“Hey, how’d it go with Militech? Everything work out?” Jackie asked over the phone.

  “Surprisingly, yeah,” I replied, “We met, we chatted. Made a deal – something may be there, might not.”

  “Ah, you got a nose for shady shit, V, don’t lie,” he reassured me, “I say le’s keep those corpos sidelined.”

  “Yet if we don’t then they might come looking for our little trinket with a vengeance.”

  “Ah, good point…” he reluctantly agreed, “Anyway, waitin’ for ya at All Foods. Oh, and I got som’n to show ya when you get here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Just gonna have to come wait and see,” he teased as he hung up. Hm. Wonder what it was… Well, guess there’s only one way to find out.

  –

  “Ey, you arrived in that old-ass car of yours, huh?” he laughed as I pulled up beside him. Jackie, on the other hand, was sitting on something brand-new. And very shiny. An Arch Nazare – looks custom, too. Beautiful motorcycle, and it suited him well. “So? Whaddyou think, V?”

  “I think you got taste, my man,” I knelt down beside it, admiring the handiwork, “And deeper pockets than I remember. Weren’t you saving up for a bar?”

  “Yeah, but Misty said I gotta learn to live a little, so…”

  “That’s certainly one way of doing it, gotta agree with her,” I shook my head.

  “Hey, got her cheap,” he corrected me, “Dividend from the Dorsett job.”

  “Remember back when we did the Surgeon job, you bought yourself an Outlaw? Ran it straight into a power line?”

  “Oh that’s bullshit,” he scoffed, “Dude cut me off and you know it.”

  “Uh-huh,” I replied condescendingly.

  “...Okay, so I took out a loan. A small one…”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I shook my head, “Could’ve just asked me.”

  “Hey, don’t wanna keep relyin’ on you for money,” he asserted himself.

  “Alright, fair,” I nodded, “I would swap out that tailpipe if I were you, though.”

  “What, really? But it’s got a growl the chicks just love,” he grinned.

  “And all that ‘growl’ does is tell Maelstrom that Jackie’s a mile out,” I tapped on the huge, metallic cans on the back to reinforce my point, “Also would check out the fuel mapping. And slap on some thermal tape so you don’t burn yourself.”

  “Oh yeah? Anything else, your majesty?”

  “Hm… No, looks good to me,” I nodded, “Just some friendly advice.”

  “Hey, considering your ‘friendly advice’ fixed up that old beater of yours for this long, I’mma take it as gospel,” he smiled, “But we’ll see.”

  Of course, I had to take the piss. The bastard may be my family, but I’m contractually-obligated to make fun of his taste, and vice versa. That’s how siblings work, after all.

  “Anyway, the job,” I moved on and explained Militech’s scheme, as well as Dex’s angle and the fact that the big, hulking idiot apparently paid Maelstrom in advance for this thing.

  “He paid up-front?” he recoiled back, “Fuck me… So, we got a plan, or just gonna go in there and back-to-back it like always?”

  “The way I see it, we have three options. We pay with Meredith’s chip, get the Flathead, and walk out and let Militech clean up the mess. We pay with our own money and leave peacefully and Militech will be on the backfoot, so long as we scan the thing for trace programs – T-Bug can do that, though. Or we go in there and see if we can restock the All-Foods plant with some fresh meat.”

  “Hm, well it’s not like the gang world got any more complicated since we last did a Maelstrom job. You can either fuck them or get fucked. Only the strong survive here, chica. Either way, you should suit up.”

  “Got my clothes in the Skyline,” I nodded in agreement, “See you’re packing a machete?”

  “Ey, you noticed!” he exclaimed, “Guess you’re rubbin’ off on me a little, eh?”

  “Okay, that’s… actually incredibly sweet, but I don’t have the time to fully appreciate the gesture,” I smiled, “We have to get our game faces on, bro.”

  “Sure thing, sis. Follow you to the car.”

  –

  “Alright, ready to go?” I asked Jackie, he simply nodded and shut the passenger-side door. “Where’d you get that hat, anyway?”

  “What? Oh, a yard sale,” I shrugged, “Why?”

  “Samurai, heh, suits you well,” he laughed.

  “Yeah, it’s an old band. Anyway, I just thought the logo looked cool.”

  “Hmph, so I guess we just go up, knock on the front door, see if they let us in or what?”

  “I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Dex did pay for this thing, after all.”

  “Hrm,” he grumbled, “Why’d it have to be Maelstrom, huh. These fuckers, of all people.”

  “Look, it’s just a job, like any other,” I tried to reassure him as we crossed the street.

  “Yeah, easy for you to say when you got combat experience up the ass, Cappy. Fuck did I do, huh?”

