that paid him little mind and simply pushed on towards the exit.

“V! Catch!” Panam called over and threw Johnny’s custom pistol back to its current owner.

V snatched the gun mid-air and opened fire. Same as with the previous bots, this was an effective
strategy. The damage he inflicted had taken the cyborg’s attention. It dropped Vesper to the ground
and launched at the merc. Before V could react, robot’s foot had pinned his own to the ground,
while the cybernetic fist crushed V’s knee from the side, popping the ligaments with a loud snap.

“AGH!!!” The man collapsed to the ground, dropping the gun and clutching his damaged leg.
Even all the painkillers that were automatically discharged into his bloodstream couldn’t hold off
the waves of searing pain.

The cyborg simply turned back, satisfied with disabling his pursuer, picked up Lynd’s body and
rushed out of the gates.

“V, NOO!” Panam rushed to his side, also dropping everything. She didn’t have much to worry
about, anyway - the other bot she was fighting turned tail as well.

“Oh, this looks bad.” She must’ve been referring to the angle that V’s leg was currently bent in.
Human knees shouldn’t be bent sideways, that was certain. “Stay with me, V!”

Despite her pleas, the pain got just too much for the solo and he blacked out.

——
V woke up in what started to become a familiar position - in a ripperdoc’s chair.

“Ugh… what happened?” He asked quietly, still dizzy.

“You got yourself fucked up again, that’s what.” Panam sounded more upset than angry. She never
let the man’s hand go from hers.

V suddenly remembered what had happened, which made him jerk up. He looked down at his legs,
expecting to have a full cast on one of them. Instead, he was greeted with a soft matte gleam of
freshly-applied synth-skin.

“What happened with my leg?”

“It couldn’t be saved.” Pan kept tracing circles on top of his hand with her thumb. “The damage
was too severe.”

“Which ripperdoc is this?” On closer inspection, he didn’t recognise the place. It was certainly not
a proper hospital, but also wasn’t Henry’s backroom either.

“You’ve got a short memory, my cyber-clawed friend.” A low voice made V turn around.

“Ah, I remember now. Hello Frank, thanks for patching me up.” The merc recognised the ripper as
the same guy who had sorted out his Wolverine claws. This meant that they were currently under a
church.

‘Father Anthony must’ve been thrilled to find out I’ve been brought back here in a sorry state.’

“That’s better!” The doc smirked. “C’mon, get up. Let’s see how it feels. May need some tune-
up.”

V obliged and, with Panam’s help, slid from the chair and stood up. It felt the same, but different at
the same time. He bent his knees a bit, straightened them up again. The feedback from the new leg
felt very similar to that of the M-blades.
‘Well… What to do…” There was no point in getting upset about it anymore. V wasn’t planning to
replace his real-flesh legs beyond the calf implants. What was done, was done. “So what’re we
dealing with here?”

“Your friend Molly pulled some strings to get you a modified IEC full-leg cyberware. You have a
retractable blade in the foot and a concealed blade in the knee.”

“Aren’t blades illegal in these parts?”

“Wouldn’t expect a guy with six katanas in his arms to worry much about that.” Frank raised a
surprised eyebrow at V.

“Yeah, fair point.” V shrugged awkwardly. “Okay, let’s see what these blades look like.”

He sent a command to his own leg to release the blade. In a fraction of a second, a 15-centimeter
blade popped out from the base of his foot. ‘Great, I’ll need to modify shoes for that.’

Next was the concealed blade. The merc kicked upwards, and a sleek, short katana shot up from
his knee and into the air. He caught it with a quick swipe and proceeded to twist the blade this way
and that to get a measure of its weight and balance. The weapon was masterfully crafted and sat
nicely in the hand. Due to the need for concealment, it didn’t have much of a cross-guard, so felt
more like a sleek long knife. ‘This’ll come in useful, for sure.’

With a deft motion, he slotted the blade back into its housing and lowered the leg.

“Happy?” Frank watched intently.

“Happy.” V nodded. “Thanks again.”

“Alright, it’s time for us to bounce.”

“Hope next time you’ll come here conscious.” Frank shook the hand extended to him in goodbye.
“Take care of yourself.”

——
“So…” V sighed as he and Panam got into the car. She was driving. “Vesper Lynd is out of our
grasp, again. This time fuck-knows-where…”

“Hey, don’t get gloomy on me, V.” Panam flashed him a very warm and reassuring smile. “There
was quite a bit of progress made while you were out cold.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“We managed to hack into one of the dead borg’s heads.”

“Well, when I say we, I really mean Johnny. He did all the work.”

“Johnny?! Hacking into borgs?!” V almost strained his neck, so quickly he turned at Panam.

“You better believe it!” The nomad laughed.

“I’ll be damned!” The merc whistled. “And? What's the news?”

“These bots have some sort of hive mind controlling them. That’s how they were so organised and
efficient.” Panam paused for a second as she had to check her mirrors before making a turn. “Most
likely an advanced AI.”

“Loki again?”

“Nah, this one’s different.” The nomad shook her head. “Not quite that advanced, but still - can be
dangerous.”

“So, what else did our favourite rockerboy find?”

“You ain’t gonna believe where she was taken.”

“C’mon, spill it.”

 “Night fucking City!”

Chapter End Notes

Edgerunners anime had made me reconsider some of the story elements and their
order. I always wanted to go back to Night City at some point (that story was planned
absolute AGES ago and needed multiple updates), but didn’t expect it to be so soon. I
want to bring some of the anime characters into the fold though, so we’re going back a
little sooner.

This also means that Riggs & Glover will show up in the main story within the next
couple of chapters (for those that have been following the cop duo in the other fic).
 New Game +
Chapter Summary

V’s back in Night City. Reunions are bound to take place.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

‘Can’t believe I let that guy sock me in the face like that!’ V peered into the mirror at his broken
nose. ‘This is gonna sting…’

Not seeing a point in delaying any longer, he downed a shot of ‘little anesthesia’ tequila and
straightened the nose with a loud crack. “Urgh, motherfucker!”

“There, have another one, hermano.” Pepe passed him another shot to follow up, which the merc
downed immediately. “Who jumped ya?”

“Eh, doesn’t matter.”

——

V’s return to NC wasn’t going quite as well as he hoped.

First, he ran into trouble with Militech as some overzealous grunts had decided to apprehend him.
As it turned out, they were acting on whatever V did before departing out of the country, and not
what had happened in London. Nonetheless, he still had to go to trouble of zeroing the fools, which
wasn’t how anybody would want their homecoming to begin.

Then there was an encounter with NCPD. V wasn’t out of Delamain’s garage for five minutes
when he was pulled over by a police cruiser. As it turned out, his Caliburn still had a months-old
APB on it, which the officer couldn’t justify. One call back to the precinct had cleared the
misunderstanding, but it still added to the growing stack of unpleasantries.

This latest incident, though, was just plain stupid. All that street cred had clearly gone to V’s head,
or perhaps his name was no longer known on the streets. Two gonks, maybe 20 years old max,
jumped him in the back alley. Still dizzy from the jetlag and new immuno-blocker meds, V
completely missed a steel pipe that connected with the middle of his face before he could say “let’s
not get too hasty, chooms”. Such an unexpected development, as well as the generous jolt of pain
in the bridge of his nose had immediately shaken the solo out of his drowsy state.

‘For fucks sake…’ V swore as he dodged the next swing of the pipe and retaliated by smashing the
young ganger’s face into the nearest wall.

‘V, you fucking gonk…’ The merc continued mentally berating himself for letting his guard down
all the while punching the second guy in the chest before he even had the time to react.

‘That’s how you get zeroed in Night City… By being careless.’ Looking over two unconscious
bodies on the floor, V reached out to his face. “Ouch!”

——

“Ugh, Pan’s gonna kick my ass when she finds out how I got this…” V leant on the bar in defeat,
resting his forehead on his hands to prevent his very sore nose from reaching the hard surface. “I
think I’ll need more tequila, Pepe.”

“Sure, mano.” The bartender poured a generous measure of liquor - in a tumbler this time round -
and placed it in front of V. The burly man looked uneasy, jittery.

“What is it?” V lifted his aching head to look the other man in the face. The bartender still felt
hesitant. His eyes kept darting up at the inner balcony of El Coyote. “Out with it, Pepe.”

“Fine…” Pepe sighed. “It’s Kirk. Ever since you’ve uprooted the status quo in the whole city,
pendejo managed to slither his way back into the biz. He’s got too much weight to swing now, so
Mama can’t kick him out.”

“I see…” V knew all too well that Kirk’s return couldn’t spell anything good for anyone at the bar
or the community in general.

‘But what would Kirk want with Pepe?’

“What’s in it for you anyway?”

“It’s the fuckers he’s runnin’ with. They all come here, start trouble, bring trouble. If it wasn’t for
Mama Welles and Valentinos’ protection, who knows what kind of cesspit El Coyote woulda
turned into.” Pepe’s demeanour still felt sketchy. It reminded V of that time where his friend asked
to spy on his wife. He wasn’t telling everything.

“Pepe, c’mon. You can’t bring something like this up and not tell me the whole story!”
“Fine, fine. You’re one perceptive bastard, ya know that, V?” Pepe chuckled nervously. “I was
short on cash a few months back… Wanted to treat Cynthia to a holiday but then tips didn’t add up
next month…”

“You borrowed scratch from Kirk?!”

“Well, a certain Mr. Moneybags wasn’t around, was he?!”

“It’s not like I changed my number or anything?!”

“Fair. But what’s done is done. Now he wants something from me, and I’d be damned if it isn’t
some bullshit that’ll get me killed.” Pepe looked seriously worried, and for a good reason.

The gonk fixer wannabe thought of himself as the next Faraday, but his average-at-best intellect
and complete lack of foresight had often got people he worked with in trouble. As such, he usually
ran with the same crew of mid-tier edgerunners and treated everyone else as disposable. V had
accompanied Jackie on one of Kirk’s gigs once. Their intel was so wrong that it was a miracle they
got out alive at all.

