Fuck me… I feel nauseous…

  “Aww, want me to rub your tummy?” Johnny mocked me, “C’mon, big day ahead of us, ain’t got no time for this shit.”

  “Yeah, it’s always a big day, isn’t it…” I rolled my eyes as I dialed Panam’s number. “I just hope she’s willing to help.”

  “Hey, can’t be much worse than Evelyn.”

  “Oh you shut right the fuck–”

  “Hello? Who’s this?” she answered, a gruff yet cute voice.

  “Panam? Rogue gave me your number. The name’s V. I believe we can help each other?”

  “Oh yeah? How’s that, V? Cause I can’t wait to get fucked by someone else in the span of 48 hours.” I know that feeling…

  “I need supplies for a job, it’s urgent. In exchange, I’ll help you get your car and the goods you lost.”

  “Loading docks, container freight station outside Rancho Coronado. Know the place?”

  “Sure, just off the highway.”

  “Yep. Meet me there.” And she hung up… Hmph.

  “See, Johnny?” I gave him a sarcastic smile, “Off to a good start, as few words as possible. Does that please thy holiness?”

  “T-heh, you said ‘hole.’” Great… Guess it’s another blue-pill day today…

  Huh. Judy messaged me… “?Hola! Just checkin in. Any luck with the Voodoo Boys yet?”

  “No, no luck,” I replied, “But I got a solid lead.”

  “That’s good – Take care of yourself, ok? – Don’t want you to end up like Ev”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t come to that. I know my limits. – How’s she doing, anyway? Any changes?”

  “No – Same thing as before” Shit… “She’s trapped deep somewhere in her brain – Wish there was more I could do”

  “Like I said, just stick by her no matter what. You’ve already done more than enough otherwise, it’s up to her now. – I gotta go, but keep me posted, okay?”

  “Ok will do – Good luck, V”

  “Thanks, you too.” It’s quite sweet of Judy to check up on me. I’d have totally forgiven her otherwise, considering the circumstances she found herself in.

  “Aww, someone’s got a crush.”

  “Shut it, Johnny,” I sneered at the sinister and utterly irritating hallucination. I think he just gets his rocks off by irritating the living hell out of me. He’s like a high school bully or something, meanwhile he’s supposedly in his 30s. Or 80s, I guess, depending on perspective. Whatever, he’s a fucking asshole in either case.

  It’s been a while since my last desert excursion… Even longer still since my last stint with nomads. Though admittedly the last time I worked with them was as a double-agent, so I certainly couldn’t fault them for trying to eliminate me, but I at least came away with a fairly distinct sense of what sort of people they are. What values they hold. And how to use that to my advantage, if need be. That said, I have no plans of double-crossing Panam. If she’s as trustworthy as Rogue says, then she’s liable to help me, without a doubt.

  I have a feeling, though, that getting her supplies back won’t be a walk in the park, let alone her truck. If there’s one thing nomads are attached to, it’s their vehicles, and for good reason. A good car is the difference between life and death in the wastes. Some clans have even made entire religions based around cars, and I can’t say I blame them one bit. The one I ran with, the Bakkers, was more down-to-Earth than that, granted. Flawed, certainly, especially after the leader’s death. Rest in peace, Selita Bakker. You’re probably rolling in your grave, knowing your clan’s fate.

  I found my old desert combat fatigues – admittedly they don’t exactly fit as well as they used to, but beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. I remember people always harping on me for needing to adjust the backpack straps to their absolute longest to fit around my chest. Plenty of good times in the desert, but I didn’t count that among them.

  I still think that, of all the times I spent in the desert, it was that early timeframe where it was just Jackie and I wandering through the place, chatting our hearts out, that really did it for me. We actually got so thirsty that we could barely speak anymore, yet we kept finding ways to make each other laugh… I miss him.

  She said it was at the loading dock… Hmph. Which one, though? Area’s not exactly short of them. Rancho Coronado was supposed to be a cozy little industrial town. Quaint suburbs, a school, train station, that sort of thing. But the railroad never materialized, so there was no way to ship the goods abroad to the NUSA, leaving it serving Night City alone for the most part.

  It’s still a pretty nice place, though I’d probably not be welcome here considering the 6th Street body count I racked up during the War. Maybe a little hamlet on the periphery might suit me. Come to think of it, I probably should get another place. If not a house, then at least another apartment – could keep the tracker at Megabuilding H10 and live elsewhere, just to keep the powers-that-be guessing. Somewhere on the lower end, perhaps Santo Domingo or maybe the Glen. I would go Japantown, but that may be a bit too on-the-nose. Or maybe right dead-center in Downtown. The audacity of living on the enemy’s doorstep without them even knowing, provided they don’t leave the house, of course. Nah, that’s probably not the smartest idea in the world, though the thought does make me giggle slightly.

  Hm. Panam, I presume? The car doesn’t match the woman, but I suppose with her truck stolen, beggars can’t be choosers. Hopefully she has the firepower to back up her reputation.

  “Panam?” I asked as I approached.

  “So you’re V,” she replied without looking away from the engine bay, “Where’s my car?”

  “Sorry, I’m not that easy,” I shook my head, causing her to finally pop out from beneath the hood, “Help me and I’ll help you.”