  “Come on, Jack, that isn’t fair,” I frowned, “You need to give yourself more credit, man.” And he really did. The guy was always so hard on himself… I had no idea why, but I could tell something was bothering him. About this job… maybe. But I guess it’s not my place to judge. Just help him get up when he falls down. We were good at that… helping each other up. And good at falling down, too, sometimes with a helpful coaxing shove. Can’t forget that part.

  “Just fuckin’ fed up with it all, I guess,” he walked heavily towards the door, “Hate these fuckers. Take the Valentinos. At least they got, y’know, some form of honor. Follow Santa Madre and respect each other.”

  “You have honor, too, Jack, don’t stress it.”

  “Yet here I am, blowin’ money on a fuckin’ motorcycle like some gonk.”

  “Jackie, you’re allowed to have nice things, okay? And you’re allowed to want nice things. You know I’d give you a hug if we weren’t on camera, right?”

  “Hm…” he stopped and shook his head, “Thanks, Cappy.”

  “Sure thing, bro.”

  We approached the main gate, an old disused loading entrance built into the basement on the far-right of the building. The place has certainly seen better days, though I’m sure they had plenty of surprises in-store for us when we got inside.

  I noted a little intercom on the right-side of the ramp, fully expecting no response when I hit it. However, I was pleasantly surprised to actually find a voice on the other end – so these people could speak, after all.

  “Hm. Don’t know you,” the voice muttered through the shitty speaker.

  “Here on behalf of Dex. Came to see Royce.”

  “Main room. We been waiting.” With that, the shutter opened up to reveal a host of high-caliber turrets watching over the entrance. Took their security very seriously, it seemed.

  “Hang on,” Jackie stopped me before I headed in, “So what’s the plan, here? Seriously. We can’t expect ‘em to honor Dex’s payment.”

  “What do you wanna do? You have more experience with Maelstrom, Jack.”

  “And you have more experience in general,” he retorted, “I just wanna make sure we both get outta there with our heads still attached, know what I’m sayin’?”

  “So what’re you thinking?”

  “I dunno. These people only operate on one wavelength, though: power. Your honor’s got no place here,” he said ominously, “So we gotta fight fire with fire, I say.”

  “Put on a show-of-force? In their own house, no less?”

  “Hey, they wouldn’t expect it.”

  “Well let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, okay, Jack? I’d like for us to leave with all our body parts attached too, you know.”

  “Alright, le’s do it,” he nodded, “After you.”

  “Hmph, looks like they could use a few plants in here,” Jackie quipped as we walked through the blackened hallways. Graffiti lined every one of the industrial walls, the only sign of life here in no less than two decades, I imagine. “Oh yeah… they’re certainly prepared for visitors. I can say one thing,” he joked, “I’d never seen security like this in a chow factory. Guess that’s what they mean by a ‘closely-guarded family recipe,’ huh?”

  “Hm, Militech, all of it. Looks like the stuff from the jacked convoy,” I noted, “Guess we’re in the right place.”

  “Mm, must’ve been like maggots over dead meat.” The place seemed labyrinthian, a maze of conveyer belts and product lines heading in all directions like veins and arteries flowing to and from a heart.

  Anti-personnel mines placed on the stairs deactivated as we approached. “Hm. Directional shrapnel AP miles. These guys into weapons-manufacturing, too?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Jackie whispered back to me. More spoils of war, I’m sure.

  We entered what looked to be the main promenade, a massive room serving as what appeared to be the hub of the conveyor network. The room was dominated by these massive vats of syn-meat being transported to whatever destination before the whole facility shut down, now just hanging there like desiccated tea bags. Seemed that Maelstrom wasn’t much of a fan of cleaning up, though oddly the whole environment smelled more sterile than I was expecting.

  A ganger shone a powerful floodlight directly into my vision, temporarily blinding me as my eyes struggled to adjust after trudging through dark tunnels for several minutes. “Hmph,” I groaned as I entered, “Relax, Jackie, they’re just trying to spook us.”

  “Just keep your hands where they can see ‘em,” he muttered to himself.

  “You there!” a voice shouted from up top, “Elevator, far end of the room. Move!”

  That’s step one complete, I suppose. Now we just had to meet with Royce.

  The smell hit me as I headed into the room. It was stagnant, putrid, like a bad wound. Though I wasn’t about to be beholden to their cheap parlor tricks. I was here for one thing, and one thing only. If this man got in my way, I wouldn’t hesitate to blow his head clean off. Nor would I if Jackie gave me the go-ahead regardless.

  We headed into the elevator, noting no less than a dozen guards from superior positions. If I backed myself into a corner and circled around clockwise-

  “Nah, Cappy,” Jackie interrupted, “We’re on their turf, le’s just pay and be done.”