“A’ight, lemme talk to him.” V sighed. He was about to reach for the bridge of his nose - a
habitual gesture of frustration, but remembered just in time.

“Thanks! Drinks on me for a month!”

“Ha, funny! We both know they are free for both of us round here.”

——

‘He didn’t even change the booth he uses.’

Kirk, the newest ‘proper’ fixer of Night City, sat in his old spot just by the stairs to the inner
balcony of El Coyote Cojo.
“Hey there, Kirk. Long time no see.” V ignored the chunky bouncer stationed by the table and sat
on the opposite couch.

The bodyguard - clearly new to the game and completely unaware of the shitshow he was about to
unleash on himself - started to reach for V’s jacket to chuck the man out.

Fortunately for everyone involved, Kirk stopped him with a hand gesture. “Hold it! V’s an old
friend of mine.”

‘Friend? Since when?!’

“Long time, V,” Kirk smirked. “Heard you skipped town for a while. Trying to lose the heat from
Arasaka?”

“Somethin’ like that…” V wasn’t at all surprised that this guy was about as informed as a car park
janitor. He wasn’t about to make him more informed, either.

“So, how can I help the Legend of Night City himself?” Somehow, Kirk’s words felt like a
mockery, rather than a compliment.

“Pepe says he owes you money? I’m here to pay on his behalf.”

“Ahh! But you see, my dear V, Pepe doesn’t owe me money. He owes me a favour, and I am
intending to call it in.”

“Fine. What do you need done? I can do it instead.”

“Be my guest.” A mischievous grin stretched across the fixer’s face as he slid a datapad across the
table. On it was a photo of a full-chrome Aerondight. Judging by the angle and background, the
snap was taken from behind another car at some corpo parking lot.

“Rayfield Aerondight. Only a few dozen of them in the world. You can count the ones in NC on
one hand.”

Obviously this guy didn’t know that V was one of those few. His red example came into his
possession thanks to a fleeing diplomat.
“And what do these wheels have to do with this favour?”

“Simple, I want this bad boy klepted for me.”

‘Oh, is that it?!’ Kirk wanted Pepe, a bartender, to steal one of the most exclusive and secure cars
in the world for him. ‘What an idiot.’

“You can have mine instead,” the merc said casually. “It’s easier that way.”

He didn’t like the car much anyway. It was too bulky and flashy. Although, it was fun to take it out
together with Kerry. People lost their shit at the sight of two Aerondights cruising next to each
other.

Kirk couldn’t hide his astonishment at how casually V dropped the bombshell that he had a car like
that and, even more so, how easily he was willing to part with it. When he composed himself once
again, the ugly smirk returned. The bastard had some sort of wicked plan.

“But, my dear V, you see… I want this specific one. It’s been customised from top to bottom. And
it’s the only example completed in 2077.”

‘Ok, so he’s just being a dick about it.’ V considered if just shooting the man would be the easiest
way out, but ultimately decided against it. Even for a merc of his standing, straight up zeroing a
fixer, even one as slimy as Kirk, was bad, bad karma.

Besides, he had a much better idea.

“Fine. Who owns it?”

“Some militech bigshot.”

‘Fan-fucking-tastic! One more reason to get entangled with Militech. Why not?!’

This was a big risk, given V’s current stance with the megacorp and the need to stay on the down-
low in the city. On the other hand, Militech was such a huge and secrecy-obsessed corpo that the
chance of this one guy having any clue of any of V’s more controversial involvement was minimal.
On top of that, Stout was unlikely to broadcast her string of failures to the whole company. That
would be an equivalent to suicide, both in career and general sense.
Taking V’s silence for agreement, Kirk slid an odd-looking device across the table. “Here’s a nifty
little gadget that will let you into the vehicle, no problem.”

One scan showed that the device was a complete dud. It was packed with a nonsensical mix of
signal jammers, mini-EMPs and ICE breakers that had a much higher chance of interfering with
each other than anything else. It could potentially be good for frying the ECU on a Hella, but
breaking into an Aerondight? Not a chance.

“Fine, I’ll klept your bloody Aerondight.” V stood up and left without as much as a goodbye.

——

Quick dive into NCPD’s database and V had the full details on the owner. A careful hack into
Militech systems, and V had his department, assistant’s desk extension and full meeting schedule.

Next, he sweet talked his way via the assistant and got placed on hold to the man himself.

“Cole Medina speaking.”

“Hello Mr. Medina. It’s John Linder.”

“Ah, yes. Hello Mr. Linder. My assistant tells me you needed to urgently talk about a tanks
shipment to the Arabian Peninsula? Such delicate matters are better discussed in person.”

“Yeah, sorry, choom.” V switched off his corpo manners and switched back to full-on Streetkid. “I
needed to talk to you urgently and this was the fastest way. Name’s V.”

“I’ve heard of you, V. Give me one reason to not drop this call right this second.”

“Easy. If you do, you may have to ring up Rayfield to get you a loan car, because you won’t find
your Aerondight where you left it last.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” The man on the other end of the line was visibly furious,
but at least kept the call going.

“Some weasel wants your ride. Hired me to klept it.” V shrugged, as if this was the most obvious
explanation in the world. “But, honestly, I’d rather just get rid of him instead.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?! Is this some kind of idiotic joke?! Did Stout put you up to
this?!”

Mention of Meredith Stout sent chills down V’s spine, but he kept his cool. If this guy knew
anything about the solo’s beef with Stout, V would already have Militech’s commando unit on top
of him.

‘Mind in the game, c’mon.’

“Nah, this isn’t a joke or a prank. I can’t stand this guy, but can’t just shoot him.”

“So I propose a deal. We pretend I stole your car, I deliver it to him while you track its location
whichever way you see fit. Once I hand it over, you can swoop in and recover it. Again, whichever
way you see fit.”

Corpos didn’t like to admit their methods to strangers, especially over the phone for the fear of
secret recordings that could bite them later. As an ex Arasaka Counterintelligence operative, V
knew all too well what would happen to Kirk when he got caught.

“Fine.” The Militech corpo on the other line finally said after a prolonged pause. “But if you come
even close to my car in the future…”

“Chill, my guy,” V interrupted, “I don’t give a shit about your car. Got one of those myself and I
barely drive it. The Caliburn is more of my kind of ridiculous vehicle.”

The merc smiled to himself at the shocked face of the corpo executive.

“How about this evening, then? If you don’t mind, leave the global lock off. I’ll be able to get in
with a simple hack that way. Will avoid any lasting damage.”

“Fine. Sending you coords of the parking lot. It’s the VIP level.”

V already knew where he was going, but was grateful for the consideration. “Cool, I’ll be there
around six pm. That okay?”
“Yes, yes,” Cole waved him off. “Whatever.”

“Settled.” V nodded. “Good doing business with you.”

“V?”

“Yeah?”

“Never contact me, ever again.”

“Will be my pleasure.” V dropped the call.

——

Judy was easy to spot from a mile away. Techie’s hair was longer and coloured in a new set of
neon colours, but the aesthetic was unmistakable nonetheless.

“Hey Jude!”

She turned in an instant and screamed ‘Veeeee!!!’ on top of her lungs before launching herself
towards V. He just about managed to catch the petite woman in a hug and spin her around before
putting her back down.

“Hey, choom!” She gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “Been too long!”

“It has! Really has.” Just being around his friend cheered V up. After all the earlier drama and the
mess with Kirk, he really needed this. “How ya been?!”

“Preem! Business is boomin’. Got me a whole new editing rig at Clouds. Looking to buy a flat
soon, too.”
“Heard you and Val are a full-on item these days?” V couldn’t contain a smile at the thought.

“Yeah! It’s gonna be our six months anniversary soon.” Techie’s face turned the colour of a ripe
tomato. “We’re making the trip to Oregon to celebrate.”

“I am so fucking happy for ya, Judes!” V embraced her in another hug, which the woman eagerly
returned.

“And what ‘bout you? You still have your… yknow? ”

They started walking down towards the market area of Japantown. V tried to push back all the
nostalgic memories and focus on the conversation instead.

“Yep, still dying.” The sheer length of time that V was stuck in this limbo between life and death
had made him somewhat desensitised to it at this point. Or perhaps it was the string of never-
ending life and death experiences that he kept living through?

“But the treatments help. Plus, I’m on a very good track to get what I need to solve all of it.”

“Really?! That’s awesome news!” Judy almost jumped at the positive news. “Lemme know if I can
help in any way.”

“Will do.”

“How’s Pan? She hadn’t called in aaages!” A pronounced pout suggested that Panam owed her
friend an apology.

“She’s been quite busy, Judes. First she had to sort out her clan, then she joined me in London.”

“Oh, is that so? So it’s you who keeps her busy, then?!”

“Hey, hey! It’s no easy feat to find a cure for this shit.” He pointed at the slot where the Relic sat.
“I’m just pulling your leg, you gonk,” Judy giggled. “I think it’s sooo sweet that she joined you.
Good for you, too. You wouldn’t last that long without someone sensible watching your back.”

“Hey! Enough with the sass, Alvarez!”

“Jeez! Few months with the Brits and you can’t take a joke anymore.”

There was a long pause between them before both exploded in loud laughter.

“You game for some noods? For old times’ sake?”

“Sure, why the hell not!”

——

“So you’re expanding your empire, aintcha?” V took an opportunity to divert the topic from his
exploits while Judy was slurping on a particularly large helping of ramen.

“I am indeed,” the techie answered once her mouth wasn’t completely full. “We’re taking over
another floor of the Megabuilding just to keep up with the inflow of new customers.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it sure is. I also want to open a BD studio there.”

“Back to producing smut BDs?”

“No, actually. Want it to be very PG. Well, not really. R-rated, not triple-X, ya know?”

“Tasteful nudity then, huh?” V gave her a cheeky wink.

“Smartass,” Judy laughed in response.

“Hello.” A voice at their backs called out suddenly, interrupting the conversation. “Are you V?”

