Thanks for all the love and support. Filler chapter :/

Their earlier conversation had been simple. V had called Panam at the perfect time, and when hoping to find reliable muscle in Night City, it was just as hard as having to pay said muscle.

Keeping this in mind, Panam had made a deal.

So long as the Aldecaldo camp wasn't burned to the ground, V would have a roof over his head and a temporary safe space to operate out of.

Provided he paid for any and all services those at the camp could provide him.

The only thing that was free was the accommodation.

And a parking space near the hastily erected tent.

"Are you sure about this guy?"

Panam kept her eyes on the horizon, the little cloud of dust being her only clue to V's approaching position. She heard Mitch's words and understood why he said them.

Even though he had agreed with her that muscle was muscle, he had a… thing, about outsiders.

"He's reliable," she shrugged lightly.

The car was now visible.

A Hella EC-D.

But Panam's keen eye was able to discern the marginally less battered condition of V's previous ride. Either he was driving a new car, or he'd gotten some work done.

"And you can tell Saul the same thing, next time he shows his face 'round camp" Panam nodded at the stopped car, 10 feet away.

"This one's reliable"

Mitch said nothing.

The driver's side door to the now stopped car swung open slowly.

...as did the backseat on the same side.

Two people emerged.

The first was obviously V. But the second….

Panam didn't need to be an expert to spot the obvious Corpo that walked with Rogue's Mercenary.

"I remember someone saying, 'it's only one guy?' As well as something about him being, 'reliable?"

Panam's eyebrow twitched at Mitch's comment. She stormed toward the vehicle.

Panam had marched straight toward me, away from the man she had been standing with. It didn't take a mind reader to know she was angry, and it took even less effort to see what she was so pissed about.

Her eyes were transfixed on Takemura, who stood only a few steps behind me at my five o'clock.

"Who's this?"

Her venom was unexpected, but manageable.

"Nobody special," I replied, rolling my shoulders slightly.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and looked like she was biting back a yell. What came out when she reopened her eyes was, "Corpo?"

"Does that matter?"

Takemura remained silent as I dealt with the venomous nomad.

"It fucking matters" she hissed jerking a thumb back over her shoulder, "because I went out on a limb to stick up for you. Clan can deal with one Merc hovering around us, but a suit? Not likely-"

I step past her, making a beeline for the man she had been standing beside.

"Hey!"

I kept walking until I was right in front of the individual.

Balding. Overalls. Military implants. Technical kinda guy, going by the grease and oil stains. Hardened demeanor, probably from time spent in combat.

Ex-military.

"I'm told you have Raffen problems"

Mister Ex-military cocked his head slightly. Panam hovered just behind me, bustling with fury… but curious as to what I had to say to her friend. He was listening, so I continued.

"Give me everything you have on them, and those problems go away within a few days" I gesture back to Takemura.

"My associate is just here to watch my six. I trust him, and only him, to do so" I make a not so subtle glance to the Nomad's prosthetic arm, "I do hope you understand this"

Military types understand a comrade in arms. They get it when you don't tend to trust someone so casually. Only people forged in the same fires as one another truly have another's back.

This man crossed his arms and scowled at me. With a deep and proper look he weighed me up, taking in everything he could. It was a gaze with enough mileage behind his eyes to startel me… internally.

I suffered under his observation for as long as the man deemed necessary.

Then he spoke.

"Name's Mitch" his look turned pointed. He was expecting a reply, a name from me. So I gave it to him.

"V" I replied, raising my metal hand out toward him.

The man, now identified as Mitch, ignored my offered handshake in favor of looking toward Panam.

"I'll talk to Saul when he's back"

And he turned around, walking off toward the larger camp not a moment later.

Panam exhaled.

"Great" she groaned, drawing my eyeline toward her. She seemed so unimpressed it actually stung me, provoking a response.

"Look, if it's your superior that has a problem with me-"

"Superior?!" she cut through me, on the verge of shouting, "you mean Mitch?" she let out a bark of cruel laughter.

"If you thought you were speaking to the head of the Aldecaldo's as a nobody driving in from Night City, you're in desperate need of some heavy medication" she gestured at the man walking away.

"Mitch just makes sure the vehicles are running. He's a reliable guy. Unlike some"

My mouth moves, but words fail to form.

I had assumed he was the-

Why would he be waiting beside her, for myself and Takemura to arrive, if he wasn't-

Panam laughs again, and this time I'm more than willing to bet that it's because of the look on my face.

"I'd take that bet" Johnny pipes up at my thought, but doesn't appear.

"Nice one Mister Robot" Panam can't help but grin, "presenting yourself as the cold motherfucker I know you to be. That'll definitely earn you points with Saul"

Saul.

This was the name of the Nomad's leader… not this Mitch fellow.