  “Alright, alright,” I relented, stepping inside.

  The door opened to reveal a man – or what was left of one – standing before us and waving a large-caliber handgun of some sort. Looked like a lieutenant, but not the big fish. “So whaddya want?” he asked us in a casual tone, his voice fully-synthesized.

  “We’re here for Royce, got business to transact,” I clarified.

  “Mr. Royce is busy right now,” he replied with an annoyed tinge to his voice, “You’ll deal with me.”

  “Very well, then. Heard you have a bot. MT0D12 Flathead. I assume you know what it is.”

  “And? The hell you care?”

  “My client already paid for it, I’m just here to collect. I can talk to Royce directly, if necessary.”

  “Nah, you talk to me,” he said sternly, “Name’s Dum-Dum.” Hmph, appropriate name. Wonder what went through his mother’s brain to name him that. Now couch. Plant it.” I walked over and gently sat down, courteously removing Shinden and placing it on my lap, making no sudden moves. I noted five soldiers surrounding the room, all of whom were equipped with high-tech military weaponry, yet none of them with anything of sufficient caliber that Jackie and I couldn’t handle it together.

  “Ah, well shit, goes for you too,” he nodded to Jackie, who kept his arms crossed and stance upright. They didn’t know it, but that’s exactly where Jackie kept his handguns; clearly he felt that something was off about this whole affair.

  “I’ll stand,” he spoke in a definitive tone.

  “This so fuckin’ hard?! Fuckin’ ass on the fuckin’ couch,” Dum-Dum repeated as Jackie squared up with him.

  “And? You gonna make me?” I had no idea what’d gotten in this man’s head. Just a few minutes ago he was trembling like he was caught in an earthquake, now he was antagonizing these people. As if he couldn’t defend himself from a couch. I taught him better than that.

  “Thought you’d never ask,” Dum-Dum bared his teeth like a dog, his mouth shining bright red like the many optics raked across his forehead. “Sit your ass down ‘fore a put a bullet in your skull.”

  “Jesus, Jack, what’s wrong?” I muttered to him, careful not to further disturb the peace by keeping my sword’s handle away from my hand.

  “First, I don’t like this guy’s tone,” he spoke directly at Dum-Dum, “Second, pretty sure it was you who taught me that sittin’ on your ass makes you an easy target.”

  “Jackie, it’s okay,” I reassured him, placing my hand on his massive right bicep, “Recuerda México.” I knew that would be a soft spot for him. Me laying down on the dirt, him handing me a gun and getting me out of there by the skin of my teeth. The first disadvantaged position we overcame together, though far from the last. 'Espalda con espalda,' he said. Back-to-back. We touched shoulders, pressing into each other and unloading hot lead in all directions. I had never trusted someone with my life so instinctively. And I’d been paying him back ever since, as I did with this gesture. Yet I couldn’t deny his intuition – this Royce guy better be worth it. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if this was all an elaborate trap. Things certainly felt that way.

  “Fine, shit…” he grumbled, “Just hope this don’t end like I think it will.”

  “Well, all right,” Dum-Dum placed his hands behind his back and walked around for a minute, “See, now we can have ourselves a civilized discussion here.” He sat down next to me, revealing an airhypo. Arasaka label. Interesting. “Go on, take a hit.”

  “Hm… What’ve you got?” I asked as Dum-Dum took a big, long hit.

  “Hmmm,” he breathed out, “S-Keef. Pure as baby powder.”

  “Black Lace? Tough to get your hands on, must’ve had a good source.”

  “What’s it do?” Jackie asked me.

  “Ups your endorphins and adrenaline to the point where you don’t feel pain. Side effects are similar to cyberpsychosis, the trip’s so intense. We were issued the shit back in the War.”

  “Cyberpsychos pop the tabs like candy,” Dum-Dum continued, “Gotta vaporize it. Mellows out the burn, goes down real smooth. Want one?”

  “No thanks, I’m good,” I replied, waving him away.

  “Hmph,” he grunted, taking another two hits, “Whatever you say, fuckin’ straight-edged princess.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Another henchman carried a massive box into the room, looked to weigh a solid lump of about 30 or 40 kilos as he slammed it to the table. “Here we go,” Dum-Dum grinned, “MT0D12, the Flathead.”

  “Hm, Militech not looking for it?” I asked, knowing full-well they were.

  “Fuck ‘em,” he extended his arms, “They can hop around and try. We removed the serial number and lifted access locks to their soft. Once it’s yours, it’s yours.”

  “Alright, show it to me,” I demanded.