“Yeah, but I’m kind of in the middle of something.” V spoke as he turned round to face whomever
had barged in on his quality time with Judy. In front of them stood a short bald man in a black suit
and tie. Behind him stood two bodyguards in bright synthleather jackets. Tyger Claws.

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Kamuto. I am here as an envoy for the Tyger Claws.”

“Oooh, we had one of those back at Clouds!” Judy offered as additional context, not that it told V
much.

“Ok, Kamuto, envoy of the Tyger Claws. What do you want from me?”

“Only to welcome you back to Night City and wish you good health and best of luck in your
endeavours.” He quickly turned to one of his guards. When he faced V again, there was an oblong
black lacquer box in his hands.

“Please accept this as a token of our goodwill.” Emissary passed the box to V and quickly retreated
three steps back, bowing continuously as he did so. He then proceeded to watch the merc intently,
clearly expecting for the man to check on its contents.

Curious himself, V popped the lid open to find a pair of pistols. Each was different from the other,
although it was clear that they were meant to come as a pair. One was engraved with silver tiger
motifs, while the other had golden dragons as its theme.

“This really isn’t necessary…” He closed the box, intending to pass it back, but the envoy had
simply shook his head.

“May these weapons serve you well against your enemies, V-sama.” He bowed and retreated
again. “I bid you farewell.”

With another deep bow, the trio left the restaurant.

“Well, that was weird.” V shrugged. “Anyway, where were we?”

The conversation flowed easily, as if they’ve never parted ways for longer than a few days. It was
really nice to see Judy again, and to hear about all of her exploits at Clouds, with Valerie and other
nomads, her plans to renovate the Laguna Bend cabin and a thousand other things that were going
on in her life. Unlike a thousand things that were going on in her life when they first met, these
were predominantly positive.

“Oh!” Judy’s face lit up as if she had a sudden revelation. “Speaking of weirdos that want to talk to
you.”

“Go on…”

“Some police detective dropped by a while back, looking for you. Left his contact deets. Want
them?”

“I might have a hunch who that is…” V rubbed his chin in contemplation, trying to remember the
name. “Sure, pass them on.”

After a quick round of drinks at a nearby bar, V and Judy parted with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Give a hug to Val from me, will you?”

“And you to Pan. You two gonks must visit, see the new club.”

“We will. I promise.”

——

There was another reunion stop to make.

“Hey Misty!”

He caught her in the middle of a tarot reading.

“V! So good to see you. Do you want a reading? I’m just wrapping up here.”

“Maybe later. But I’ll happily watch you as you finish this one. Who’s it for?”

“Myself, actually.”

“Ooh! Is this Lovers I spy?” V wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Ah shush,” Misty waved him off with a smile. “You’re not supposed to interrupt a reading.”

“Sorry, sorry!” V leant away to give her space.

“But you’ll tell me after, will ya?” He whispered, as if making sure no one else could overhear this
great secret.

“Yeah, yeah. And now - be quiet, Vincent!”

Misty was clearly happy with what the cards told her. A content smile hadn't left her lips as she
reshuffled and packed away the cards.

“Sooo?” V was so curious, he could burst. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Girl, actually.” Misty focused on her nails, refusing to look the merc in the eye.

“Oh… Sorry.” He really had no idea about much of Misty’s life before they were introduced by
Jackie. Even then, he was very guilty of not knowing much about her. She had that air of mystery
about her, but he still should’ve learnt more about one of his closer friends.
“Don’t be. It just sort of happened and now I don’t see myself with anyone else. Except…” She
was picking at her nails so intently, she was bound to scratch herself.

“Misty,” V reached out and put his hand over hers. “I’m sure he’ll want you to be happy.”

A long pause hung between them, but eventually Misty calmed down and raised her eyes up. She
was smiling.

“Soo?” V decided to gently continue with the questions, leaving plenty of room for Misty to drop
the subject if she desired to.

“It’s Mia. The bouncer at Lizzy’s. We met at your wedding out of all places, so you probably
deserve some credit for that.” Her hair bobbed lightly as she let out a quiet laugh.

“Ha.” V totally would take credit, but this wasn’t the time to make this about himself. “Glad you
found someone. She seems like she’ll be good to you.”

“I know she will.” Misty’s smile widened. “Plus Rita promised to kick her ass if she isn’t.”

This time they laughed together.

They proceeded to chat a bit longer. V gave the lowdown of his misadventures across the pond and
a brief summary of what brought him back. Misty asked about Panam and the nomads. Knowing
they were doing well brought her great comfort. She didn’t ask a thing about V’s dealings with
Hanako, and the merc knew why. There wasn’t anything particularly eventful to talk about there
anyway, so he skipped those bits completely.

Misty eventually talked him into getting a reading, after all. The outcome was somewhat
straightforward across most cards. There was the usual dose of death and rebirth (the Relic),
something about being hunted by a relentless pursuer (probably Stout), and love and care of friends
and family (that would be everyone around V). The confusing bit came in the form of upright
Empress, which Misty had explained usually corresponded with femininity and nurturing. V just
wrote it off as Panam’s care for him, which was impossible to deny.

“Alright, think it’s time I paid Vik a visit. Is he in?”

“He is. I pinged him that you were here a while back. He said to come down when you’re ready.”
“He has no other appointments tonight?”

“Nah. Probably just watching his fights.”

“Alright. Off I go then. Cya later, Misty. So glad to see you again!”

“Likewise, V. Drop by again while you’re still here.”

——

“Heyy, kid!” Still kicking, I see?” The ripper stood up from his stout chair and gave the merc a
bear hug.

“Just about Vik, just about,” V mumbled, feeling his insides being crushed by the ex-boxer.

“Come, come. Have a seat.” Vik gestured at the chair. “Let me see how well you’ve been looking
after your chrome.”

“Don’t want to chat about life first?”

“Let me see how much of that life is left in that scrambled brain of yours first, then we can talk
about the rest of it.”

“Fine.” V obediently slid into the chair. “You’re the boss here.”

“Damn straight, kid.” Without wasting more time, the ripper started on his diagnostics.

The only sounds coming out of his mouth as he studied brain scans and diagnostics reports were an
occasional ‘hmm’ or ‘uh-uh’.

“So, what’s the verdict, doc?” V asked when Vik finally stood up from behind the screen.
“Well… The bad news is you’re still dying.” Vik crossed his hands on his chest. “But I guess you
already know that. The good news is that ever since Silverhand was extracted, the pace had stalled
significantly. I’m guessing the meds that ‘Saka is making for you are a touch more potent than
whatever I could get my hands on, too.”

“So nothing terrible, then?” That was a relief.

“Nah. You still have time.” Vik’s brows suddenly furrowed. “I also noticed you’ve got yourself
some new chrome.”

“Ah you mean this?” The merc wiggled his new cybernetic leg. “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly a
conscious decision.”

“And the blades?” It suddenly became clear why the ripper sounded annoyed. It looked like V had
gone back on his promise to never use Mantis blades.

“These are different. None of that inhibitor shit like with the M-blades. Go check, if you like.” This
was true. The Wolverine claws had a surprisingly simple construction. There were no over-
engineered elements that were present in Mantis blades. It were those complicated cybernetics that
were the source of failures that produced so many cyberpsychos.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Vik was hidden behind a screen again.

20 minutes of various checks and inspections later, he popped back up.

“Well?” V looked at his friend expectantly.

“I gotta admit, kid… Never seen anything like that. So sophisticated, yet so simple. The metal is on
some other level, too. Where on earth did you get those?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was a police impound lot?”

“Knowing you, it may as well have.”

“It’s the truth, I swear!” V crossed his heart to reiterate his sincerity. “Anyway, enough about me.
How you been keeping, Vik? Any fun clients?”

“Noone that came even close to your gonk head, that’s for sure,” Vik smirked. “It’s usually just
short-circuited this, shattered that. The most ‘fun’ - if you can call it that - case I’ve had was this
guy with a black market dick implant…”

V couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Was it his second one, by any chance?”

“How did you know?” The ripper almost fell off his tiny stool from the shock.

The merc could only cover his face with his palm. “Some people just never learn…”

“Don’t tell me you were the guy who helped him the first-“

“Yepp…”

They both laughed loudly.

“See, this is what I mean, V. You’ve a talent to get into all sorts of random shit.” Vik shook his
head.

“Must suck for you at times. I mean, look at all this.” He gestured at V’s head. “But to an old man
like me it’s a breath of fresh air to hear about all of your crazy adventures.”

“I’m always happy to provide entertainment, Vik.”

“Don’t get me wrong, kid. I would rather you live a boring, dull, happy life without any Relics,
‘Saka and death sentences chasing you around the world. But gotta look at the silver linings, right?
At least it ain’t boring.”

“Always knew you were an optimist, Vik.”

“Alright, alright. Before we get further into my psychoanalysis… You wanna grab a beer and chat
about something that ain’t chrome or death?”
 “Sure. Let’s grab Misty on our way out and head to Lizzie’s.”

V could certainly use some more time with his friends before diving back into the depths of Night
City underworld.

Chapter End Notes

We are back to Night City, chooms!

I’ve got two one-shots involving David (and some others) from Edgerunners I want to
plug in first, but then we’ll be back to this one.
 Moonshot
Chapter Summary

V gets in touch with a certain detective to help him track where Vesper Lynd’s captors
may have taken her. The information leads him and his team to a rather unexpected
place.

Chapter Notes

A lot is happening in this chapter, so it’s taken longer (and it is longer than usual).
Enjoy the read.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Inevitably, V had to stop making social calls and start digging into where - and by whom - was
Vesper taken. The hacked ninja bot had only the immediate next step in its data. Presumably, the
hive mind-like AI saw no reason to explain the future steps - such instructions could be provided
when they were required.

It was time for good ol’ detective work, and V knew just the guy.

“Hey River, long time.”

“V!” The policeman-turned-PI looked genuinely surprised. “How long have you been back and
why none of my sources have notified me?”

“Just a day and a half,” the merc explained. “And I’m playing it on the down-low, so don’t be too
upset.”