  “T–uh, oh fuck no,” she quickly lashed back at me, “You will NOT jerk me around, tell me where my car is!”

  “Like I said, help me out–”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she quickly interrupted, fiddling with the car’s ECU by the look of it.

  “Take it you’re quite attached to it?”

  “Cars don’t jerk me around. People do.” Honestly… she has a point.

  “Heh, alright,” I partially conceded, “I know where to find both the cargo and the car. But you go alone, you won’t get ‘em back, more than likely. Not to mention that you’re likely not gonna leave their clutches alive, so let’s figure something– Wait, hang on, you’re pulling on a hydraulic line!”

  “I know, I know… Don’t worry, nngh,” she squirmed as she worked her arms around the front of the engine block, “I’ve done this before…”

  “So?” I hurried her.

  “...Whaddyou want,” she finally said, sounding defeated and annoyed.

  “I need weapons, equipment, and likely a second hand to hit a Kang Tao convoy and collect a VIP.”

  “Are you outta your goddamn mind?” That depends on how many times the little voice in my head wakes me up in the middle of the night to ask me for a cigarette.

  “It’ll be an AV hit over Jackson Plains, taking a route past the power plant and then down by the regional airport. If that’ll help.”

  “Y-yeah, I doubt it.”

  “And in return for the weapons, you’ll get your cargo and your car. Do we have a de– Wait, that’s the alarm–” Annnnd there goes the car alarm.

  “Shit!” she shouted before ripping out the whole goddamn thing, horn and all, and tossing it on the ground and slamming the hood down in frustration. I guess that’s one way to bypass the system. “Alright. Fine. But we get my Thorton first. So where is it?”

  “Up in Rocky Ridge… take it you’re quite attached to it, huh?”

  “Let me put it this way, with that truck, I can move anything to anywhere in town. Without it, only thing I can move is a pizza. Maybe.” Not one to gloat, this one. “You said Rocky Ridge, yeah?”

  “That’s right. The merch is there, too.”

  “Fff… Nash, you dirt-eating bastard…”

  “Friend of yours?” I smirked.

  “Do not call him that!”

  “Heh, fine. Partner?”

  “Former. If ever,” she sneered angrily, “The Shiv tricked me. Straight nipped my truck and the merch… Probably aims to sell it all off in Rocky Ridge…”

  “Raffen Shiv?” I asked her, raising an eyebrow, “Didn’t realize they dealt with outsiders.”

  “Depends on what you’re sellin’,” she elaborated, “Boy, are his buyers gonna be fuckin’ disappointed…”

  “Alright, I’ll get my equipment,” I nodded, “We’ll take this car.”

  “Eh-h-hang on,” she stopped me, “I should think this through.”

  “Sure, mind if I get my shit?”

  “If you want. I’m not goin’ anywhere fast.”

  I loaded up her car with my backpack and weapons, topping everything off in less than two minutes. Wasn’t particularly interested in wasting any time, nor did I bring all that much with me in the first place. If I had enough, then I probably wouldn’t need her. “Fuck… yes, we’ll need backup,” she muttered to me as I shut the trunk and came back around to the hood. “Got a quick stop to make along the way.”

  “Mind telling me where, exactly?”

  “Yeah, gimme a sec, gotta call the client,” she stopped me, pulling out her phone, “Don’t wanna leave the bastard hanging.”

  “Going through with the deal behind Rogue’s back,” Johnny said as he appeared next to the car, “Brave, I guess…? Or fucking dumber than a drum.”

  “Boz, ‘ey,” Panam said, pacing around anxiously, “Nash is gonna pass you the merch in Rocky Ridge. Thing is, the motherfucker screwed me over.” Hm. She gonna try and double-cross the double-crosser? Frankly I’d rather just carve up the bastard but whatever works. “Boz, I will take care of it. I just need you to give me a chance.” Her eyes were closed. Doesn’t sound good. “Boz, come on. How many times have I moved things for you? And how many times have I failed?… You have my word… After dark? Okay… No, don’t call off the meet, just show up, I’ll take care of everything.” I let out a yawn that Johnny reciprocated in-kind. Fucking hell… Why can’t anything be straightforward… “Do you even have to ask? Course I will… Thanks, Boz. You won’t regret this.” Panam finally hung up the phone.

  “So?”

  “Okay, I’ve bought us some time.”

  “I recognize that name. 6th Street underboss, no? They your employers?” That’d be a dealbreaker for me.

  “That not allowed?”

  “Not necessarily, but let’s say that I’m not exactly on good terms with them, that’s all.”

  “Alright, well to answer your question, nah. They pay well for goods I deliver. That simple.”

  “And where to now?”

  “The Aldecaldo camp,” she motioned down the highway, “Need to see some of the old clan.” Her voice was suddenly punctuated with a heavy sigh.

  “Don’t sound too excited.”

  “That’s not your concern,” she quickly shot me down, “I still have friends there.”

  “And they’re helping with Rocky Ridge?”

  “That is the plan.” I’d rather not – too many cooks in the same kitchen. I make a hobby out of killing scavs. Cornering them in a small town would be good therapy.

  “Alright, let’s go, then,” I nodded to the car.

  “Get in,” she said insistently, and I quickly followed suit, not wanting to waste any more time.