  “Fine by me,” Dum-Dum nodded, lifting open the case and revealing what appeared to be a squared-off box of parts inside before it suddenly came to life when he slotted in the shard. “Fuckin’ tricked-out, this thing. Dynamic thermo-optic camo armor. Full cognitive emotion with a Raven controller. Pimped-out prototype actuators made of titanium-vanadium-Kevlar composite.” Hm, sounds like my microrotors, actually, just with magnesium instead of vanadium. “Fully-integrated link, too. When the spider starts crawlin’ up walls, danglin’ on ceilings…” he stuttered before keeling over, apparently quite disoriented and nauseated.

  “Careful, don’t look so good,” I said to him as the Flathead returned to its bay. A garage door opened up behind him, revealing a mountain of a man clad in leather parked behind a bunch of computer screens.

  “So whatcha think?” he asked as everyone in the room seemingly converged around us. The henchmen on our flanks, the man getting up from his chair, and Dum-Dum looking at me square in the eye.

  “For one, Raven isn’t the dedicated control unit,” I noted.

  “Hah! Course not!” Dum-Dum boasted, “Militech controllers autolink to Militech systems, I mean, you wouldn’t want ‘em trackin’ their stolen tech back to your hands? Yeah, Raven’s our baby. Got improved neural sync, and no pesky tracing. Should fuckin’ sell that shit.”

  “Makes sense,” I said affirmatively, “Alright, we’ll take it.”

  “Preem, sure, yeah,” he replied, placing the shard back into the case and tucking it under the Flathead, “Let’s see your cred.”

  “Brick got it. It’s all paid up.”

  Suddenly, the man behind him slammed the garage door shut, drawing everyone’s attention as he stormed into the room. Royce, I presumed. “Brick got it, heh,” he mocked me, “I don’t see any fuckin’ Brick around here, do you?” He drew his weapon and pointed it square at my head, his mass of optics and sensors focusing directly on me. “Nice little toy you got there. Whatcha gonna do, give me a fuckin’ papercut? Fuck off.”

  “Please,” I rolled my eyes, “You really can’t expect us to pay twice.”

  “And who the fuck’re you to say what can and can’t be?” he fired back, “You’ll pay twice because I say you’ll pay twice.” I had no doubt that this man would blow my head off the first chance he got. It wasn’t about the money to him, it was about pride and hubris. I couldn’t compete with this, not without my own means of leverage. Think… “Alright, you want the Flathead, huh? Better see some eddies. Or, better yet, hand over that fancy kitchen knife you got there, and we got ourselves a deal.”

  “Hm, seeing as you already got the money, you ought to give us a discount. A big one.” I had to try my absolute best not to stammer my words. There was no predicting this man, not with whatever the Hell was pumping through his system. Jackie and I just had to play it cool and not show a hint of fear, lest we’ll be leaving this room with far less brain matter than we entered it with.

  “A discount?! Fuuuuck,” he laughed, “The balls on this fuckin’ ninja-ass motherfucker. Fuckin’ discount. Y’know, you never did say who sent you. Who you’re workin’ for…”

  “Dexter DeShawn.” I knew we had to act decisively. Chip or not, this man wasn’t about to let us go without a fight. Something about the way he carried himself gave me chills, and I’m not about to risk my life for some fucking toy.

  “Deeexter DeShaaawn,” he mocked with a hint of laughter, “The lard-ass who punching-animal-fucked his way through half of Pacifica?” He turned his back to me, dropping his guard, “You mean he ain’t dead?-”

  “I got a better deal,” I shot up, drawing my sidearm and planting it beneath his chin, burying the entire threaded muzzle into his neck, “If you’re willing to negotiate.”

  “Dex is alive and kickin’,” Jackie whispered behind Royce, drawing his golden pistols and planting one behind his head, “And he sends his regards.”

  “So, you gonna consider my offer now?” I insisted, the whole room filled with so much tension that it was palpable like soup. All it took was one wrong step and all Hell was about to break loose. But Jackie was outgunned, with a shotgun pointed right at his temple. I had to do this carefully. “Credit’s on this,” produced Militech’s card, handing it to Royce and gently raising my weapon away from his head. Royce was breathing heavily, but seemed to be on the right track. Without another word, the lumbering giant turned around and walked back to his office, presumably to analyze the chip I’d handed him.

  “Phew, that was some good shit, huh?” Dum-Dum chimed in, finally snapping the tension like a twig, “Hey, don’tcha worry. Flathead’s gonna do the trick for ya.” I’d say we had about 30 seconds before Royce discovered the daemon on the credchip. Jackie seemed like he knew it, too, keeping his weapons within reach. I myself kept my katana handy, sheathing my sidearm for the time being. Downside of only having three magazines with me.

  I was wrong.