“I’ll try to keep it that way for the time being, too.”

“Understood.” River was clearly capable of reading between the lines. “So no grand return of Night
City’s top merc, then? Shame. It would cause quite the stir, I’d imagine.”

“I’m guessin’ you aren’t calling to catch up, though. What can I do for you, V?”
“Right you are, River.” V liked this guy. Straight to the point, right out of the gates. “I’m looking
for someone who would’ve come into NC, potentially still here or may have moved elsewhere.
Could’a been escorted by a bunch of mysterious-looking cyber ninjas, but not a guarantee. Militech
might be involved.”

“Not much to go on there, I gotta say.” The PI scratched his head. “If I were you I would get your
hands on passenger manifests, see where there are unmarked VIPs or other ‘unknown
passengers’.”

“Top tier advice, thanks man!”

“No problem at all.” River nodded. “Unfortunately I’m coming up a little short on anybody from
my network who could point you in the right direction, but an old colleague of mine might help.”

“He’s a detective, one of the few straight-line cops still left.”

“There was a big drug trafficking stakeout a few years back, he might still have connections with
the guys who handle transportation logistics.”

“Neat! What’s his name?”

“Martin Riggs.”

“Ah,” V laughed at the irony. “Small world. I’ve been meaning to get in touch with Detective
Riggs on another matter.”

“Ahhh yes!” River recalled. “He’d taken quite a bit of interest in you a while back. Called me on
multiple occasions about it.”

“And you told him just how devilishly clever and handsome I am, no doubt?” V joked, prompting
a smirk from the ex-cop.

“Nah. Said you and me are friends and if he wanted more info he should just ask yourself. Guess
he finally did just that.”

“Guess so. Anyway, gonna go call Riggs. Thanks again, River. This has been a huge help.”
“No problem. Just let me know where to send the bill.” The PI winked before hanging up the call.

——

“V, I finally get to meet you.” Martin Riggs looked the merc up and down before extending his
hand for a handshake.

“Well, technically we’ve met before.” V corrected. “You were kind enough to let me get off with a
warning after a few traffic infractions.”

“Ah yes, of course! I totally forgot.” The detective smacked himself on the forehead. “I guess
Glover’s right - I am getting old.”

“Speaking of, where’s your partner?” V looked inside the police cruiser to check if the other man
was hiding in there.

“The hothead got himself shot this morning. Nothing serious, mind, but he’s in the hospital.”

“You don’t seem too broken up about it?” V raised an eyebrow.

“It’s just his shoulder. Will be like new in a coupla days.” Riggs waved off the merc’s concerns.
“He’s gutted he won’t get to meet you himself, though.”

“We’ve been kinda looking forward to this.”

“Seriously,” V shook his head, “why’re you so keen on finding more about me? I heard you were
pestering River about it at some point, as well.”

“Hah, so much for confidentiality!” The detective huffed. “Call it a professional fascination, if you
will.”

“I’ve dealt with criminals for the vast majority of my life. Gangers, solos, corpos, you name it.
Even had a brush up with a cyberpsycho once.” He lifted one of his trouser legs to show a chrome
leg. “Survived by the skin of my teeth, that one.”
“But you, you’re something else entirely, V. You have the longest rap sheet I’ve ever seen, and yet
not a single prosecution, or even a warrant. Your list of known associates would make a mayor
jealous, and that’s only the confirmed ones.”

“And, of course, there are the rumours that come closer to legends about your deeds in Night City,
both legal and not.”

“Okay, okay. I get it now.” It got a bit awkward to hear the cop go on and on about V’s extensive
activities. “So what, am I under arrest or something?”

He really didn’t want to hurt this guy, especially as the merc could really use the detective’s help.

“Nah, what’s the point?” Martin laughed. “I thought we could grab a coffee and I’d ask you a few
things. Keen to dispel some misconceptions, and alike.”

“Sure, that works for me.” V smirked. “But, ehh… I still feel bad for your partner.”

“Here’s an idea!” A lightbulb lit inside the merc’s head. “Let’s go see him together! We can grab
‘Get Well Soon’ doughnuts or whatever you cops eat these days on our way there!”

“Sure, I guess?” It was evident that the detective was not expecting such a suggestion. “I can act as
your police escort I guess. That way you won’t need to break another twelve laws before you get
there.”

“It ain’t breaking the law if you’re on ‘official business’, eh?” V winked at the older man. “But it’s
fine, I thought I’ll just hitch a ride with you. Never been in a police cruiser before.”

“What about your car?”

“Ah, I got all my rides outfitted with Delamain’s AI. He’s trialling an autopark management
programme on me.”

“Elon Musk would be so jealous,” Riggs whistled.

“Who?”
“Ah, right. I forget that you’re, like, half my age.” The detective shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“C’mon, get in. I know a good bakery on the way.”

“Can we put the lights on? Pleaseee?” The solo pleaded like an excited child.

“Fiiine.” Martin rolled his eyes at the juvenile request.

——

Surprise proved to be a success.

“NOOO FUCKING WAAAY!” was the injured cop’s first reaction when he realised who was
following behind his boss. “You did it. You crazy mo-fo, you actually did it!”

“Hey! Just because you’re high on painkillers, doesn’t mean you can address a superior that way.”
Riggs pointed a stern finger at the other policeman.

They talked for a while. V answered most questions truthfully, seeing no need to lie to these two.
He clarified that he wasn’t actually responsible for Saburo’s death - the original death, that is - but
that he was involved in Yorinobu’s downfall. Then came the question regarding his association
with Jefferson Peralez, Night City’s new mayor. That part had to be heavily generalised in order to,
firstly, avoid betraying Jefferson’s trust and, secondly, to avoid having to explain the whole
scheming AI angle. V then told them about his trip to London. Again, a lot of details were omitted
to avoid going down context rabbit holes.

“And now I’m back, tracking a certain person.” The merc finally concluded his tale. “Speaking of,
I could really use your help, Martin.” They’ve moved to a first-name basis somewhere towards the
second half of the meet-up.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Riggs nodded.

——
The contact was a data engineer responsible for maintaining the AI systems that managed the air
traffic above the whole of Night City. Human dispatchers were done away with years ago, as it
wasn’t physically possible to keep an eye on every AV that was buzzing around the city. A trio of
AIs replaced humans, but still needed maintenance and oversight.

From the engineer, V got a tip as to where he should look and how to spot documents, where the
aim was to not disclose the passenger’s identity.

Hacking into the system proved beyond simple, but that’s where easy bits ended. There were
thousands of logs from the past two days alone, all of which needed to be checked. The crafty merc
derived a clever algorithm that significantly increased the speed at which he could exclude
irrelevant files, but even after that the task still took him over seven hours of non-stop diving.

‘That looks like the one!’ If he wasn’t in cyberspace, the solo would jump from his seat.

He had two different passenger manifests in front of him. Both were very low on details, but
aligned in passenger count and the drop-off point of one was the pick-up point of the other.

‘Switched AVs to make tracing them more difficult, clever fuckers.’

What was most interesting was the final destination - Orbital Air Space Center. Another hour of
scouring the space station’s logs, which were far less numerous, and V had the confirmation that
the most likely destination was Moon Base Alpha. One of the earlier settlements on Earth’s
satellite, it was less of a base and more of a city by that point. No one corpo could claim full
control, but Militech had sizeable presence. Moon wasn’t under jurisdiction of any government, so
corpos enjoyed a particularly lax environment. That allowed for some activities that would not be
attempted back on Earth, from weapon tests to science experiments. All of that only added to V’s
certainty that Vesper was whisked away there.

“My boy V is going to space!” Johnny’s voice echoed inside the solo’s head. The rocker would’ve
loved to come along for the ride. He probably was powerful enough to just go on his own at that
stage, though.

‘Now… Where does one get a spaceship?’

——

“Moon Base Alpha, hm?” Hanako took the news surprisingly well.

When V requested for a lift to the Moon, he was expecting to at least be quizzed on the validity of
his hunch and asked to justify the ludicrous costs that he was requesting for the megacorp to incur.

“That makes a lot of sense for Militech to take her there.” The CEO rubbed her chin and nodded in
agreement.
“Still not a hundred percent that Militech is behind it.” V corrected her, but in reality it was more of
a reminder to himself to stay objective to the facts.

“So be it. Good work, V.” She smiled at the solo. “I knew putting my trust in you was
worthwhile.”

“Too early to thank me.”

“Not at all. You did find Lynd in the end. If it wasn’t for this unfortunate intervention from a third
party, I imagine we would be very close to achieving our goal by now.”

“But you’re right. We still need to see this through. Have you given any thought on how you’ll
rescue the brother, Charles?”

“Taking this one rescue at a time, to be honest.” The solo shook his head.

“Makes sense,” the Arasaka CEO nodded. “I’ll make arrangements for your journey today. You’ll
have to go via Moon Base Theta - an Arasaka-controlled facility. That way we can ensure that your
presence remains a secret for longer.”

“Good plan. I’ll need to take some backup - two or three people.”

“I’ll request that Oda accompany you as well. The operations on the Moon bases are somewhat
detached from the main body of Arasaka. You will need my representative around to ensure you
get full cooperation.”

“Sure, why not.” V warmed up to the samurai in the time he’d been around Hanako more. Oda
turned out to have a rather pleasant personality, it just took him a while to warm up to someone.
The merc considered the time when he convinced the bodyguard to join him for a street race as one
of his personal achievements.

“It’s settled, then.” Hanako walked back to her desk in order to start making calls.

——
“If only my pa could see me now.” Mitch looked at his reflection in the mirror, admiring the space
suit. “Mitch Anderson going to space. Who would’ve thought!”

“Looking good, Mitch.” V patted the nomad on the back while checking the two of them out. The
merc felt surprisingly calm, considering that they were only hours away from blasting off-world.

It was Panam’s idea to take the mechanic with them. As pretty much everything in space was
engineered in one way or another, the gearhead’s skills would come very handy. Hanako was kind
enough to arrange an airlift from Arizona. Compared to a space mission, one measly AV journey
probably felt like pocket change.

