Eminence Front

Afterlife was near empty in the mid-morning.

No mercs hanging around, no exotic dancers in their water tubes to ogle, only a single bartender who was more interested in finishing his clean-up job from the night before. Instead of music, a radio news channel from another continent was piped through the speakers at only a quarter of the volume normally outputted in the bar. Romanian, the translation software said.

River had walked in past the bouncer with no trouble at all, something he wouldn't have dreamed of in days past. It was amazing how far a little corporate backing could take you, even in the underbelly of Night City. He wasn't stupid, he knew it tainted every single interaction he had, but he wouldn't so much as be able to speak to some of the people otherwise.

He was to meet a guy like that.

Finding he had arrived first, he sat down at the bar and waited politely until the bartender noticed him. The man appeared to be in his fifties but was likely older than that given his extensive but discreet cyberware. Not here to enquire about bartenders even if they must've had a story, River instead ordered coffee instead. He received it swiftly, a little surprised at how good the service was at that hour.

The bartender stuck around as he drank, polishing glasses. River was halfway through his cup when his contact arrived.

The Wraith strolled in wearing 6th Street colours, of all things. He was not with them though. He lacked cyberware, a military gait or any lack of comfort in being at a place that would get an ordinary Sixer tossed out on his ass. But those were details few would notice, especially if they hadn't been warned beforehand about his presences. Otherwise, he fit the profile. Six foot, well muscled, well armed and with a gangoon swagger.

River shifted his weight uncomfortably. The man's reputation clearly had merit behind it.

"You must be Chameleon," he said as the man approached, "I'm River." He offered his hand, pretending the guy was civilised.

"I know," Chameleon said gruffly, ignoring the hand and sitting down, "You got the eddies?"

As expected, this wasn't going to be a civil conversation. River lowered his hand and returned it to his coffee. "Sure I do," he replied, "And you'll get them when I have what I need and I walk away breathing."

Chameleon shrugged, and leaned one arm on the countertop. "Well, you passed that test," he said, "Not that it buys you cred, only a moron would've handed over the money first. Which brings me to the next thing."

He pointed at the bartender, who was still there cleaning glasses on the other side of the counter. "Who's this guy?" he asked, "I ain't seen him before. And I do most of my business in Night City out of this joint."

River frowned, considering the problem for a moment. He wasn't about to admit he had just thought of the man as a bartender. Luckily, he was saved by the bell.

"I'm Rogue's eyes and ears," the bartender said, "Since she isn't interested in hanging around watching you at the moment."

Chameleon tilted his head in confusion. "This is the first time the great Rogue has ever paid real attention to what I do," he said, "Why start now?"

The bartender put down the glass and cleaning towel, and crossed his arms. "I believe her words were 'I want all Arasaka business watched', or something like that," he said, "Any information exchanged between you, she's gonna know. You best make your peace with that."

Already knowing the answer and knowing Chameleon knew it too, River almost hesitated to ask. "And if we don't want to hand over what we know to Rogue?" he said, "We aren't going to walk out of here, are we?"

"Of course not," Chameleon answered first.

"Your masters are fine with it, Mr. Ward," the bartender said, "They would have ordered you to avoid this place otherwise."

"Just like I would've avoided it if I had known Rogue would interfere like this," Chameleon complained, "You know what would happen if word got out she was doing something like this?"

"As if anyone would believe a word you said," the bartender sighed, "You're a Raffen Shiv rat. A competent one, one with stones and skills, but a rat all the same. Spread rumours about Rogue and everyone will assume you're making a move against her. She won't even have to lift a finger to stop you then, Night City mercs will kill you on general principle."

Chameleon smirked, like he didn't believe it.

But River did. His mind turned over, making the connection. "Because their business depends on her," he concluded. The bartender pointed at him in confirmation, eyes locked with Chameleon.

The Wraith looked back blankly. "I prefer Claire," he said after a moment, "As ironic as it is, while you're back there, get me a Jackie Welles."

His chest shaking, River suppressed a laugh. Reminding Rogue's eyes and ears that he was only a bartender when he was clearly more than that was a way to get a drink with spit in it at the very least. But apparently professionalism was still alive, because the man made the requested drink, in front of them both, no extra ingredients.

"Let's get back to the thing," River said, "You have information about the Aldecaldos. I want it. Spill."

The bartender handed Chameleon his drink, and he sipped audibly. "My brother is watching them right now," he said, "They're coming back to Night City. Tonight."

River scratched the back of his neck. "All of them?" he asked, "I figure my employers would have told me that if that was the case. They've got satellites. Don't need to tell you that."

Chameleon drank again, a smile crossing his lips. "Sure, if Arasaka could rely on their satellites," he said, "There's a reason I'm dressed like this. My Militech contacts got in touch, with a contract for me. I'm to drive a truck in a convoy to a point in the Badlands tomorrow, where the Aldecaldos will make a show of hijacking it. Which means Militech is confident Arasaka isn't going to be able to create a political or legal mess to prevent them coming."

River nodded to himself. "So they'll set some netrunners loose," he said, "Blind the satellites for the night."

