Iron Man
The civilian-grade cybernetics came out easy, just like it was all designed to, leaving nothing but a stump of biological and technological parts, as vulnerable as can be. Thoughts of where the original stuff had went were unavoidable, but not for long, as enhancements that once had been there were returned to the body.
An advanced biomonitor on the heart. CataResist to boost the immune system. Hybrid muscles with neofiber. A Kerenzikov implant on the spine. Subdermal armour with fireproof and electrical protection under the skin...
And the fun stuff. The leg augmentations, the smart link in the right palm... the titanium-plated projectile launch system in the left arm, loaded with Militech API ammunition.
When it was all over, V had been transformed once again. The cyberware that had kept him alive and deadly through all that had happened at Arasaka Tower was a part of him once again. All high-end, serious, flashy and absolutely lethal.
It was everything that was expected of V as an edgerunner. The screamsheets would eat it up, the gangs would respect him, and anyone looking to zero him would have a really bad day. All told, he felt powerful in a way he hadn't for months.
V stood up and stretched, leaving the surgical truck to do the standard range-of-motion tests before the ripper could even order him to do so. He had been chipped and re-chipped so often by that stage, Viktor's old adages about making sure everything worked before putting it to work came rushing to the front of his enhanced mind.
He was still working out the kinks, making small corrections with the mod tools, when Panam walked over. She was just out of the shower, a damp towel resting across the back of her neck. Her hair was down, each strand of her locks streaming down half-way to her waist, over the top of a loose red T-shirt.
It would've been all very interesting to V in a particular way... but she was trying to suppress her expression. Of course, she was failing... as usual. Hiding her feelings was not her strong suit. V found the honesty refreshing, even after all these months. He always knew where he stood, a world away from the corpo life he had abandoned.
"You don't like the upgrades," V stated, matter-of-factly, "You never did."
Panam shook her head rapidly a few times, her dreadlocks writhing a little. "People who have that much cyberware lose their minds, V," she half-muttered, "Just don't want you to become a Smasher." She flinched, regretting that comparison immediately.
V didn't find it all that offensive. After all, who knew whether Smasher was a fucking psycho before being turned into a mech with a human brain as a CPU, but if he wasn't, that shit definitely made him one. He reached out and gently pulled her face to look at him again.
"It's all coming out afterwards," V replied, "I promise. I spent a good amount of time tracking down folks who lost their minds because of cyberpsychosis, remember? Back when I needed money for steel and chrome."
"Good," Panam smiled, "Anyway... We've gotta say our see-ya-soons. The representatives of the seven nations have agreed to meet, but the place is on the coast in North Cali. MetaCorp office in Eureka, closest thing to neutral territory. Long journey, three vehicles only."
V perked up, seeing an opportunity there.
"You could come with me to Night City," he suggested, "Ride up the coast? I hear it's a pretty nice drive once you clear the oilfields. Safer too."
Panam tilted her head. "Would attract attention to us going to Eureka though," she pointed out, "Not what we want."
V couldn't disagree with that.
"And since you're so worried, the families from the Jodes, Blood Nation and Folk Nation are gonna send their reps with us," Panam continued, "We'll convoy up to get to Utah. The former Bakkers will join us there, then we push through Nevada and into North Cali. The Thelas and the Meta will be waiting."
V hmmed to himself, and scratched his chin. It sounded like a good plan.
"The other nations going with you..." he ventured, "How strong are they?"
"Not very," Panam admitted, "Not on the West Coast anyway. I mean, Blood Nation are originally from Florida, the three cars they're sending are basically everything they've got out here. But their name carries weight, and since they tagged along on a few of our contracts, the nations with families or clans in Arizona are pretty much on board already."
That was pretty good progress already, but it wouldn't be enough if it was just the dregs of faraway nations. They needed the best.
"Which leaves the Meta, the Snake Nation, and the Thelas," V nodded, before adding, "A corporation, a nation that likes absorbing others and the ocean-nomads who basically don't care about anything that happens on land. I hope you now what to say, because I wouldn't have a fuckin' idea and I could negotiate a corpo right into their grave back in the day."
His lover rolled her eyes at that last remark, but answered anyway.
"I've got some ideas," Panam smiled, "Plus Alt has been spying on their chatter, we'll know exactly what buttons to push."
"So you trust her now?" V asked.
"Nope," Panam said, flatly, "But the stuff she already sent me is gonna help, and there's more to come. I'll worry about the AI coming to kill us later, when you're not dying and we're not going to starve."
V didn't have an answer for that... and his mind wandered. He had been separated from Panam on gigs plenty of times since they had come to Arizona, but she was never far away really. Now, she would be... and he felt stupidly protective. In a way she definitely wouldn't appreciate, but he definitely had to do something to express.