  “Hm, you know, I used to ride back in the day,” I mentioned to make conversation. Be quite a long ride, I imagine.

  “Truly?” her interest was suddenly piqued, “I never would’ve guessed.”

  “Hah, I know, I don’t exactly look like a nomad,” I laughed at myself, “But I rode with the Bakker Family. Two years. Back before they joined up Snake Nation. We, uh, had some disagreements. Hadn’t rode with another family since.”

  “Hm, so we have something in common after all, how ‘bout that.”

  “Hey, gotta start somewhere,” I shrugged, tucking Shinden into a better position for me.

  “Alright, I gotta ask, what’s the deal with that?” Panam eyeballed my sword.

  “Family heirloom – or, from my birth family, anyway.”

  “Oh? I never heard of anyone passing down a family sword around here.”

  “Yeah, I’m not from here, as you might’ve guessed, heh,” I told her with a smile, “I’m from the Kanto region in Japan.”

  “Ah, makes more sense, then,” she nodded, “Well for what it’s worth, it’s a gorgeous sword.”

  “Appreciate it,” I smiled in return, “Where’s this camp, anyway?”

  “Just past the city line, we’ll jump on the Nine and head east.”

  “Alright, now my turn,” I shuffled around to face her some more, “How’d you end up in this mess?”

  “I like the color. The air freshener and booster seat came extra,” she said sarcastically.

  “You know I didn’t mean the car.”

  “What am I supposed to say, huh? That I’m not about to let my former partner rob me and get away with it? That my fixer made me look like a goddamn fool?” She paused and breathed some of the fire out, “What about you, huh? Why d’you need that clown from the AV?”

  “Clown’s got intel I need, and I’m running out of time to get it, it’s that simple,” I told her bluntly.

  “...” she pondered, still in her own head, “So why didn’t she tell me about Nash?”

  “Rogue? The only person who knows Rogue’s agenda is Rogue.”

  “Goddamn, I can’t stand the bitch,” she rested her head on a balled fist, her arm sat on the window sill.

  “So then why do you stand her?”

  “Cause I need the money, ugh…”

  “Don’t let her push you around, then. She’s not the only fixer in town.”

  “Yet you’re only here because she sent you.”

  “Yeah, after collecting intel from two other fixers,” I noted, “Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

  “You don’t know her. Not at all,” Panam quickly interrupted, “Did she tell you she was the one who set up me and Nash together? Did she tell you it slipped her mind to mention that Nash is Raffen Shiv?!”

  “What the Hell is he doing up here, anyway,” I thought out-loud, “Thought they mostly stuck to Sixty-Four.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she shrugged, “I see you know things.”

  “Fought in the war,” I told her plainly, “Got to know the groups pretty intimately.”

  “Hm, good, we can use those skills, then. You should get along with the clan pretty famously, too. Most of ‘em are vets, themselves.”

  “That’s good – always nice to have a friendly community,” I let a genuine smile slip through the cracks.

  “For sure. Prolly why I prefer it out here and not in the city. Dealin’ with Rogue and her shit. No agendas out here.”

  “Speaking of which, well, dumb question but maybe Rogue didn’t know about Nash’s allegiances?”

  Panam looked back at me with a crooked smile. “Don’t make me laugh. A fixer of her standing knows. And Rogue probably knows we’re talking about her right now! Nash and I had a role to play in her little game, that’s it. Rogue’s a frigid old bitch, that’s the truth.” Wow, she has some beef.

  We pulled off the highway heading north, out into the rockiest part of the immediate area. Certainly have good command over the region from up here – plenty of cover, three escape routes, it’s a smart base camp. Looks cozy, too. They got about five or six Kaukaz trucks with all the amenities of home, just wrapped up in portable containers. It’s actually quite a bit larger than the Bakkers when I left.

  “Hey, is that Panam comin’ to see us, or is it just another mirage?” one of the ‘Caldos teased her as a pair of them came to greet us.

  “Heh, fuck you, Mitch,” Panam smiled, coming in to give him a hug, “It’s good to see you.” She gave the other a pleasant fistbump – her brothers, I assume. Look like good people.

  “Mmhmm,” Mitch spoke to me, “And who’s this?”

  “My babysitter,” Panam gestured back to me sarcastically. “V, this is Scorpion, Mitch. Two old friends.”

  “I mean, you might not’ve needed a babysitter if you lost the merch and the car, so–”

  “Shut it, V!” she shouted as I and the two others laughed at her expense.

  “Hah! Are you kidding?! That beauty Thorton of yours finally bite it?” Scorpion had a massive grin on his face hidden beneath his hood.

  “She rode it to death in ol’ Night City,” Mitch continued on.

  “Nah, got stolen,” I corrected them both.

  “Shit, who dared?” asked Scorpion.

  Panam stood her ground. Seems like I better get used to that. “Doesn’t matter – not anymore. I’ll get ‘er back. That’s why I’m here. The Raffens screwed me over. I’ll get them back, but I need your help.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The look on her friends’ faces doesn’t inspire much confidence. Kind of a shame, we could use the extra help. These guys seem like they know what they’re doing.

  “Come with me! We’ll thrash ‘em, the four of us!” Panam tried to rile them up a little, but to no avail.

  “You know we would do anything for you, sister…” Mitch sighed.