"No shit" Johnny snorted.

My temper flourished for a moment.

But instead of chewing both her and Johnny out, I grit my teeth, and briefly assessed the space around me.

Takemura was the problem here. Nobody trusted a suit, and the ex-bodyguard just bled 'Arasaka Values' from his pores.

But just because I trusted Takemura meant nothing. He was an unknown entity to not just the Nomads, but Panam as well.

And while I needed the Nomads to clear him, I was only here on Panam's word alone… by bringing an Arasaka soldier into the midst of the Nomads...

"Off to a great start" Johnny snorted.

My brain skimmed over my options and choices.

I decided on the most productive one.

...I was going to take a nap in the car.

With this decision to be diplomatic now made, I retreated back to the vehicle with a "we'll wait here" flung back at Panam.

"Damn right you will"

I ignored her reply.

And as I walked to the car, I also ignored Takemura's raised eyebrow.

In two moves and a huff of air, I popped the door to the backseat, slid in and lay down.

"Wake me up when they've made their minds up" was all I said to the still somewhat bemused Arasaka agent.

I shut the door and closed my eyes.

In the darkness it was just me. All alone. Stuck between asleep and awake with no power over being able to enter either….

Storage.

Transport between locations.

They didn't let me see the world…

Father didn't like it when I talked to his people, but he hated it when I spoke with the others. I had only tried once, when we had been told to fight one another, and to this day I remember his fury.

The teachers had hurt me because of that.

I hurt them back.

Father put me in isolation personally because he knew I loathed it. And as soon as I had come out of that damned box?

They put me in my coffin, and sent me on my way. Submerged in that nightmarish and everlasting darkness until…

Until the shooting started. Until the vehicle carrying myself and the others swerved off course.

There were many rocks in the desert, and the truck carrying us did a poor job of avoiding some of the bigger ones.

As the vehicle flipped onto its side, my coffin was sent flying from the top of the stack. It tumbled across the ground, flinging me around within its interior.

All the cables and cords responsible for my paralysis disconnected.

My body was free.

When it finally came to a rest, some kind of emergency feature must have triggered.

Red lightning flashed within the pod, and groggily I looked around, observing any-

There was a lever, the only obtrusion upon the interior of my container.

Flicking it was my only choice, and doing so proved to be my path to freedom.

Salvation.

Father always liked that word.

In the next second my pod popped open, revealing a beautiful night sky. The serene quantity of the world around me was only distrubed by the constant racket of gunfire.

Popping my head out, in one direction I could see vehicles of various makes and kinds all surrounding the truck and its two car escorts.

The truck and the escort both were adorned with the green leaf logo.

Father's people.

A company.

The loyal guards didn't bear the symbol, but they worked for the same people that Father did.

And the attackers?

People in rags and patchwork outfits exchanged fire with what remained of the guards.

A guard dropped dead at the same time it took for four of the raiders to be shot dead.

But these bandits would win… eventually.

They had the numbers.

My head snapped the other way, turning away from the slowly declining gunfight to stare at… and I was ensnared.

Off in the distance, smack dab across the horizon, was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. At the time at least.

The tall buildings were marked with beautiful colors and swirling images… tiny little specks floated through the air… the light and smog of it all ravaged the sky, like a powerful insult to the night.

These creations defied the rules of nature itself, refusing to be bent by lack of sunlight. A city that never had to sleep, if it didn't want to. Where the hour of the day did not determine the presence of life..

I didn't know it at the time, but that was my first look at Night City.

And all it took was one look before I was hooked.

I finally got out of the pod, and let the webbed covering of my feet sink into the cold sand of the desert.

As I stood, I began to realize what I was being given.

A chance.

Now was my chance.

Now was the opportunity for me to leave, and to never come back… with some distance between me and Father, I'd never have to-

"Hey!"

I instinctively turned to the torchlight. For a moment the light blinded me, and I only caught the tousled hair of a male bandit armed with a rifle.

He seemed… perplexed, as he stared at me.

In the next moment I bolted, running as fast as I could toward the open desert and a large cluster of rock outcroppings.

I was running toward the city.

The bandit hesitated a second before shooting at me.

Frankly it wasn't enough of a concern to me.

The combat skin I wore allowed me to blend into the deepening night. My speed through the sand was untenable for a regular human being to keep up with, let alone track.

I lost him in a matter of minutes.

At six and a half years old, I made it to the outskirts of Pacifica by morning.

There, I managed to-

My metal hand exploded upward, gripping the limb that had touched me. A knife found its way into the other, shooting toward the target that-

Goro.

Breathing sharply in and out, I became aware of the layer of sweat along my features as I released my hold on Goro. I hadn't slept so deeply in a long time.

A very long time.

After stowing my knife I scooted down the length of the seat, hauling myself out from the car.