It fit with details he already knew, like Arasaka somehow finding it hard to hack Aldecaldo communications. He assumed that V had simply too much knowledge of how the corp worked for them to achieve it, but maybe Militech had been helping all along. Or so he guessed.

"Probably make a gap in the border too," Chameleon added, "Maybe they've reopened one of the old Aldecaldo tunnels again." He shrugged and the smile grew wider. He knew more about that than he was telling.

All very interesting, but River wasn't sure how it was useful.

"So what?" he said, "Let's say you know the exact spot they will cross. How do you expect us to take advantage of that intel? Arasaka can't be seen fighting at the border, it would invite Militech to take their pieces off the board. So what am I supposed to do with this?"

Nomads, even ones as famous as the Aldecaldos, weren't exactly popular in the halls of power. Though more popular than they had been before Peralez had taken office.

Chameleon shook his head. "Leak it to the media if you want," he shrugged, "But what you should do is arm me and mine to stop them."

River frowned. "Last time that happened, it didn't work out for you," he said, "Besides, you don't think Militech knows who you really are? This has trap written all over it."

"Chameleon isn't my nickname for kicks," the Wraith replied, "No way they've made me."

"Even assuming that it's bullshit," River continued, "Do the Wraiths have the strength to fight the Aldecaldos?"

"In Arizona? No," Chameleon said, "In Night City and the Badlands? V killed a whole bunch of us the last time, sent the rest of us running... for a while. But there's enough of us, ready to go. All we need are the weapons."

Feeling like he wanted to put his head through the bar counter, he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to prevent an outburst that might see every Wraith chasing him. He heard the bartender chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Chameleon asked.

"Oh nothing," the bartender said, "The reek of desperation off of you would choke a horse. How you ever got good enough to be allowed into this place being as dumb as you are is a god damn mystery."

Fighting words. River winced, moving down a seat to avoid the likely violence to come.

Sure enough, as if incapable of controlling himself, Chameleon stood up from his seat quickly, hand going to a pistol. But before he could bring it up to shoot, a sharp metallic click sounded from behind.

River turned to find Rogue, the Rogue, standing behind in jeans, a black t-shirt and no shoes, holding a blue tinted custom Liberty pistol towards the back of Chameleon's head. She looked like she had just woken up, her hair a mess, but her gaze was full of rage.

"I let you do biz here because you brought top shelf intel," Rogue said, "But you are about a second away from signing your own death warrant."

"This is personal, Rogue," Chameleon replied, "I apologise if things got out of hand, but your man here has a big mouth. A liability in your business."

"That's why he's on morning shift," Rogue replied, "I would tell you to get your ass out of here and never come back, but V is going to paint the Badlands red with your blood anyway."

Rogue's gaze moved to River, sending a bolt of lightning up his spine despite her aim not shifting an inch. "And you, River Ward, are way in over your head," she said, "You sold yourself cheap to tangle with a mercenary that even I would think twice about crossing. To say nothing of his girlfriend's army of nomads"

His pride hurting, he felt obliged to defend his honour a little. "I did what I could to save my family, same thing V would do," he said, "And I'm not sure I want to hear this from someone else who sold themselves to the same master."

Rogue stared at him for a moment. "Look at that," she said flatly, "Puppy has a bark."

"But not enough fang," the bartender added, "V will turn him inside out too."

A thought that had occurred more than once.

"Fighting V isn't my job. Getting the right intel is," River interrupted, "Chameleon, I'll talk to my employer immediately, and give you a call. I wouldn't hold my breath though. For now, let's get out of here."

"Smart move," Rogue smiled, "Chameleon's going to leave that pistol on the counter though. Call it a tax."


To River's surprise, Takemura approved the arming of the Wraith remnants.

Worse, the Arasaka warrior had ordered him to disguise himself as a NorCal border guard and go to observe the fight from a hilltop nearby, handing him a scope and a very expensive ID jammer mod for the job, then telling him where the best position to do so would be.

River had no idea why, and that scared him. What sort of test was this?

Maybe one of tolerance for the true bastards out there.

It seemed like every Raffen bastard he knew was still alive had come out of the woodwork and been handed a gun and an armoured vehicle. Men and women who should be dead or jailed were instead being given military-grade armaments.

But whatever outrage he felt about that was quickly turned to calculation as he noticed that every single weapon and truck was a Militech model. There was a game being played here, and the Wraiths were the pawns. Maybe the test was more to measure his intelligence.

The Aldecaldos chewed them up like it was nothing.

What came across the border from Arizona via Nevada was not a nomad family, it was an army. The Wraith ambush was detected by a swarm of drones, forcing many of the guns to aim up into the sky. That let the wedge of armoured vehicles, a panzer at the very tip of the spear, ride right through the middle. The toughest of the Raffen vehicles were hit hard then bypassed, the wedge splitting in two to surround the two wings.

The discipline of the whole manoeuvre told River that the Aldecaldos had done it before. Even when a few of their trucks took bad hits, the whole formation just kept moving.