  Sparks shot out of all of their electrical equipment at once, overloading the netrunner and sending Royce into a frenzy. “Shit!” he shouted, “Shit, shit, shit! Chip’s got a vector on it! Fucking- don’t let ‘em outta here alive! Zero ‘em! I want heads!”

  –

  “背中合 [Back-to-back]!” V shouted as she and Jackie launched themselves from the couches, Jackie immediately opening fire as he advanced up and leaned backward, implicitly trusting that V would be right there behind him. The pair of them squared themselves up against their adversaries, covering either side and slowly advancing as more and more came for them. V and Jackie screamed a pair of battle-cries as they swung themselves around, remaining utterly glued to each other and denying the enemy any opportunity to flank.

  The two worked as seamlessly as longtime dance partners, with V deflecting every shot intended for them while Jackie returned accurate fire between her shoulders before turning back around, spinning and dancing a death tango together with remarkable grace and a fiery anger.

  “I got the Flathead, let’s move!” Jackie shouted as he collected the prototype, leaving V to systematically dismember Dum-Dum. She rushed back into Royce’s office, finding no trace of him aside from a door with the panel punched out.

  –

  “Jackie, looks like Royce dipped, the pussy,” I hissed as I looked through his computer. Nothing of interest – just a list of potential buyers for the Flathead, and a request to cease contacting the mole. Looks like they were onto Gilchrist. I was sure he was the one who compromised the op, but no evidence of that is anywhere here. Neither Jackie nor I could get the door to budge, meaning we had to fight our way out the old-fashioned way – room by room. Sounds like a plan.

  “Fuck,” Jackie panted as he failed for a third time to get the door open, “The shit a guy’s gotta do to get some fresh air, huh?”

  “Don’t worry, Jack, we’ll be out of here soon.” I hope…

  I managed to pry the door open with Shinden, revealing some old maintenance passageways, though where they went was anyone's guess. Still, anywhere is better than here.

  We made our way through the bowels of the meat plant, climbing our way up to the top of what looked like an old ventilation shaft or maintenance duct or something of the sort. “Fuck me… that smell,” Jackie groaned, “Now I get why these fuckin’ people get rid of their noses.”

  “Oh? And here I thought Mexicans loved meat,” I chuckled, idly swinging my sword around while I waited for his big ass to catch up, “Hang on, gotta put my saya back on.” I clipped Shinden’s sheath onto my belt and helped him up by taking the Flathead’s case – fuck me, this thing was heavy. And here’s Jackie just tanking this thing around. Guess those implants are working well for him.

  An alarm constantly blared on and on in the background – I got the feeling I’m gonna be hearing that piece of crap in my dreams tonight, no doubt. All this for a fucking spider bot, too. This had better be worth it. I know Dex said there’s no success without this thing, but we’re after another prototype. Meanwhile he sent us here into the viper’s pit and this is a fucking warm-up? We could’ve been killed so easily back there. Either Dex is insane, desperate, or both.

  I didn’t want to think about it, nor could I afford to right now. Just clear your mind. No use holding grudges if you can’t get your skinny ass out of this plant alive.

  –

  Jackie went through the grate in the floor first, landing squarely in front of yet another Maelstromer. Pure, dumb luck, as it turned out – he immediately opened fire, shouting at V to get the fuck down there and help him out.

  She shot out of the grate with the finesse of a cat, drawing her sword and instantly parrying a round meant for Jackie’s head. A half-dozen more guards rushed their position, with V taking her place in between Jackie and the attackers as a defensive shield to his offensive firepower.

  They entered some sort of a combination factory/laboratory, possibly the source of whatever the hell passed as “meat” in those parts. It more closely resembled a protein paste formed into the rough shape of a patty or squeezed out of a tube. Though neither of them had time to engorge themselves with such delicacies; they had Maelstrom to kill.

  V and Jackie fought with all the experience befitting a pair that went back years, instinctively changing positions to maintain perfect coordination. V stepped in front with Jackie shooting over her shoulder, missing her head by mere inches on either side as she twirled her sword and deflected every shot back to the enemy. The pair were utterly lethal, equally captivating as much as killing Maelstrom with each strike. “Go!” Jackie chanted, ushering V into the next room as she ran her sword through the final ganger in front of her who’d emptied his entire magazine and hit nothing but sword.

  The duo made their way into the laboratories, carving a bloody path through Maelstrom as they went along. The gangbangers proved no challenge for the vicious team, with neither Jackie nor V waiting up for one another; they were simply permanently locked, always together wherever they went.

  “Hey, hey!” V heard shouting from an adjacent maintenance room to the left of the labs, “Someone out there?”

  –

  I dispatched the last remaining soldier for now, a netrunner cowering behind a microwave. I must’ve struck a self-destruct mechanism because as soon as my blade left her head, her entire body exploded in a shower of synthetic blood and particles, Jackie impulsively ducking behind some large machinery for cover. “Fucking hell, what the fuck was that?” he shouted.