  “But now – now’s hard,” Scorpion finished his sentence, crossing his arms as Mitch lit up a smoke.

  “Seriously?! You won’t help?” Panam replied in disbelief.

  “Ah, the old man told us to sit tight and get those generators back up after the batteries went kaput,” Mitch’s excuse rang hollow on the pair of us. Though I totally understood and didn’t blame them at all. It’s not their business, not their fight. They’re well within their rights to refuse.

  “Generators? You won’t help because of some goddamn generators?! Is this a joke?” Panam’s feisty, I’ll give her that.

  “We’ll be fine without them–” I started before Panam interrupted me.

  “Shut it.” She rubbed her forehead out of frustration. “Don’t be a dick, Mitch. Help me.”

  “Not this time, we’re needed here,” he reiterated. I can see why the family ousted her. She simply will not take no for an answer, even if it means going against the wishes of the clan. That’s a dangerous line to walk.

  “Fuck, I don’t believe this!” she crossed her arms and got in Mitch’s face. She turned and looked back at me with a defeated expression painted all over her. “So you couldn’t care less about me?! It’s all about Saul and–”

  “Panam,” I interrupted her diatribe.

  “This isn’t about Saul, it’s about the clan. You know that,” Scorpion corrected her.

  “Listen, we can’t leave camp, no chance,” Mitch elaborated, “But Saul never said a word about gear.”

  “Okay…” Panam sighed, “Well… I’ll need that rifle of yours. And some of my own stuff.”

  “Take whatever you want,” he smiled at her.

  “And take care of yourself out there,” Scorpion continued.

  “Yeah… Thanks, guys. I’ll grab the gear, then be outta your hair.”

  This camp is fantastic by my standards. Last time, it was just some jury-rigged collection of old derelict cars. I used to sleep in the back of some van, admittedly with a really comfy mattress. Life as a nomad sucks when all you have is your 18-year-old wits about you and the tremendous pressure of doing your job properly. I feel like, in another world, I’d have really liked it here. I’ve always deeply enjoyed the smell of fresh air, the cold stillness of a desert night, and being able to just look up at the stars… I wish I could’ve done it more. Maybe in the next life, I guess. “Looks like it’s just the two of us,” I smiled as I came up behind Panam, who was leading me through the camp.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “A little. Yes.” I guess that’s fair. She was banking on people she trusted, and instead she gets a sketchy, eccentric Japanese girl with a questionable history. I’d be skeptical, too.

  People remarked on me as I passed like I was some sort of exotic animal… I forgot what this felt like. When I was first inserted into the Bakkers clan, Arasaka basically just dumped me at a gas station that happened to be on their convoy’s route. I stayed there for three days before a patrol found me, half-dead from thirst. And everybody at the camp looked at these two guys hauling my skinny ass up there like they were insane. It took them a good, solid month to stop ostracizing me from meals. They used to feed me like a caged pet or something, just keeping me in the tent and occasionally gawking as they went by… I hated them for that. By comparison, this place is positively welcoming with open arms. Maybe because of its proximity to the city.

  “This your tent?” I asked her as we headed into a cozy little one-person job.

  “Eeeyup, home sweet home,” she smiled before picking up a massive rifle, “Know how to use one of these?”

  “SPT32 Grad?” I raised an eyebrow, “Beautiful weapon. That’s a limited-series production, how the hell’d you get your hands on one?”

  “It’s Mitch’s, actually,” she smiled, showing me around, “Was issued it during the War, decided it might be best to hold on to it for safe-keeping.”

  “Heh, smart of him,” I grinned, “I never had the balls to shoot one, myself. Shoulders probably couldn’t take it. Built for speed, not strength.”

  “Yeah, that’s fair,” Panam nodded, “That why you carry that sword around?”

  “Mhm, we all got our strengths and weaknesses, like I said.”

  “Seems that way,” she pointed to a box on the ground, “But, never too late to try som’n new. Mind carrying that for me?”

  “Alright–Mmmf! What’s in this case, anyway?!” I struggled to lift it, must’ve been around 40-50 kilos.

  “A few odds and ends that should be useful,” she smiled at me. What the fuck, are we gonna be reloading with our own lead or something? Carrying this stuff back through the camp, seems that more people miss Panam than not. I’m guessing her particular grudge has to do with the higher-ups. Quite typical of nomad clans, really. It’s how the Bakkers disintegrated over a few short years. Hopefully the Aldecaldos can get their shit together. “Put it in the trunk,” she ordered.

  “That everything we need?” I asked her as I lifted the beast of burden up and over the bumper. “Got the rifle?”

  “Yep, right here,” she gently placed it down on top of the case. Alright, then we’re off. Finally. Or, well, off to go help her on her little business before finally taking care of mine. Christ. Part of me wouldn’t be surprised if she just straight-up ditches after all is said and done, because that’s about how the universe’s treated me and those I care about lately. All the better for Johnny, though.

  “Seems like you got a real problem with authority,” I noted.

  “What?”

  “Saul, your leader. Got a grudge?”

  “Their leader,” she corrected me.

  “Seemed to be in a hurry to avoid him at all costs.”