After that, it was just a slaughter. The drones kept the Wraiths from moving, shooting up tires, splashing missiles down on the crystaldome windows. Only a half dozen cars escaped by bolting at opportune moments.

With their vehicles turned into death traps, the trapped Raffen in one of the surrounded pockets took to their feet instead, heading for the rocky crags below their original positions to make their last stand.

That was when River saw him for the first time since he had left; V himself.

He dismounted from the panzer and joined a crew of heavy hitters supported by heavy bipedal mechs, Arasaka-built ones 'liberated' during the attack on the Tower. The Aldecaldos methodically swept the rocks, a close-in firefight seeing the end of most of the remaining Wraiths and the final conclusion was V himself plunging a sword into the belly of the last.

River felt a cold stream of sweat go down his back. He reconsidered the purpose of his being present again; maybe Arasaka wanted him to know just how screwed he was, that he was now their only protection from the mercenary-turned-nomad hero.

He was about to leave to avoid being seen when the chomp of boots behind alerted him to the presence of someone else. Heart racing, he twisted on the spot, revolver in hand, only to find Takemura standing behind him, alone. He too was in North California military garb, though only his eyes were visible underneath the helmet and balaclava on his head.

River breathed easy again, holstering his weapon.

"Terrible," Takemura condemned, walking up to the crest of the hill to join him, "These barbarians could not even destroy a significant portion of the Aldecaldos. Three vehicles destroyed. Pitiful."

River glanced between him and the battlefield. "But you knew that before things went down," he said, "The Wraiths were never a match for the Aldecaldos. You knew V would be here to fight them."

Takemura shook his head slowly. "On the contrary, they had the tools to do serious harm to the Aldecaldos," he said, "But instead of fighting in their traditional, cowardly mode, the Wraiths sought a decisive battle in the interests of revenge. I can sympathise with that, even if it is lacking in intelligence."

The ruthlessness of this was hard to swallow, but it seemed the Arasaka plan for the Wraiths was just wasteful. "You knew they'd do that," River pressed, "Even encouraged it, through me."

"We did," Takemura confirmed, "The Raffen learn no lessons. They thought they could out-think Panam Palmer and out-fight V. Their cousins in Arizona and Nevada discovered otherwise."

"But why do this?" River asked, "You could've instructed them on a more effective strategy."

"You assume they would listen and that we did not try," Takemura replied, "But truthfully, the Raffen Shiv are the one card we cannot play inside Night City. The gangs would not tolerate them, nor would the government. Better to give them an opportunity to damage the Aldecaldos, before the game moved to a board we could not use them on."

River had no answer for that. He did not know if it was true or not. Instead of answering, he stared out at the burning wrecks of Militech-built trucks and technicals, while Arasaka's enemies regrouped in their own Arasaka-built vehicles. The irony of this was not lost on him. And it stirred his thoughts enough.

"It wasn't only about hurting the Aldecaldos," he thought aloud, turning to Takemura, "It was about hurting Militech."

The warrior's eyes widened with surprise. "An astute observation," he said, "What makes you think so?"

"The number of drones, the fact all of the weapons you handed over were Militech, and the Aldecaldos being able to cross the border without fighting them," River explained, "The corp must've provided the drone cover and a gap in the minefield, and since you provided weapons that seem to be from them, it makes it look like Militech was backing both sides."

He looked out again at the battlefield.

"Fighting on the border usually results in Militech getting more contract money," River said, "So you've made it look like they've generated a conflict to increase their profits. And since Peralez is mayor..."

"He is against violence for corporate profit," Takemura concluded on his behalf, "He will see any violent action by the Aldecaldos as a Militech ploy. He is a remarkably paranoid man. And we can use that against our rival corporation."

"Only problem with that is I know V worked for the man," River said, "The way V talked about it, they were on pretty good terms. Including the wife. He might be able to talk the mayor down."

"Perhaps, but this assumes V will even try," Takemura said, "Militech's reputation is not V's concern. More scrutiny of the corporation's activities from the authorities is what we require. This will prevent them acting more directly when he strikes."

River understood why without being told. The real threat wasn't really V or the Aldecaldos, it was Militech taking advantage of the opening the nomads could create. They had done so in the aftermath of the Relic chip's true purpose being revealed, and they would do so again.

"Either way, it seems the Aldecaldos are back," River said, "I wonder what happened to the whole 'joining the Meta to rebuild America' thing."

The warrior scoffed at this.

"MetaCorp released a press statement two hours ago," Takemura replied, "The Aldecaldos will be in Night City for the first phase of their project. We do not know if this means they are complicit, but it seems likely that the Meta are turning a blind eye. They have given their fellow nomads cover. This may have been the price of Panam Palmer's cooperation."

River felt his guts swirl with shock. Everything he just saw in the desert of the Badlands could be replayed on the streets of NC, ten times over.

"Allowing V to put his little army just outside the city," he said, "Letting him attack before anyone in the government suspects. Jesus Christ."

The Arasaka warrior sighed, crossing his arms.

"A grave threat indeed," Takemura nodded, "Many innocents will be harmed if he is not stopped."