  “Fuck if I know – Wait, you hear that guy?”

  “What?”

  “There’s a guy over… uh…” I wandered to the only other door in the area, locked with a padlock. “Fuck. Jackie?”

  “Hmph,” he grunted, trying to get a grip on the door, to no avail. My sword wouldn’t fit in the seam, either. “Well we can’t just leave the poor bastard in there.”

  “Yeah, hang on, look around for a computer, a note… something. Check the bodies.”

  “Right…” he and I both scoured the place before I came across a personal laptop back in the other room… Let’s see… Virus protection, uh, peni-penis enlargement? Okay, uhm… Ah! 9691. Wait, hang on… Oh, son of a bitch. Anthony Gilchrist. Signed off on the convoy, issuing a Lost on Arrival notice. So he was the mole after all. Better forward this to Meredith’s number before they regroup.

  I ushered Jackie back, nearly tripping over several dismembered limbs as I found the door again. We had to be fast here – Royce was likely not going down without a fight.

  I opened it up to see a man sitting down, facing a directional mine. “Careful, hey! Watch it. If I move an inch from this laser, I’ll-”

  “Militech mines have an emergency kill-switch located next to the battery port, just flip it open and…” The laser shut off, the mine going green – disarmed. Fucking idiots didn’t update the design in 10 years.

  “Shit, how’d you– uh, I’m Brick, by the way,” he stood up, “Fucking hell, my legs feel like shit.”

  “Uh, how long were you there?”

  “Long. Days, I think, I dunno… kinda hard to keep track.”

  “Yeah, I can understand that,” I nodded in disbelief. So Brick wasn’t dead after all; Royce was merely holding him hostage, the bastard.

  “Hey, who sent you two?”

  “Dex DeShawn. Though he didn’t mention you were alive.”

  “Bah, doesn’t surprise me, guy always struck me as a gonk.”

  We talked for a little before finally coming to an arrangement – I scratched his back, so he’ll scratch mine should I need Maelstrom’s services sometime down the line. We parted ways amicably, with me drawing my sword again and returning to battle to find a whole new host of problems.

  –

  V and Jackie battled through the main nerve center of the complex, the both of them panting and dripping with sweat as V continued cleaving through round after round and Jackie struggled to drag the Flathead behind him. Yet the pair persevered, nailing one gangbanger after another despite accruing several bruises and hits from the combatants. Their subdermal armor held up strong against the small-arms, though V could feel the plating in her shoulders shatter with the last hit she received, ducking behind a box and letting Jackie take point to allow her to recuperate a little. “You okay?” Jackie shouted over the noise and commotion; V simply nodded in return, gripping her sword with conviction and leaping over, rushing towards the enemy with not an ounce of fear in her eyes, thanks to her solid backup.

  Jackie was hopelessly out of breath by this point, reluctantly taking a rear guard position while they moved up to the second story, searching for a way out that wasn’t in lockdown. The pair found themselves in yet another maintenance section, this time swarming with guards from multiple angles. Yet they stood no chance, for it was a narrow corridor and V held an extreme advantage. Unable to flank or effectively fire back, V proceeded down the corridor with Jackie providing overwatch, keeping each soldier pinned down while V went from cover to cover, systematically slicing apart anyone she found.

  Before long, the two found their way to a large garage-like entrance, with only a few more goons standing between them and freedom. With no sign of Royce anywhere, V expertly deflected two of the three shots coming in at the same time, stunning the goons and causing them to stumble as she savagely charged them down. None of them were able to produce any follow-up shots before they were all sliced to ribbons and shot by Jackie like the couple dozen before them.

  –

  I turned the corner and opened the door to the storage area and– Fuck me.

  “Jackie, down…” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “I found Royce.”

  “You’re not hooked up to your core, you’re gonna fry in 5 minutes if you don’t-” one of his goons warned.

  “Ah, fuck it, where are they?!” Royce shrugged him off.

  Fucking hell. That’s a Militech Centaur. A relic from the war, back when Panzers were all over the place. Its party-piece, that massive cannon on its right arm, fired directed-plasma bolts superheated to 6,000 degrees Centigrade, utterly vaporizing anything unlucky enough to get hit. On its left shoulder rested a full-length ballistic polymer shield, keeping the operator safe from return fire.

  “What the fuck is that thing?!” Jackie whispered to me. I gave him the briefest of explanations in return – go around the shield, and for God’s sake, do not get hit by that cannon.

  I jumped down onto the main floor, ducking behind some boxes and glancing over the thing for any potential weaknesses. “If I recall, this unit liked to overheat a lot… If you can goad him into firing at you, I can close the distance and finish him off.”