Despite her best efforts, including threats to stowaway onboard the shuttle, it was deemed far too
dangerous for Violet to join them. The teenager was left in the capable hands of Mama Welles,
who almost immediately started to instruct Vi in Night City’s street wisdom. Having gone through
the same crash course himself, V was glad there was someone to show the ropes to the previously
sheltered girl.

After two hours of safety and security briefings, the quartet of would-be astronauts consisting of V,
Panam, Mitch and Oda were finally ready to go.

The launch was successful. V would have to admit that he hadn’t enjoyed being crushed into the
back of his seat. Panam described the sensation as “feeling my organs get stuck to my spine”,
which was a fairly accurate assessment.

The rest of the journey was nothing short of magnificent, though. Even Oda lost his trademark
composure when the Earth came into full view.

“Woah!” Panam gasped. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

Watching an entire planet in front of him, a sense of own insignificance dawned on V. His mind
started to cycle through fundamental questions about existence, meaning of life and everything else
that normally popped up into one’s head in such moments.

He ultimately concluded that, while individually, people were infinitely small in the grand scheme
of things, each and every person could create a world of difference to someone else. And that was
enough.

His thoughts turned to the person that did exactly that for the merc - Panam. The nomad smiled
sweetly and gave him a little wave when she caught V stare at her blankly.

V approached his wife and embraced her from the back, allowing them both to enjoy the view of
their home together.
“If you told me you’ll take me to the Moon, I’d have proposed to you myself,” the nomad joked.
She grabbed one of V’s hands and brought it up to her lips for a soft kiss. Their rings clinked
against each other quietly as she did that, giving a confirmation of sorts - whatever decisions that
brought them to this moment were the right ones.

“Wait, are those socks?!” Mitch pointed at a pair of frozen pieces of cloth as they floated past
them. The interruption was such a stark contrast to the mood that V and Panam were in just a
moment ago, that the pair could only burst out laughing.

——

Oda requisitioned a moon rover that they used to get from their original landing area of Moon Base
Theta to their target destination - Base Alpha. Getting entry was surprisingly easy - they simply
walked through with one of the tourist groups. V still struggled to fully reconcile with the concept
of ‘space tourism’.

“So, where do we start to look for our VIP?” Oda asked as soon as they changed out of their space
suits.

“Same as always - in a bar.”

They found the first watering hole that looked decent enough and started asking round if there
were Alpha equivalents of Night City’s fixers or other kinds of data brokers that could be of help.
Unfortunately, the place was duller than a corpo party with a ban on any sort of substance. All
patrons were half-catatonic night shift workers who knew nobody and cared for nothing.

V was about to call for a change of venue when he spotted a familiar high-viz jacket with a green
logo on the back leaving the bar. A bob of pastel-purple hair sticking over the high collar
confirmed his suspicions further.

“Hey!” The merc called out as he chased the fleeting figure. “Lucy, wait up!”

At the sound of her name, the young woman turned. Judging by her expression he was one of the
last people she would’ve expected to see.

“V?!! The fuck’re you doing on the Moon?!”

“Eh…” The solo scratched the back of his head. “Is there a less public place we can talk?”
“Sure, my condo should do the trick.” After the initial shock wore off a little, Lucy seemed to be
happy to meet a familiar face.

“Can I, uh, bring friends?”

——

The flat couldn’t be considered small, by any means, but it definitely wasn’t designed to easily fit
five people in it, three of which were rather bulky men. Seeing the guests do their best to settle into
various places around the single-room apartment, Lucy looked a mix of bemused and surprised.
Oda tried his best not to knock anything down, but with his size it was more of an inevitability than
a possibility. Mitch didn’t even bother trying to perch somewhere - he was far too preoccupied with
all the moon tech around the flat that helped the inhabitant function in such an environment.

V realised some introductions were in order.

“Thanks for making time, Lucy. Panam you’ve met before.” The Aldecaldo chieftess gave a warm
smile to the young netrunner.

“This is Mitch. He’s also a nomad. And - as you can probably tell - he’s a bit of a gearhead.” He
pointed at the nomad gearhead.

“And this is Oda.” The samurai gave a low bow, missing a nearby flower vase by half a
centimeter.

“Oda? As in Hanako Arasaka’s bodyguard?” Lucy’s eyebrows rose up. “How can you live with
yourself after getting into bed with that corpo bitch?!”

“Sorry, poor choice of words.” The apology was addressed to Panam, who exhaled sharply at the
implication of V and Hanako. The netrunner completely ignored Oda, who had to actively restrain
himself from saying something at such a rude mention of his ultimate boss.

“It’s complicated,” V responded.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t fry your brain right this moment.” Lucy’s voice was cold.
“You should’ve known better than to ask for my help while working with Arasaka.”

“Well…” The merc shrugged, unphased by the threat. “For one, you can’t do it to all of us. I know
quickhacks aren’t your strong suit.”

“I doubt David would’ve wanted you to die by defending some nebulous ideal of revenge on a
megacorp.” It didn’t escape the twitch on Lucy’s face that the mention of her presumed dead love
had triggered.

“But also,” V continued, “this isn’t the Arasaka that schemed to experiment on David, or one that
ruined your life.” The implication that he knew of Lucy’s earlier life was a subtle one, but he was
certain she understood it.

“We’ve kinda got rid of all of those people already.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Lucy’s eyes were daggers, trained at V the whole time. She most likely
assumed he was the main threat in the room. While that assumption was not inaccurate, taking him
out wouldn’t bring her any meaningful outcomes besides death at the hands of his companions.
The netrunner clearly accepted that, hence she let the merc continue with his explanation.

“No, seriously. Yorinobu is in a forced exile. Before we got rid of him, he killed the vast majority
of clan heads himself. Saburo’s backup copy is no more, killed together with Smasher’s body when
the emperor decided to use the borg as his next vessel.”

“Smasher’s dead?!” Lucy lost all composure at the news. She snapped out of it almost
immediately. She looked down at herself and realised she jumped out of her seat. Without another
word, she sat back down and looked expectantly back at the merc.

“Girl, you really do live on another planet here.” Panam grabbed a datapad from the table, typed
something in and passed the tablet over to Lucy.

The netrunner watched the CCTV clip where V shot Smasher right between the eyes. When it
finished, she scrolled back to the exact moment when the merc pulled the trigger and watched it
again. A single tear rolled down her cheek, which Lucy wiped off with a swift motion.

“I can’t believe it… He’s actually dead…” She said finally after a whole minute of silence.

“I really don’t know how you managed to miss it,” Panam spoke. “It was all over the Net for like
three days. That’s an eternity compared to the usual fifteen minutes of fame viral videos usually
get.”

“I stay away from Earth’s Net,” Lucy explained. “Reminds me of too many things I don’t want to
be reminded of.”

“Reminds me too much of him. ”

“Oh yeah, about that…” V started, but the young woman’s glare at the implied mention of her
boyfriend gave him pause.

“What?!” Lucy demanded when the merc didn’t immediately elaborate.

“You might want to sit back down for this one.” V pointed out that she stood up again. When the
woman landed back on the couch, he continued. “David’s not, umm… David’s alive, actually.”

“WHAT?! HOW?!” The netrunner ran towards V and grabbed the man by the collar. Everyone
else rose as well, ready to drag her away, but the merc raised a hand to indicate everything was
fine.

“Don’t you fucking dare toy with me like that!” Tears streamed down both sides of Lucy’s face. “I
don’t care if these friends of yours kill me afterwards, but if you’re lying, I’ll pop your head open
with my bare hands if I have to!”

“Calm down, Lucy. It’s true, David is alive.” V didn’t take his eyes off hers for even a moment.
He waited for her grip to ease off a bit before explaining further. “He was in cold storage at the
Tower. ‘Saka couldn’t let their most promising test subject be blown up just like that.”

“Where is he?? Why’s he not with you??” Lucy’s eyes darted around the room, as if looking for
where they could’ve stashed David to keep him out of her sight.

“He’s in bad shape.” The merc continued to explain calmly. “They’re working on reversing his
cyberpsychosis, but it’s no easy task.”

“It’s an impossible task,” the young woman cut him off.

“It’s not possible just yet, but there’s hope. We have the top researchers on it as we speak.”

“And it’s all bankrolled by Arasaka, by the way”

“I have to go back, have to see him!” Lucy turned round, probably to start packing, but V caught
her wrist at the last second.

“You will. I swear on my life, you’ll see him.” V’s tone was dead-serious. It was rare that he would
completely give up on any kind of jokes or snarky comments, but this was most certainly such an
occasion. The other three present could only watch the exchange as it unfolded. Panam really felt
for this poor woman. If she was in Lucy’s shoes, she’d react in the same way.

“But first,” V continued, “we really need your help. We’re looking for someone extremely
important here. Your skills and knowledge of this base will be invaluable in helping us track them
down.”

“Do that for me, and we’ll take you straight to David. We’ve got a ship on standby.”

“Heh.” To everyone’s surprise, Lucy smirked. “You levelled up a bit from cruising in Delamain to
cruising in ‘Saka space shuttles, huh, V?”

“What can I say?” The merc smiled. It was a good sign that the netrunner saw humour in this
situation.

“Ok. What do you want me to do?” Having regained her composure, Lucy wiped the streaks of
mascara off her cheeks and sat back down. She had her game face on.

“Help us locate her, for starters. Name’s Vesper Lynd, she’s a scientist. Primary suspect is
Militech, but I don’t want past history to divert attention from-”

“Nah. It’s definitely Militech,” Lucy interrupted.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve been monitoring ship traffic…” She was about to dive into the rest of the explanation,
but noticed people were looking at her funny. “What? It’s really fucking boring here on most days!
I gotta pad the time somehow.”

“Anyway, ship traffic. Militech had some super-duper-secure shuttle with some super-duper-secret
VIP arrive two days ago. Said VIP came or was brought together with a massive contingent of
soldiers and some weird as fuck cyborgs on top of that.