  “Let’s just say Saul wouldn’tve been happy to see me.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Hmmph”, she sighed, “The reason we came to California is because he promised change to the Aldecaldos. Said it would turn over a new leaf. But you saw it. We got a handful of tents and heaps of sand. Some leaf that turned out to be.” She shook her head out of frustration, gripping the wheel tightly. “I wanted something different. Better. Saul’s a damned coward, he’ll be the death of the clan. I’m certain.”

  “I’m sorry,” I frowned, “Scorpion and Mitch seemed fond of you, at least. They’re veterans, too?”

  “Yeah, those two were panzerboys, on contract back in the War,” she nodded, “Still sportin’ the combat implants, too. And a stack of really fucked up nightmares.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I sighed.

  “What about you? What’d you do?”

  “I was recon, mostly. Worked outside city-limits as a tracker. Sometimes did infiltration work, too.”

  “Mm, sounds like tough work.”

  “Honestly?” I shrugged, “It was 95 percent abject boredom, and about 5 percent pure, unbridled terror. Not much in between. What kills you is when you don’t know when the terror’s coming, so you keep on the ball for days at a time. Wears you real thin, real fast.”

  “Yeah, then you try and catch a break and suddenly all hell breaks loose, right?”

  “Pretty much,” I laughed half-heartedly, “But the peace and quiet’s nice.”

  “Mm, I drove down I-80 the other day. Ghost town after ghost town… Then you pull over in the middle of the night, and you hear it…”

  “What’s that?”

  “The wind whistling through boarded-up windows… Tumbleweeds scratching across dry, sandy tracks…” Such a serene picture… “That’s how towns die. Not with a bang, but a whimper.”

  “Doubt that this town was any different.”

  “Rocky Ridge? Yeah, was waiting on an interstate extension that never came… And people either went to the city, or became more nomads. That’s the end of that.”

  –

  “Alright, let’s put those recon skills of yours to work,” Panam said as she parked up, “How would you set up an ambush here?”

  “What’s our timeframe?”

  “Gonna come at sundown, so about 6 hours.”

  “Okay, then we got 6 hours to get ourselves something to eat and wait it out, then we just kill ‘em all and take the car and goods back, problem solved.”

  “Hah! And here I thought you were gonna overcomplicate shit like the rest of ‘em,” she laughed at me, “Guys back at the camp are some of my best friends. But there’s just somethin’ about the way you army-types talk, no offense.”

  “None taken,” I smiled, “I’m guessing they fought for Militech?”

  “Yes indeed,” she nodded, having a look around the place. Looks like there’s a massive two-story arcade – okay, that’s pretty slick. “And you?”

  “Take a wild guess,” I replied snarkily as I went straight to the garage. Man, it’s a nice place… I can see why Yamada set up here back in the day. Lucky bastards. “It’s funny to admit that like 6 or 7 years ago, probably would’ve tried to kill each other, huh?”

  “Yeah, our world operates a little differently out here,” she shouted from inside, “Times have changed. We don’t, really. We’re all just people, strugglin’ to find our own roads. Don’t matter where yours came from, just where it leads ya, is our philosophy.”

  “Hm… That’s… actually really sweet,” I smiled to myself, “Alright, I’m gonna get changed in the shop. Brought my old fatigues, figured we might need ‘em.”

  “Yeah, smart call,” she replied with a wave of her hand, “Here, lemme bring you your shit. Already over here, anyway.”

  I got changed in only a couple minutes, receiving a few minor passing glances from Panam. “Like the uniform?” I smiled at her.

  “I do, actually – Arasaka’s best, I take it?”

  “Yeah, thermal camouflage so sensors on the panzers can’t pick it up too easily. I have a few different colors. I’m just wearing it because it’s bulletproof and sand-colored.”

  “Hah, can use it to sneak up on old Scorp in the night, finally scare him for a change,” she chuckled, “I swear, those boys were hard-wired to their machines even after leaving them.”

  “I know that feeling,” I nodded, “We had something similar back home. Motorcycle gangs, bosozoku. Think of them like nomads, except with mostly just overloaded bikes. Used to be a saying, that you knew a rider had passed when they fell off their bike.”

  “Sounds colorful,” she said while looking around, “Hm. Your stealth suit gives me an idea. Could get the power restored in here. Give us some cover and provide a distraction. Can sneak up on ‘em before they even get a chance to react.”

  “I like it,” I replied earnestly, “Power junction’s over there, let’s see if it works.”

  The substation definitely needed some work, that’s for sure. Doesn’t look like any of the wiring’s seen power for over a decade, judging by the layer of dust on the unit. Wiring’s cracked, probably shorted out on something or other… But maybe we can get at least something going with a generator, or, uh…

  “Right, so this substation controls everything in the intersection, right?” Panam asked me rhetorically, “Get the juices flowing, then flip the breakers up top and everything’ll light up like Christmas.”

  “Perfect distraction for the both of us.”

  “Fuck yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically, “Can give it a boost from the car battery. That should do the trick.” Nice to work with people who know what they’re doing. Between Panam and Judy, if they were in place of Dex and T-Bug respectively, well, heist would’ve gone off without a single hitch, no question about it. She pulled the car around and we jumped the substation with it, just as she said, setting the battery on fire almost instantly. “And there she goes, but the ol’ jalopy served us well.”