  “Fucking hell, you should’ve shot this guy from the start,” Jackie muttered.

  “Yeah, berate me later,” I scowled, “Let’s do this.”

  –

  “FOUND YA!” V and Jackie both heard, glancing over their shoulders to see this lumbering monstrosity warming up the thermal cannon. In blind panic, both of them split up to either side, temporarily throwing off Royce as he wasn’t sure who to shoot first. V made her way around in a clockwise direction, moving too quickly for the Centaur to keep up and quickly dispatching the sole remaining Maelstromer cowering behind his boss in fear.

  Royce immediately switched fire to V, shouting “FUCK YOU! FUCKING MILITECH CORPO CUNT!” as he produced a full charge of his cannon, blasting the ground directly next to her. The shot utterly vaporized the dismembered body of Royce’s former second-in-command, erupting a massive fireball that superheated the air around it. V reeled backwards, cowering behind a pillar for dear life as he continued his unrelenting fire.

  V held one terror she rarely described to anyone – pyrophobia, the irrational fear of fire. As the plasma discharge licked her arms, causing scorch marks and blackening her clothes, V couldn’t help but whimper and tremble in fear as she felt herself once again consumed by a great fire, like so many dreams she’s had throughout her adulthood. “FUCKING BURN, BITCH!” Royce shouted as V dropped her sword and held her hands up to her ears, internally screaming for the pain to end.

  –

  Stop it – stop it! No matter how much I screamed, they just wouldn’t stop burning… They wouldn’t stop. I could see his face… melting… like hot wax…

  Why won’t anybody help?! Please… I could feel him… hear his cries of terror… Somebody please… help…

  I tried… I couldn’t do it… I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was watch. Listen to the inhuman screams…

  Ite, inflammate omnia… Go, and set the world on fire…

  The sky darkened to a bloody shade of crimson. I looked up and witnessed him, motionless, embers in the wind…

  Stop… Stop helping me… Please… I just want to die… please…

  –

  “V!” Jackie shouted, “Ey, fucker! Over he…FUCK!” Royce’s attention pivoted to V’s brother as he ducked behind some boxes, his only cover vaporizing into mist after the first shot. “V! Fucking– V!!” Jackie screamed at his sister, shaking and crying in the corner as he dove behind some metal lockers – once again, they only lasted a single shot. Yet, at last, Royce’s machine overheated.

  “V, PLEASE, HELP!!” Jackie shouted at the top of his lungs, finally snapping V out of her funk. She grasped her sword and leapt out from behind the disintegrating pillar, charging with tears still streaming from her eyes as she went straight for that cannon, severing the power cables in one fell swoop.

  “What the fu-AHHGH!” Royce shouted his final words as V leapt over him and disconnected his auxiliary power, Jackie pumping ridiculous amounts of lead into his power armor’s frame and critically wounding him. “Fucking… son of a… FUCK YOU!” he finally managed as both V and Jackie finished him off together, with V plunging her katana straight into his heart while Jackie put a bullet directly in his central eye like a glowing red target. Royce’s equipment violently exploded, showering the pair in sparks and licks of flame as V again recoiled back from the heat.

  –

  “V!” Jackie shouted, “V! Are you okay?!”

  “Yeah… yeah, uh– I’m okay,” I stuttered. I couldn’t get it out of my head… “Look, can we talk about it later?”

  “V, seriously, you look terrible,” Jackie came up to me, but I stepped back impulsively and shuddered, “Fuck, come on, just talk to me, what happened?!”

  “I-I’m sorry… I…” I quietly sobbed, “I don’t know what to say…”

  “V, in all my years of bein’ with you, I never heard you scream like that. Never,” he took another step towards me, more cautiously this time. I raised my hands in front of my chest, but couldn’t bring myself to look away from him.

  “Now I’m right here, but I gotta know what’s goin’ on-”

  “No, you don’t, Jackie,” I insisted, storming off past him. It wasn’t his fault. I just… I couldn’t take it anymore. And I hated that he saw me like this… I’m supposed to be this strong, fearless leader for him, yet all I did was cower in the corner like some fucking failure… I couldn’t stand to look at myself. I just wanted to get out. Fuck this job-

  Yet, as soon as I stepped outside, a Militech drone flew right in front of my face, uncharacteristically startling me before Jackie put his hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Cappy, just a buzzard. Fuckin’ Militech’s got ‘em everywhere.”

  “Right, right…” A pair of trucks approached, blocking the entrance and the roadway for a pair of approaching AVs as they descended. Guess the cavalry arrived to pick up the tab while we got to enjoy the party. Shameful of them. At least they had the common courtesy not to land near my car or Jackie’s bike.