“You mean these cyborgs?” V flicked her a photo that he took back in London.

“Yup, that’s them,” the netrunner nodded.

“Fan-fucking-tastic…” The merc was secretly hoping they wouldn’t run the risk of encountering
the blasted ninja-bots ever again.

“Ok, so we know it’s Militech. How do we get into their base?”

“Their complex is a maze.” With a hand wave, Lucy summoned a projection of Alpha’s map. She
pivoted and zoomed in until a network of uniform buildings appeared on screen. The base was,
indeed, massive. Finding one person in there would be very much akin to looking for a needle in a
haystack.

“First we’ll need to find out which block our VIP had been confined to.”

“You’ll need to hack into their systems,” V stated matter-of-factly.

“Should be doable.” Lucy nodded.

“Never seen you pass up a netrunning job, V.” Panam voiced her surprise.

“She’s better.”

“I’m better.”

V and Lucy said at the same time.

——

“She’s in the high security confinement sector.” Lucy stated as soon as she returned from a deep
dive into the Net. She nodded thanks to Panam, who passed her a replacement synthskin cover for
her port before settling back into the couch to debrief the team.

“That’s bad news.” She turned to Oda. “How much can we rely on Arasaka’s support in this
case?”

“Do you want to start another corporate war?!” The samurai stared at her like some sort of mad
person. “If we are moving against another corporation, I can’t be involved at all.”

“So it’s just the three of us, then.” V looked at his nomad companions. “We’ve had worse.”
“Four,” Lucy corrected.

“You sure?” V didn’t want to endanger the young netrunner more than was necessary.

“Hell yeah! I’ve been itching for a good gig. Nothing fun is ever happening around here.”

“Do you have a plan of how to get us in? I doubt the front door method will work.” Mitch studied
the map of the Militech facility with a furrowed brow.

“We’ll go from the bottom. There’s a complicated system of old underground tunnels that used to
be the original base. They’ve built new stuff over them now, but a lot of the structures remain
intact.”

“If we’re careful, they won’t even realise where we came from and where we’d gone.”

“Great, more scurrying around tunnels…” V sighed. That seemed to be the default option for him
as of late.

“Who’s so important that Militech literally takes them off-world to keep away from you? And why
are you willing to go this far to get them back, literally and figuratively?”

V sighed at the question that had a very, very complicated answer. “Heard of Secure Your Soul
program?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve got the prototype chip right here…” The merc proceeded to give an abridged version of
the Relic situation and where the quest to save himself had taken him so far.

The young woman listened carefully, not interrupting once until he had finished.

“A lot to unpack here.” She said finally, giving her head a shake as if to ensure this wasn’t a part of
some madcap dream.

“Silverhand, as in the rockerboy terrorist?”

“Yup.”

“And you raided ‘Saka Tower, but now you’re all chooms with Hanako Arasaka?”

“Yup.”

“And you’ve been dying for the past year…”

“Mhm.”

“Even when you were helping David out after Maine and Dorio died?”

“Oh yes. Johnny rode shotgun for that whole episode. Let’s just say he wasn’t the biggest fan of
me spending time on that, but he came round eventually.”

“Fuck me…” Lucy covered her face with both hands and pulled down.

“I mean… Wow!” She looked at V in a new way. “You’re batshit crazy. You know that, right?”

“So I keep telling him,” Panam smirked. Oda and Mitch both nodded in eager agreement.

“So this Vesper Woman we’re rescuing. Is she what, a miracle healer of some kind?”

“Not quite. She runs a cloning clinic.” V decided there was no point to beat around the bush, now
that all cards were going on the table.

Lucy looked like she was about to ask a question, but changed her mind. “You know what? I’ll just
go ahead and believe that totally unbelievable premise. It’s not much of a departure compared to
everything else that I’d just heard.”

“So, you’ll get a V two-point-oh?”

“Pretty much,” the merc shrugged.

Lucy said nothing for a while. She stared at nothing in particular while playing with a strand of her
hair.

“My terms have changed,” she said finally. “I want the same for David. New body, no chrome in
sight.”

“Hold your horses.” V knew he had to pick his words carefully when it came to the question of
David’s wellbeing. “It’s not that easy for him. Cyberpsychosis is as much in the mind as it is in the
flesh.”

“Plus, his main body is perfectly fine.”

“But I’m not saying no to this. If that’s the right choice, we’ll make it happen.”

V was painfully aware of the fact that the list of people who he owed a clone was growing by the
day.

“Ok.” Lucy conceded. “I can live with that.”

“But, if-“

“Hold your threats, girlie.” Mitch interrupted her. “We get it.”

“Sorry.” The young woman lowered her gaze, realising her emotions almost got the best of her yet
again.

“How soon can you figure a way in?” V was keen to finalise the planning.

“Seven hours?” Lucy offered after a quick mental calculation.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. Let’s aim for go-time tomorrow night.”

“Days don’t work the same here. Let’s just say eight PM? Then I can squeeze in a nap
beforehand.”
 “Sounds good.” V nodded with a smile.

A loud crash forced everyone to turn towards the source. V, Mitch and Panam instinctively
reached for their weapons. The offender was Oda, who finally managed to knock down the
doomed flower vase.

“My apologies.” The samurai looked beyond awkward at his clumsy mistake.

“So, uh…” V turned to Lucy. “Have you got hotels around here?”

Chapter End Notes

How was it? I’m mindful that the way Lucy is introduced in Nightcall ended up being
kinda backwards, with the first meeting between her and V happening in the upcoming
chapter of the other work, but oh well!
 The Rescue of Vesper Lynd
Chapter Summary

The crew, with Lucy in tow, proceed with their daring plan to rescue Vesper.

Chapter Notes

This took absolute ages, but here we are!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“So, here’s the plan!” V smacked both hands on the dining room table of Lucy’s lunar apartment.

Rested and refreshed, even the young netrunner who ended up diving throughout the night, the
team was all gathered and ready to go.

“Mitch - you’re our getaway driver, obviously.”

“More like a caddy boy, really,” the veteran nomad joked. He was referring to the ride that they
managed to procure for the job. With space in the space port being at a premium, all vehicles were
particularly compact. As such, their ride was more akin to a stretched-out MaiMai or a golf cart
than an actual car.

“Panam. you’ll cover us.” The Aldecaldo chieftess was armed with Arasaka-issue railgun that
fared much better in low-gravity environments than any Earth weapons would. Despite her initial
complaints about having to rely on equipment she didn’t pick and tune for herself, the fiery nomad
eventually conceded that even her sharpshooting skills had to take the rules of physics into
consideration.

“Oda,” V turned to the Arasaka samurai, “since you can’t be anywhere near the Militech base
when we get inside, you’re in charge of getting all of our space-fairing equipment ready and the
moon rover primed.”

“Understood,” the bodyguard nodded curtly. “Anything else?”

“Nah, just hang out and look pretty.” V gave the stern man a wink before turning to the last
member of their rescue party. “Lucy, you sure you want to come with us? We’ll take you to Earth
regardless.”

“Yes, yes,!” The purple-haired edgerunner rolled her eyes at the repetitive question. “Plus, you got
no chance of getting through the tunnels on your own. And I ain’t even gonna start about the
Militech security systems.”

“Ok then,” V nodded. “And thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“And listen everybody,” legendary merc looked at his companions one by one, “if things go south,
make sure you grab Vesper and delta the fuck out of this base as soon as we can. Even if I get
captured, she takes priority.”

“Mitch?” He returned back to the nomad mechanic.

“Yeah?”

“Your job is to drag this one,” he nodded at Panam, “out of here by force if it comes to it.”

“What’s the bloody point of rescuing the cloner if you’ll get stuck here?” Panam asked a very valid
question.

“I’ll work something out, Triple-A style.” V reached out for his wife’s hand and brought it to his
lips to reassure her. “I’ll be fine, Pan, I promise.”

“You fucking better!” She pulled her hand away and used it to give him a preventive slap on the
shoulder. It was clear to everyone, even Oda and Lucy who didn’t know the woman too well, that
she was just acting out from the nerves.

“Ok then!” V raised index fingers of both of his hands to the ceiling before swinging them
forward, as if rushing his crew along. “Let’s ride!”

——
“Who am I even supposed to shoot from up there?” Panam looked at the vantage point located
three floors up from street level. It had a good view of the Militech facility’s entrance, but that was
about it. Since most of the action was to take place inside, she, understandably, felt a bit
redundant.

“Watch it when fifty Militech guards rush our would-be rescuer.” Mitch joked from behind the
wheel of his toy car. He might’ve been kidding, but that was a very likely scenario, especially if
either V or Lucy failed at being stealthy enough.

“Ready?” Lucy asked the veteran merc as he finished loading up on space weapons and ammo.

“Lead the way.” V nodded with a confident smile in young netrunner’s abilities as a guide through
forgotten lunar architecture.

They wished good luck to Mitch and Panam, who responded in like and commenced with their
subterranean expedition.

The old moon tunnels were exactly what V expected to see - old, cramped, dusty and dark. What he
didn’t expect to see were the ginormous, at least compared to their earthly cousins, rats that
scurried all over the place. Thankfully, the rodents were still quite skittish and hid in the shadows
when exposed by the light beam from V’s or Lucy’s flashlights.

“What do they eat here, steroids?” V couldn’t help but comment after they encountered yet another
chonker.

“I suspect it’s something to do with a difference in gravity,” Lucy speculated.

“Mhm,” the merc mumbled grumpily. “Let’s get out of this part before we encounter the ninja
turtles too§.

“Who?”

“Nevermind.”
They walked in silence for a while, busy watching their steps to avoid falling over a piece of debris
or tripping up on a space rat that was too slow to run away. Lucy led the way, stopping from time
to time to double check the route that she’d charted back on the surface. Any network transmitters
were long left in disrepair and without power, so they only had offline maps and their best guesses
to guide them. Eventually, the pair reached what looked like a vault door that was operated by a
complex authentication device.

“Is this the edge of the Militech facility?” The older merc asked his companion.