  I climbed up to the top of the substation for a bit of a nap beneath the sun. It’s been forever since I smelled this air. Didn’t want to ruin it by spending all my time indoors. “Wake me up when the sun goes down, okay? Then it’s my shift.”

  “Sure thing,” Panam said to me as she walked down inside the substation itself.

  –

  “Panam, they’re here,” I whispered over the phone.

  “What?! Shit,” she shot up and collected her weapon, scrambling into position. It’s game-time. “And my Thorton, you see her?”

  “Hard to miss,” I noted the massive pickup truck front-and-center as it approached, “You in position?”

  “Primed and ready… Wait ‘til they get out of the trucks, then fire it up…”

  “With pleasure,” I grinned… Steady… Steady… “And God said… let there be light…”

  –

  V dove headfirst into the pile of Raffen Shiv, eager to stain her shawl red. She drew Shinden and chopped the first poor bastard clean in half without so much as breaking a sweat, tagging two more in the sides of each of their heads before the first body had even slumped to the ground in all of its pieces.

  Panam instantly switched fire to the longest-range target, hitting her dead in the chest and alerting the final two to her presence. Not knowing whether to deal with the maniac swordswoman in their midst or the sniper firing from her perch atop the power station, the remaining three manically fired between each of them with poor coordination and discipline – easy pickings for V.

  The man who held the keys proved somewhat more troublesome, though not when V finally launched herself swordfirst directly into his heart, using the vehicles as cover to close the distance. The leader clutched onto the sword, desperately trying to pull it out. V obliged him by violently twisting and ripping it out herself, severing his aorta and leaving him to bleed out in seconds.

  “That might’ve just been the cherry on top,” Panam shouted from her perch, noting the particularly gruesome sight. Five seconds was all it took – quick, clean, and brutally efficient. No need for Mitch and Scorpion after all. This V character was unquestionably the real deal. As long as she could close the distance, anyway. God help her if she’s caught in the open. “Let’s pack it in.”

  –

  “See? We did alright without Mitch and Scorpion,” I reassured her, handing her the keys, “I can see why you’re so connected with the car. It’s gorgeous.”

  “She completes me,” Panam smiled heartily. It was a magnificent truck, indeed. 35-inch tires, big custom lift kit, looks like quarter-inch titanium plate armor, and I have no doubt it’s putting out twice the power of a standard pickup. Thanks, Jackie – your ass made me know what I’m looking at with this shit. “Listen V, it’s not over yet,” she stopped me before I can get in.

  “It’s not…? We got the car and the cargo, right?”

  “I did not get Nash, who wasn’t in Rocky Ridge. The fucker didn’t show…”

  “Oh no, nonono, that wasn’t the deal,” I held up my hand, “We were to get your truck and the cargo–”

  “I know– Ugh… I know…” she rolled her eyes at me, “Listen, I have a plan.”

  “And I don’t care,” I said as we climbed into the truck, “The car and the merch, that was the deal, nothing more. 6th Street’s waiting on your call and you want to go chasing off a personal vendetta?!–”

  She slammed her hands on the steering wheel, “Just listen to me for fuck’s sake!” Her face grew sullen as she messed with the dials, turning on the truck’s ignition and adjusting her seat. “Man, it’s been too long…”

  “Well…?”

  “I know where their little hidey-hole is.”

  “So?”

  “Look, we can take the unfinished freeway, they will not be expecting us, I’m sure of it.”

  “Again, so what? That wasn’t part of the deal. I cannot be party to some kind of revenge hit.”

  “V, for fuck’s sake, they stole my car!” Honestly… I can kind of relate to that. I busted my ass fixing up my car. If I found out someone stolen Miyoko, I’d probably have that person’s head on my wall as well. And since she knows where they are, I assume she’ll hit them anyway. At least this way we can make it fast and get them before they replenish their numbers. Plus, I always had a soft spot for ripping scavs a new asshole…

  “Fine… So, where’s this hideout?”

  “A hop and skip away.” Mm, this truck does have a lot of power… “I placed my trust in him… he was the first person I worked with after leaving the Aldecaldos… After I came to Night City…” She sure knows how to pick ‘em. “And I granted him my trust.”

  “I understand. Had people betray me like that. Too many times for me to learn my lesson, I guess…”

  “And did you make them pay?”

  “Never got the chance. Someone beat me to it. But they got what they deserved.”

  “But if they hadn’t? Would you have done it?”

  It took me all of a millisecond to think of Jackie and know my answer straight away. “Some people, no. But him, well, let’s just say he’d be taking the shuttle to the Moon alright, but it’ll be in freight class.”

  “Mm, let’s get this overwith.”

  –

  She slammed the throttle of her Thorton, the engine roaring down an old mine tunnel with reckless abandon, echoing through the cavernous halls. If they didn’t know we were coming before, they did now.

  –

  “FUCK YOU, NASH!” Panam shouted as she leapt from her moving truck with V scrambling in pursuit. Despite V’s cries for Panam to stay back and take them out from a distance, Panam blindly rushed up in a frenzy, fueled by vengeance and rage. She slammed the barrel of her rifle into some poor bastard’s face while V deflected incoming sniper fire, unable to move up without exposing her flanks to the enemy.