  “That the Militech bitch you mentioned?”

  “Yup,” I nodded as Meredith’s figure came into view.

  “Shiiit, she knows how to bring the heat,” Jackie admired.

  “Yup.”

  “Betcha didn’t expect to see me here,” Meredith began, taking a drag of her cigarette, “You know, I like the way you operate. Maybe some day you can do some more work for us?” A couple soldiers marched on past me, heading inside where we just came out.

  “You understand I used to work for Arasaka, right?” I spoke plainly to her, knowing full-well she already understood what I was doing. She knew, because if I was in her shoes, that’s what I’d know.

  “I do,” she stared at me, unblinking as she blew out the smoke through her nostrils, “Pity they saw fit to let go of such talent.”

  “Oh? And what gave you the impression that they let me go?”

  “Didn’t they?” she retorted, “People like you leave… an impression. So I took the liberty of finding your file. Captain Tokai, former Section Chief of Arasaka Counterintel. Disgraced and stripped of her rank and file…”

  “Hmph,” I grunted, “And you’re Meredith Stout. Senior Operations Manager, a company woman for over a decade. Military background, trying desperately to keep what happened to me from happening to her.”

  “Vague assumptions,” she grinned, “Though not far off.”

  “And you merely read a company bulletin,” I retorted, “Let’s get one thing straight. You and I faced each other on the battlefield less than a decade ago. I appreciate the offer, but I must apologize as I don’t wield double-edged swords.”

  “A bold assumption to make, that we would seek to exploit you in the same way that Arasaka had,” she fired back, “Let me tell you something you already know. You can remove the soldier from the battlefield, but you can’t remove the battlefield from the soldier.” She came right up to me and looked me dead in the eye. “Should you ever want to temper that edge, it remains a standing offer. Captain.”

  Meredith gave me a courteous bow rather than a salute, which I returned in earnest. Likely, then, that she knew of my heritage as well. An interesting woman, but not one I’d be comfortable working with, I’m sure. “Well, maybe I’ll see you again, corpo gods willing,” she said more casually as she passed by.

  “Watch your step. Might trip over an arm or torso in there,” I shouted as she disappeared inside.

  “Fucking hell,” Jackie muttered, “It’s finally over.”

  “Good work, Jack,” I smiled at him, “And thanks.”

  “Hey, what’re friends for, eh?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Just let Dex know we got his toy for him then meet me back at your place, yeah? Let’s go do som’n tomorrow.”

  “Sure, I could use that.”

  “Cool, cool,” he nodded, “I’mma be off, lemme know if you need anything.”

  “I will.” Jackie subsequently headed off, hopping onto his motorcycle and roaring down the side street with all the subtlety of a jackhammer. He was right, though – it’s been a long fucking day. Let’s just call Dex and be done with this.

  “So, how’re things hangin’, Miss V?” Dex answered.

  “I got the Flathead. Maelstrom didn’t want to pay for it, as predicted. Royce tried to give me a hard time, but we convinced him to see reason.”

  “Hm, how’d you do it? Use the Militech connection?”

  “I met with her, yes. And we struck a deal.”

  “Well, well.”

  “She gave me a spiked chip with enough for the Flathead and then some. Virus attacked the Maelstromers, and negotiations broke down after that. You won’t be hearing from any of them anymore.”

  “Hah, you got some balls, Miss V,” Dex complimented, “And the meet with Evelyn?”

  “Want to get some sleep first, it’s late. Request her to meet tomorrow evening.”

  “Your wish is my command, she’ll be at Lizzie’s Bar. Good night, V.”

  Man, something about that guy just rubs me the wrong way…

  Produced: Unknown, first reforged <1600, last reforged 2067

  Blade length: 80.5cm

  Blade profile: Curved, single-edged

  Hilt type: 1.5-handed, rounded tsuba

  Blade composition: 7-layer Nagamitsu-style, martensite and pearlite-infused tamahagane core, reforged with nanomolecular steel with vibration-absorbing polymer inserts

  Saya / sheath: black lacquered ebony with mineral oil-infused magnolia core, decorated with black kurigata ribbon

  Type: Exotic one-handed Very Heavy melee weapon

  Manufacturer: Custom

  Skill: Melee Weapons

  Concealability: Cannot be concealed

  Availability: Unique

  Cost: N/A

  Accuracy: 0

  Damage/Accuracy: 4d6

  Rate of fire: 1

  Reliability: Excellent Quality

  Special Features: Ignores all armor below SP5. 50% bullet deflection accuracy penalty when wielded one-handed. This weapon may be carried in its scabbard without penalty into public spaces not controlled by gangs if held by Setsuka. Suffers no movement penalty when drawing from the scabbard.