"Speaking of steel and chrome..." he began, "I've got some stuff for you." Maybe it would go over better if he expressed his stupid feeling with useful gifts instead.
They went over towards Beast, which was sitting a dozen yards away. He popped the tailgate down at the back, and pulled out the storage bin, revealing the arsenal within.
"V, won't you need..." Panam began.
"I've got more guns and armour than I could possibly need," he countered quickly, "Including stuff I've never really used. Gotta apologise for regifting first though."
V pulled out Overwatch with some difficulty, the silenced Grad rifle that she had given him after saving Saul from the Wraiths, still partially encased in its foam padding. She took it reluctantly from him.
"I know you gave it to me, but you were always better with it," V said, "Plus I've still got the O'Five." He gave the other Grad he owned a light slap where it lay in the bin... the one that fired armour-piercing explosive rounds.
"Suppose you're right," Panam said, liking the concession that she was a better natural shot, "Though not sure this is going to be much help in the negotiations. Am I supposed to hit them with it?" She hefted the weight of the rifle in her arms and cocked an eyebrow.
V shrugged. "It's more for the very unlikely scenario where you fail to convince them," he retorted, hands up, "Maybe if you kill the leaders that don't agree, their replacements will be more cooperative. Corpo style."
It was a joke, but not a very funny one.
"Ha," Panam stated, without mirth.
"As for the negotiations themselves, I do have a few somethings that might help," V said, reaching into the storage once again and retrieving one of the somethings.
"Alpha series Electric Baton," he said, throwing the thing end-to-end in the air, "It'll knock out anyone not loaded up with the latest grounding plating in an instant, or just make them hurt bad on lower settings."
He caught the baton and offered it to Panam handle-first, holding the dangerous end. He did have the latest grounding plating cyberware, after all. She eyed him and the baton, before taking it without a word, collapsing it and hanging it off a loop on her belt. She was impressed.
"Okay," she said, "Not bad."
"The other something," V continued, looking into the recesses of the bin. What he was searching for was in a hidden compartment, because it might be the most valuable single weapon he owned for reasons of... history.
"I know what you're doing, you know," Panam said flatly, as he leaned over, trying to get the damn compartment to open, "I did take care of myself before you came along."
"So you remind me," V said, exerting himself now. The metal had bent slightly. "But that doesn't mean you won't need the best to get through this time."
Panam came around the other side, opposite V, glaring into the storage. "What are you doing?" she asked, "I thought you were borged up enough to open a damn metal box."
"I'm trying to do it without ripping the whole side of the trunk," V sighed, "One second."
Three seconds later, and he had ripped the lip of the hidden compartment off like a candy wrapper, end-to-end, and retrieved the item.
The weapon glistened in the early morning sun, its barrel shining silver.
"Malorian Arms 3516," V declared, giving it a spin in his palm like he had done it a thousand times. In truth, it had been Johnny that had done it that much... but those memories remained.
Panam looked at him blankly, almost in shock.
"V... that's Johnny Silverhand's pistol," she said, "I can't take that."
Interesting. V hadn't expected that he would need to sell it. But he knew why she should have it with her.
"Just imagine it, Panam," he said, "You walk into the meeting of the Seven Nomad Nations, this pistol on your hip. It'll make a bold statement. It's exactly the sort of steel the 'Queen of the Highway' should be packing."
"Johnny Silverhand was a cursed soul, V," Panam retorted, crossing her arms, "He couldn't even die right. Plus I doubt the Snake Nation and Meta appreciate his politics. Any reminder of him is going to run against what we're hoping to plan, not make people buy into it."
"I don't think so," V replied, "What we need to do is a whole other level of crazy. We need to show them that we're crazy enough to follow through. We've gotta remind them every single time, both of us, even after the Arasaka Tower gig. We gotta show that we're the Silverhands of this generation, that there's no stopping us until we've got what we want in our hands."
Panam bit her lip and looked away.
"It's also a great gun," V added, "It'll get you out of any close encounter quick. You don't have the chrome to take a hit, so you need to dish it out hard from the first shot. This cannon is just the ticket. So, please..."
V held out the weapon in his open palm for her to take, inside its holster.
Panam's hands went to her hips, as she glared at him for what must've been a solid minute. Regret began to build up in V like a a fire, forcing him to wonder if he had made a colossal mistake. How he remembered Johnny and how Panam remembered him were two entirely different things... Had he just wedged that divide wide open?
She snatched the gun and holster from his hands.
"We really are crazy," Panam sighed, "I'm taking it because it is a good weapon. Don't expect me to wave it around, shouting about revolution."
V exhaled with relief, and nodded. "Leave that to Alt," he agreed, "And her Johnny alter-ego."