  “I TRIED givin’ you a chance to get outta here alive, but you just had to rock the boat, didn’t ya?!” Nash taunted Panam from atop the mine control tower, well out of reach of V’s weapon. All Panam was doing was screaming, blasting wildly with her assault rifle with reckless abandon, overcome with pure, animalistic fury as V tried desperately to get her attention. But there will be plenty of time for admonishment, after V and Panam both get their asses out of that cave alive.

  V shouted that she was moving counterclockwise in the vague hope that maybe Panam might’ve heard before sprinting to the right to close the distance between her and some of the snipers on the balconies.

  –

  “JESUS PANAM, ARE YOU INSANE?!” I screamed as I saw her charging straight towards the most concentrated forces, sustaining multiple pistol shots to her gut. Something told me she didn’t have the subdermal armor to withstand any kind of lasting assault like Jackie did. Fuck… Alright, divert.

  Improvise. Kick off right boot, into overhead swing. First dance partner, not an issue.

  Down low. Pendulum, 700RPM tempo. Dance the blade around, twist and flutter. “Fuck is this shit, who the fuck – you bring backup?!” Nash said. Two, now three, are down. Keep up the rhythm.

  Panam simply smashed the fourth in the head, stunning but not disabling. Release grip, grab impaled sword from third partner’s back. Yank out, press forward.

  Step in and down. Arc the foot, raise the right arm and twirl. Leg severed, final partner is no problem.

  “Panam, get the fuck behind me NOW!” I screamed at her as gore rained down from the sky. At last she obliged. Tandem tango across the hall. She has the rear. Competent but impulsive and flighty. Preserve footwork.

  And step…

  –

  Reinforcements emerged from inside the cave, immediately redirecting V’s attention. A single sniper-caliber bullet impacted on her backpack, piercing a hole in it as she dove for the car.

  Still backhanding her weapon, she turned around and back-stepped into the unfortunate soul who just left the driver’s seat before turning her attention to two more thugs. They seemed to appear like bats from this cave, but the ever-increasing plumes of smoke and fire provided her with now-ample cover for dismantling them one-by-one.

  Another car pulled up, and another two individuals leapt out. By now, Panam seemed to have finally gotten the memo and started engaging the snipers on the balcony, leaving the ground soldiers to V.

  With their efforts finally coordinated, the pair made quick work of the remainder of Nash’s men, with V carving her way to the foot of the tower with Panam providing covering fire from the rear. All the soldiers being pinned down made for easy-pickings for the samurai, who climbed up and quickly beheaded each Raffen Shiv one by one before closing in on Nash himself, backed into a corner. He continued taunting the pair of them, calling out Panam for being a lousy driver and an untrustworthy ally, prone to impulsiveness and violence.

  While V certainly didn’t disagree with his assessment, it was ultimately neither her place to judge, nor to care what a Raffen Shiv leader thinks of anyone. One way or another, he dies tonight. His Widowmaker was powerful as anything, causing V to have to hold her sword on both ends to effectively deflect his shots as she cautiously moved up for the kill. Sensing the end was near, Nash panicked and dumped the magazine at her in the hopes of overwhelming V’s defenses – ultimately his last mistake.

  She closed the distance in a flash, cutting directly on the base of his spine first before driving her weapon into his right lung, going all the way through his body for the finishing blow. The severed spine and collapsed lungs ensured a swift, relatively painless death as his body slumped lifelessly to the floor, not even a gasp to be heard as all the air simply came out of the fresh cavities she created.

  –

  Jesus fuck… What an absolute mess. How could this woman have been so dense… she nearly got the both of us killed. And for what?! Sure, she had her little vengeance kick, but fuck me, she literally just ran out into the middle of the goddamn mine? Taking multiple hits?! What the fuck is her problem? It’s like she’s controlled by some weird-ass fucking AI program or something and it’s desperate to get her killed. I’m gonna have a hell of a word with her…

  “Hello, Rogue,” Panam held her phone on speaker.

  “Panam.” Yeah, she sounds pissed. So am I.

  “What did you say again? ‘Solve your own problems, clean up your own shit?’ Well I did. Nash is dead, one shit cleaned. Happy?”

  “And the 6th Street Merch?”

  “Nash can’t deliver it. Buuut, if you ask nicely, I might be able to help ya.”

  “Help me? I took my cut up-front, honey. But I’m touched.” Rogue wasn’t taking any prisoners, causing Panam to just scoff at this whole situation. “Was actually wondering if you’d forgotten about biz while you were out chasing some vendetta.”

  “Fuck!” Panam shouted as she hung up.

  “Feel better now?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Good, because that makes one of us,” I sternly said, “Whatever the Hell that was, it was sloppy. It’s a damn miracle no one scored a headshot, or else guess who’d be talking to Rogue right now, asking for another nomad with 6th Street connections.”

  “Look, we got the job done, yeah? So–”

  “So let’s not repeat this. Ever. Because I’m a mercenary, not a babysitter. Clear?”

  “Pff… Fine…” she moaned.

  “Good, now let’s get this shit to 6th Street so we can move the Hell on with our lives.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  –

  “They’re here,” she muttered as we approached in the fog of a desert night, “Let me do the talking.”

  “Sensing trouble?” I asked her, palming the pistol she handed me on the ride over here.