“Right you are,” Lucy nodded. “They don’t even bother guarding it with mechs. Think no one will
even try breaching this.”

“Must be thinking nobody is this batshit crazy?” V smirked.

“Or that skilled.”

“Well, they ain’t seen nothing yet. What do you want me to do?” Veteran solo was more than
happy to defer decisions to the more skilled netrunner.

“I’ll need to jack in from this side to open the gate, but you’ll need to hold it open from the other
once you pass through so that it doesn’t close before I can join.” The purple-haired woman pulled
her personal link and held it out, ready to begin their incursion.

“Sounds easy enough,” V nodded.

“For you, yeah… I’ll be the one to deal with all Black ICE and whatever else defences they’ve
installed on here.”

“As I say - easy!” The man winked cheekily, refusing to let the mood get too serious . Not like they
were about to sneak into one of the biggest military facilities on the light side of the moon, or
anything.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” The easygoing attitude was clearly infectious, as the young woman
couldn’t help but smile in response.
“But you have.” V responded mysteriously.

“Tell me about it later.” Lucy’s eyes were already shining cyber-blue as she primed her hacks.
“Ready?”

“Go for it!” V pulled out his own link, prepared to jack in on the other side.

“See you in a minute.”

——

“So, about your comment from earlier…” Lucy ventured as they made their way through slightly
cleaner tunnels. “What did you mean by that?”

“It’s not a bad thing, or anything.” V preempted in an attempt to prevent any potential
misunderstanding. “But I’ve noticed that you’re more direct, don’t hesitate to demand what you
want and what you are due. Pretty sure you wouldn’t hesitate to take it yourself if you saw a
possibility, too.”

“Seeing the love of your life go psycho and then get dismantled piece by piece by Adam Smasher
in front of you does that to a person.” Her response was delivered with a clinical tone of such
coldness that it wouldn’t be surprising if it actually lowered the temperature of the tunnel around
them.

“I can relate, I think…” V saw his share of terrible things, but the mere thought of David’s fate
befalling Panam and, to make things infinitely worse, him witnessing it in person crushed his heart.
Flashbacks of the ERIZ3D braindance where Panam got killed by an Arasaka hit squad bubbled up
to the surface of his memory, bringing a burning sense of grief with them. None of those events
were real, but the effect on the merc totally was.

“I owe you an apology, by the way.” Lucy’s face was suddenly marked by a bittersweet smile.
“Don’t think I ever properly thanked you for all that you’ve done for David, for me, for the crew.
You’ve tried more than most, perhaps more than any of us… myself included.”

“Funny you say that…” V’s smile matched hers in its sentiment. “I was going to apologise to you
and him for not doing enough. I kinda vanished when he needed me most…”
“Been feelin’ guilty about that ever since, to be honest.”

“You are as bad as David.” To V’s surprise, Lucy laughed at his deep dark admission. He wasn’t
offended, it seemed like she had a reason for it. “He would be exactly the same - always feeling
guilty that he didn’t do more.”

“What did Becca call your effect on David?” She stopped for a moment and looked up to the
ceiling while trying to remember the exact wording. “Night City Jesus, resurrecting a gonk’s will
to live?”

V couldn’t help but laugh loudly, scaring every mega-rat in their immediate vicinity. “And here I
thought she called me that only to my face.”

“Oh, she called you many things not to your face,” the netrunner smirked. “Best ass in Night City,
Gun Daddy, Sexy Samurai…”

She could probably go on for longer, but V’s reaction was just too funny to keep a straight face
over, prompting Lucy to burst out in a hysterical bout of laughter. The merc’s face was a mix of
cringe, horror and disgust topped with an extra serving of cringe and sprinkled with concentrated
awkwardness.

“I am kidding,” she conceded in-between giggles. “Only some of these are true.”

That brought the stunned merc not even the slightest bit of comfort.

“How’s David, by the way?” The moon-dweller mercifully changed the subject.

“Not gonna lie, not great.” V shook his head. “I would give you false hope if I said he’s out of the
woods.”

“He’s alive, that’s what matters.” Lucy took the report surprisingly well. “Plenty of others weren’t
so lucky, like Becca…”

“Yeah…” V noticed a palpable emptiness in his stomach at the mention of the atomic shortie.
“Speaking of, found her shotgun. You want it?”

“What am I gonna do with a shotgun?” Lucy gestured at herself. “I ain’t Becca, or Dorio. Heavy
weapons ain’t my thing.”

“You keep it.”

“I am kinda…” The merc cringed at what he was about to admit to. “Terrible with a shotgun,
actually.”

“V?! Bad at something?!” The purple-haired netrunner feigned shock and awe. “C'est impossible!”

“Well,” she smirked when her little joke prompted a chuckle from the man, “keep it safe for David.
He’ll make good use of it now that he won’t be able to run around punching everyone and
everything in slow-mo.”

It was infinitely optimistic of her to assume her boyfriend would recover enough to be able to run
gigs again, but V wasn’t in the business of crushing his friends’ spirits so he didn’t correct her.

“You’re an optimist, aintcha?” He responded instead.

“Wouldn’t peg myself as one,” the woman lowered her head slightly, “but when a Night City
legend himself travels all the way to the Moon to tell you your input is alive… Makes you think,
yknow?”

She gave him a sly wink.

“Also,” Lucy added swiftly, “look who’s talkin’! Gotta be one hell of a ‘glass half full’ kinda guy
to think you can cheat death for the second time.”

“Third, technically…” V snorted.

“Hu-uhh?!” The netrunner almost tripped when she involuntarily jerked her head back at the
groundbreaking admission.

“Long story, tell you some other time,” he promised.

“Fine, we’re here anyway.” Lucy pointed upwards at a welded shut manhole.

“Gimme a few, I’ll melt it open.” She pulled out a plasma torch that hooked up to her Monowire.

“Neat gadget.” V made a ‘not bad’ face.

Ten minutes later, the merc peeked through the newly created opening to check if there was
anyone around. Finding no guards, he pulled himself up before helping Lucy.
“What now?” The netrunner asked. After all, her part was to get them in - a task that she fulfilled
successfully.

“And now,” V pointed upwards at a ventilation pipe, ”yours truly gets to climb a bit more. Feel
free to wait here or climb back down.”

“Here’s fine,” Lucy said. She clearly wasn’t too keen on going back to the dark, musty tunnel full
of oversized rodents on her own.

“Okay then. I won’t be long, promise!” With a forceful pull, the solo dislodged the metal mesh
from its housing, making an opening that was wide enough for him to climb into.

——

Finding the cell block was surprisingly easy. V ended up taking only one wrong turn which took
him to a set of meeting rooms, where he’d heard a whole bunch of things that nobody outside of
Militech should’ve been privy to. That included a bitching session about the CEO as well as a
rather steamy fucking session that most certainly included more than two people. As tempted as he
was to jump out of his hidey-hole and yell ‘busted!’, such a prank would cost the entire operation
and, quite likely, his life.

In the end, the merc had to quietly shuffle backwards in the tight air tunnel until he eventually
reached a fork that allowed him to try another route. At the end of that he landed above a narrow
corridor lined with sealed security doors on both sides - the detainment block. He couldn’t quite
see the people inside, but hacking into individually-isolated control units provided him with the
info on those locked up inside. That was more than enough to proceed with the search.

Soon enough he saw the name he was looking for.

The whole place relied on automated sentries so much that V didn’t need to worry about alerting
any guards. The cameras succumbed to his quickhacks quickly enough. Soon, the merc was free to
roam around the prison, arousing plenty of attention from the detainees who must’ve been
surprised to see a living being coming by.

“Hello there,” V said as the door to Vesper’s cell slid open.

“V?!” The scientist gazed at him with a shocked expression. “How the fuck did you even get
here?!”

“Asked a unicorn nicely,” the merc quipped. “Get up, it’s time to bounce.”

The woman was too surprised by the sudden rescue so she simply complied. They walked in
silence up until reaching the air vent where V had descended from not five minutes ago.

“Up you go!” The man jerked his chin upwards to indicate the direction of travel.

“In there?” Vesper’s pupils dilated at the sight of a narrow metal tube above.

“Yup. What’s the problem?” V asked.

“Nuh-uh. Can’t do tight spaces.” The scientist shook her head fervorously.

“Seriously?!” The merc huffed with exacerbation. Of course his best chance at survival that he
needed to smuggle out of a top-security corpo base had to be claustrophobic.

“FINE!” He whisper-shouted. “Wait here.”

——

Vesper Lynd had been surprised this much only twice before in her entire life.

First time was when her sixth grade best friend proposed to her with a ring-shaped lollipop in the
middle of recess.

Second time was when Alt Cunningham ghosted her after both of them had just proclaimed love
for each other the night before.

Her cell door opening with V standing on the other side of it was now the third.
The merc that unceremoniously invaded her life not even a week prior was about to also take the
fourth spot on that list, too.

Not even five minutes after he disappeared into the terrifying-looking air vent, V emerged from the
other side of the door that led to the guard’s quarters. He looked a little worse for wear than when
he departed, but was otherwise unharmed.

“How did you-“ Vesper didn’t even have the right words to complete the question. The sheer fact
that this scruffy merc from Night City who somehow found her all the way in the outskirts of
London was now standing in front of her on the fucking MOON was beyond belief. And that was
coming from someone who grew clones - a strictly mythical practice, even for 2077’s standards -
for a living.

“How’d you think?” V twisted one of his arms, unsheathing a triplet of razor-sharp blades which
he quickly retracted back. “With extreme prejudice, of course.”

It was terrifying to realise that he was so casual about the fact that he’d just cleared a whole
garrison of prison guards just to get her out.

“And who is that?” Vesper finally noticed a woman of incredible beauty, worthy of every billboard
of London, Tokyo or Night City. Pastel-purple hair fell evenly around the angular, but not harshly-
proportioned face. The piercing-green eyes completed the look that could only be described in one
way and one way only - femme fatale.