  “No. At least I don’t think so.” We pulled up and parked in front of the 6th Street Van, slowly getting out of the car. I kept my scarf on and my Arasaka-branded clothing well out of sight, not to mention the pistol I palmed behind the passenger-side door.

  “Panam, how’s Nash? Don’t seem to be answering his phone,” the leader in an Armored Division beret spoke first.

  “Boz,” Panam replied, “Don’t bother callin’ him anymore. He’s out of service, if ya catch my drift.”

  “H-heh,” Boz laughed, “You got balls, girl.” Don’t recognize him. Must be one of the sergeants from the War who got steadily promoted. Hm. “What’s this? A bonus of some sort?” he asked, eyeballing me. Cute.

  “Working together,” I shouted over to him, keeping it blunt and simple. Wasn’t in the mood for more killing today, just a nice steak dinner or something.

  “Hmm. Change chooms like you change clothes, girl,” his head tilted at Panam.

  “There, first-class merch,” she said, handing his henchman the box she was carrying.

  “Mhm,” Boz nodded.

  “So, everything’s in order?” I thumbed the hammer back. Just in case.

  “Check your account. Should be pretty plush in a couple minutes.”

  “It’s been a pleasure,” she smiled at him, “But I believe Rogue’s the one who’s payin’ me?”

  “You’re all right. Think you earned a tip,” he replied insistently, “Let’s go, boys.”

  “That went well,” she nodded to me as I pocketed the weapon, “Come on, let’s get a drink.” Couldn’t agree more, myself.

  We walked up to the Sunset Motel’s bar on the second floor. Bet this place has a lot of these little meets in the parking lot, being basically in the middle of nowhere. Great place to hide. They even got a garage and a gas station that still sells unleaded gasoline somehow. Seems like the perfect place for me if the heat gets turned up.

  “Heya, Noah, how’s it goin’?” Panam smiled at the bartender, “Any news ‘round these parts?”

  “Nah, same ol’ same ol’, but always welcome the stray tumbleweed poppin’ in to say hello, you know that.”

  “Heh, you know how to flatter a lady – Broseph, two of ‘em.”

  “You got it,” he nodded, popping both lids on the counter as I sat down.

  “Out of curiosity,” I asked her, “What was in that package, anyway? For 6th Street.”

  “You didn’t peek? Haloperidol. For the cyberpsychos in our midst.”

  “Ah, I see,” I rested my arm on the counter, “Vets aren’t shy of that, that’s for sure.”

  “Mm, tell me about it,” she swallowed a gulp, “Seems to go hand-in-hand with PTSD, I think.”

  “Well, a toast, then, to new beginnings,” I raised my bottle, “And to getting your wheels back.”

  “Heh, I can drink to that, partner,” her face lit up with a beaming grin. Impulsive ass or not, she was still quite the cutie, it must be said… And she kept drinking… And drinking… And drinking. Holy shit, she just downed a whole 40 in less than 10 seconds?! That takes skill. “Another one over here.” Okaaay, I guess I’m not winning any drinking competitions with her.

  “So, you think you might go back? To the Aldecaldos, I mean. At some point.”

  “I don’t rightly know,” she thought about it, picking at her hangnails, “On the one hand, I don’t really have anyone outside the clan. Shit, I don’t really know any other life.”

  “But?”

  “Without my clan, who am I? Who would I become if I stayed in Night City?” That first part resonated with me. It’s like, I wonder who I’d be, if I wasn’t a samurai. Answer is Arasaka. Then what would I be without them? Answer is a mercenary. What would I be without that? I don’t know… Are we all just defined by our surroundings? “Could make a fresh start, but…”

  “Who knows, not like anyone’s stopping you.”

  “Eh, I guess… cept Rogue.” She took a swig of her beer, letting it sit in her mouth before downing it, “You think I could make a fresh start with her, too?”

  “With her, I think that’s just a question of how many eddies you throw her way.”

  “Heh, true.”

  “Alright, so what’s the plan with Hellman? The convoy leaves in about 10 hours.”

  “Mm, I know,” she nodded, “We’ll get to work around midnight tomorrow. Think it might be best to rent rooms so we stay in the area. Got a plan, a rough draft, at least. But I need time to work it over.”

  “Sounds good. Should catch a bus into town to go pick up my car anyway.”

  “Could do just one room. Save us some money.”

  “Good idea, Noah’s got two twin beds in every room,” she smirked.

  –

  I caught the next bus 20 minutes later, picking up my car and dropping it off. Johnny criticized me the whole way, of course, mainly for being too much of a hipster or something, whatever the fuck that is. Said I should finally splurge and get autodrive, but the problem is that modern autodrive systems don’t work with manual transmissions. So I’m shit out of luck unless someone finds something that’s actually working from like 2020 or whenever.

  It’s a bit irritating, but at least it gives me more of a sense of scale for the city anyway, and it reminds me to never forget anything. Having one’s car broken into is a fairly common occurrence, though Miyoko’s not without a few electrical tricks up its sleeve. I’ve come back to more than a few charred bodies slumped over my door. Heh.

  Oh well. Time to catch a few winks, I guess. How luxurious is this – two beds?! And beneath a roof, at that! Fuck me, this place is like a fucking Konpeki for nomads.

  “Aaahh…” Panam yawned, “Good night, V…”

  “Night, Panam…”