If Vesper’s heart wasn’t forever surrendered to the woman who was now an all-powerful AI, she
would have fallen for this perfect specimen in a heartbeat.

“You’re my ticket back to earth,” the unknown woman said, without answering the question.

“This is Lucy.” V answered instead. “She helped me get to you.”

“And now, we gotta delta.”

“What? Through the front door?!” Vesper felt her eyes bulge with surprise at the suggestion.

“Well,” the merc shrugged, “you ain’t gonna walk through a bunch of tight tunnels back with us
now, will ya?”

He grasped her issue with tight spaces surprisingly well.

“So be it,” the Brit nodded. “Lead the way.”

——

Lucy was quite surprised by V’s leniency with their rescue. If it was up to her, she’d shove this
woman into the air duct with or without her permission. She could always be gagged if she
screamed, after all. Denying the safest escape route on the grounds of some silly phobia felt idiotic,
to say the least.

And yet, this was V’s op, so he was the one in charge of making good or bad decisions.

They darted through endless corridors of the Militech compound, mostly undetected - all cameras
had no chance against either of them, but with both V and Lucy they lit up like holiday decorations
on Christmas.

According to her maps, they were just one hallway away from the exit when they bumped into a
procession of Militech bots who were obviously escorting someone important.

“YOU!” A woman with slicked-back short hairdo pointed at V before quickly reaching out for her
sidearm and opening fire at the merc. If that wasn’t a clear sign that the two had history - what else
could be?!

“Lucy,” V addressed the netrunner as they ducked away from gunfire, “Get Vesper out of here.
Mitch and Panam will cover you.”

“And what about you?!” She couldn’t believe her own words of concern for the guy that landed
her in this whole mess.

“I’ll be right after ya. Just go.” V urged them on with a naively too positive smile.

“Fine,” the netrunner nodded before turning to the scientist. “Run to the exit on my mark, Vesper.”

V pulled out a space rifle that he must’ve lifted from one of the guards and fired back at the
contingent of Militech soldiers and bots helmed by Meredith Stout. Lucy used the opening to drag
Vesper by her collar and into the final corridor.

The last thing that both women saw when they glanced back was V launching himself at a bot with
his Wolverine claws unsheathed.

——

Panam was absolutely bloody bored for the good part of three hours that V and Lucy were gone.
Either way, the plan implied that the whole lot of them would emerge from the nearby sewer
tunnel and thus avoid any Militech ire.

Suddenly, the netrunner zoomed through the main entrance, dragging Vesper Lynd behind her.
That was a relief, but why were they using the front door like they owned the place?!

When Panam saw a contingent of guards rushing after the two women, only then did she realize
that the plan went to shit and her skills would, finally, be needed.

She zeroed one, two, three of them in quick succession. Militech goons were like sitting ducks for
the skilled sharpshooter. It took seven of them to fall before the drones had finally realised that
they would be better off taking cover rather than blindly rushing after their target. This played right
into the group’s plan - if Militech held back, they had every chance to delta the fuck out.

The only snag was the fact that V wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

That, also, proved to be temporary as the madcap merc shot himself out of the second storey
window without much regard of where, or whom, he could possibly land on. As it happened, a
Militech soldier lent himself as a landing pad, cushioning the fall.

Mitch, the prodigy wheelman that he was, was already waiting for the passengers, the car's front
pointing strictly away from the blasted corpo base. V’s butt barely touched the seat when Mitch
punched the gas and the group sped off towards the vantage point occupied by the Aldecaldo
chieftess who took it as her que to hustle.

‘Jump in!” The nomad mechanic commanded as he pulled the space golf cart next to Panam’s
designated meeting point. “We ain’t got all day!”

As the group rode into the main moon city’s limits, they could let themselves relax. They were out
of the woods, the heist was a success!

Surprisingly, V didn’t seem to share the sentiment, and his concerns were about to be confirmed.

A much bigger, caterpillar-tracked vehicle appeared from one of the side streets, giving chase to
the group. It was clearly far superior in engine power to their little toy car and was quickly gaining
on them. Inside, one could see the grimace of Stout - there was a deep gash on her left cheek, no
doubt left there by V.

“Can this thing go any faster?!” Panam yelled to the driver as she tried to balance her Overwatch
2.0 rifle to line up a shot. She managed to hit the mini-tank, but the bullet got deflected by the
armor.

“I’m already squeezing the last out of this piece of crap!” Mitch yelled back, glancing at the
pursuing vehicle through the mirror. “So you better come up with alternative ideas!”

“Remember your little trick from the Badlands?” Panam turned to Lucy with a face that seemed to
say ‘I’ve got a plan’.

“Mhm,” the netrunner nodded, catching the nomad’s drift.

She turned in her seat to get a better view of the fast approaching enemy and engaged the hack
overlay. Unsurprisingly, the Militech tank was harder to get into than Raffen cars, but still not
impossible. A few moments later and the gap suddenly started to widen again, as the pursuing
vehicle began to slow down and fall back.

Panam gave the younger woman a grateful pat on the shoulder, revelling in Stout’s furious
expression as she yelled at the driver who couldn’t even figure out what was happening. A few
moments later and the corpos disappeared from view completely as Mitch veered into a side alley
to lose their tail once and for all.

“Phew, now we are truly done with them,” Panam exhaled with relief.

“Let’s delta outta here ASAP,” V said.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” the nomad mechanic nodded as he made another turn that would set
them on the original course towards the moon rover hangar where Oda was already waiting.

——

Vesper had a lot of objections to being stuffed into a space suit which was a special kind of
personal hell for the claustrophobic woman. Few things were worse than a human-shaped tube that
was the only thing that separated one from the vacuum of space, aka certain death.

“I am NOT getting into this and out there! ” The scientist yelled as the others were busying
themselves with their own suits.

“If you don’t want to do this the easy way,” V warned her, “we can always do it the hard way.”

“And what in the shit is the ‘hard way’?!” Vesper made the mistake of asking.

“This.” The merc’s eyes flashed blue for a moment, sending a very mild hack into the woman’s
system and knocking her out cold.

“Help me with her, please,” he addressed Panam while supporting the unconscious scientist with
both hands to keep her from falling to the floor.

With everyone - Vesper, who they strapped to the back like some sort of ballast, included - ready
to go, Mitch stirred his upgraded vehicle out of the garage and into the airlock.

“Don’t think I could ever get used to it,” the mechanic spoke over comms.

“Been here for months, can confirm - you never do.” Lucy replied.

They set course towards Arasaka’s base, which would take twenty-ish minutes to reach.

“We have company.” They were about five minutes into their trip when Oda pointed somewhere in
the direction of slowly vanishing Moon Base Alpha.

Of course, they wouldn’t get away so easily.

“For fuck’s sake!’ V swore as he recognised their pursuers. “It’s those bloody ninja bots again!”

It was hard to tell if these were the same ones, including one that was responsible for the merc
having one less organic appendage, but either way they were bad news.

“Punch it, Mitch!”

Killer bots were moving exceptionally fast, assisted by lower gravity and being able to bound over
rough terrain with their elongated mechanical limbs. Luckily, the group had not one, but two
netrunners with them.

“They got an upgrade since I last fought them. Can’t get through their ICE,” V admitted, clearly
addressing Lucy, “but I can distract them while you do it.”

“On it,” the young netrunner nodded and got to work. She saw the older merc’s avatar within the
same micro-Nets of the bots as she peeled layer after layer of their advanced encryption. He drew a
lot of proverbial fire from other anti-intrusion systems, allowing for her to proceed in relative
peace.

One after the other, the bots tumbled and fell as the purple-haired solo dismantled their operating
systems or overloaded their mainframes with power surges.

Nonetheless, there were many of them and only one of her, so it took time to get through each one.

The moon rover raced past a group of tourists, who immediately started pointing and waving at
them. Silly people probably took their chase as an entertainment staged for their benefit.

“I think I’ve just run over a moon landing flag!” Mitch yelled out loudly.

“They can put it back up! Same can’t be said about us if these things catch up!” Panam yelled back
even louder.

“We are almost within the base’s outer perimeter!” Oda yelled. Nobody knew what that meant
exactly, but they were about to find out.

As soon as they crossed an invisible line, the last remaining bots suddenly got blown to
smithereens. Some of the debri flew up so high that it broke off from the Moon's gravity field and
started to float into space.

“Fuck yeah!” Panam fist pumped, celebrating infernal machines' demise.

“What was that?” Lucy turned to the Arasaka samurai.

“Automated defences,” he explained simply.

“AAAAAAAA!” A deafening scream assaulted their ears simultaneously. Vesper woke up sooner
than expected.

——

“Can’t believe you system-reset me and stuffed me into that death trap!” The scientist had been
chewing V out for the better part of the past ten minutes. “And you didn’t say you worked for
Arasaka!”

“I’m not,” V replied. “Hanako is… a friend.”

“Gimme a break!” Vesper huffed. “Hanako Arasaka, friends?! With you?!”

“You’ll see,” the merc said cryptically. “We’ll meet her in time.”

“My lab!!” Lynd suddenly realised, pulling at her hair with both hands. “What happened to my
lab?!”

“Relocated and secured even before we departed,” Panam responded. “Alt handled managing your
team in your absence.”

“She also said you should lay off sushi for a while.”

“Ah for fucks sake!” Despite the good news, Vesper didn’t seem all too pleased.

“Well, at least one of us knows what on earth that meant,” V chuckled.

“Alt?” Lucy asked blankly.

Ever since they arrived, she had been having a quiet mental breakdown driven by the fact that she
was currently inside an Arasaka facility, fully in the power of the corp that she risked her life to
escape from and which had plenty of bones to pick with her for what she’d done to its numerous
netrunners.
 “Why do I know that name?”

“No clue.” V shook his head. “But you’ll get to ask her yourself when we get back to Night City.”

Chapter End Notes

I think I’ll put the pin into Nightcall for a bit, as I am having doubts about how I want
to end it. Will go back to the drawing board, but will be working on the Lucy x David
story in the meantime.

Thanks for sticking around and your patience while I work this out.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!