Night was approaching.

'Damn' I thought to myself, looking around as I shut the door to the vehicle, 'long sleep…'

I ignored how Goro was tucking the pistol away, replacing it in his back holster. The man was a killer, somewhat comparable to a being like myself. It would have been odd if he hadn't instinctively drawn a weapon on me.

"You rest with a clouded mind, V" the ex-bodyguard spoke to me, "your body acts before you do"

An accurate observation. But ultimately words that bore a deeper meaning that I summarily ignored. My mind was fully dedicated to the view around me. The desert of nothing as it transitioned into night. Sands and plains that I had crossed so very long ago. It was humbling in a way, to once again be among the terrain that had secured my freedom.

"And what a life that would have been… if you didn't delta outta there"

A second later and the rocker came into corporeal existence, his vest wearing form resting against the car. Taking a page out of Johnny's book, I moved beside him to relax against the frame of my vehicle.

The sun continued to drop.

I tried imagining what I needed to say to Johnny, because something about this moment demanded a talk between us. He was in my head. He'd summarily been subjected to the same things that I had. Maybe not the flashes and moments I'd gotten from his life, but enough details to at least know what I was.

What I was meant for.

"Things could have gone better" I replied to him, in my head of course. Didn't need Goro freaking out.

"You mean for your choom, Jackie" Johnny pressed, gesturing at me with a metal hand now occupied with a cigarette, "besides your recent fuck up with Arasaka, it looked like you had a sweet gig going on"

"It's my fault that-"

Johnny cut me off.

"The only thing you're guilty of is being a dense and coldblooded mother fucker, V. You forget, I've seen Konpeki. I saw what went down. Most people would kill for a friend as loyal as that"

I sigh, pulling out the small metal clasp from my vest.

"It should have been me"

I light the stick up, bringing it to my lips in order to take a deep breath of the cigarette. Johnny is looking at me now, taking his time to study me from behind his shades.

"Look, V. Jackie pushed you out of the way the same way you wish you'd have done the same. He was your friend"

We both took an inhale of our cigarettes almost simultaneously.

"But nothing's going to change what he did. All you can do is make sure you put enough lead into the borg fucker that did him in"

Smasher.

Johnny had beef with the monster of metal that was grafted from a former man. The common ground was enough for now. I let out a bitter chuckle, flicking ash into the wind.

The sun was finally gone, and night rolled over the badlands, obscuring the features of the desert once more.

"I'm going to kill him" I affirm to the digital ghost, picking up movement from behind me, "for both our sakes Johnny"

Silverhand didn't say anything, merely vanishing as I turned to face the Aldecaldo that approached my parked vehicle.

Panam.

With a case of... bottles by her side.

From this distance I'm able to tell that it's an alcoholic beverage.

Panam knew this wasn't the best idea. But it wasn't exactly the worst either. While waiting for Saul to get back to camp from whatever the hell he was doing, Panam decided to finally start picking away at an irritating mystery.

The socially inept and meticulously annoying V, to be precise.

Her first step was easy.

Acquiring a few bottles of brew was an easy thing. Alcohol was easy to find among the Aldecaldo's. But that goes for every Nomad family. However Panam went the extra mile in making sure it was Saul's brew.

That oughta irritate the man.

The second step was the easiest on paper, but considering the individual she wished to ply and prod with questions was as close to an emotional brick wall as any human could get…

Well, she quickly thought of an excuse that might get V to at least consider having a chat with her.

Last but not least, she needed to approach the vehicle with the sleeping Merc in it.

She met eyes with the Arasaka suit as she began to approach the parked car.

A part of her mind noted how aware the Corpo was, and how his head so simply drifted to look at her.

He was refined and eerie. No wonder he was working with V.

A match made in hell….

But as they met eyes and before her face could morph to display her displeasure at his presence, the Corpo leaned towards the vehicle and popped the door.

From as far away as she was, Panam knew there was some kind of scuffle, but she didn't really observe it.

A second later and a few steps closer, V emerged from the backseat.

The two exchanged words for a moment before the Merc settled against the body of the car, drawing a cigarette from somewhere on his form a few moments later.

In the setting sun, V seemed almost serene.

Normal.

Panam could hardly match up this seemingly peaceful individual with the one that had slaughtered the Raffen at Rocky Ridge.

Or killed a kid.

…or killed nash.

All in cold blood.

She shook those thoughts and judgements away as she got within a few feet of the vehicle.

Like the flip of a switch, V is suddenly aware of her presence.

His head switches to her, his eyes going up and down her form before settling on the beer case by her side.

'Atta boy' Panam thought to herself as she finally got closer, 'take the bait'

Panam came to a stop a few feet from me, free hand resting on her cocked hip with a sardonic smile across her face.

"Get a good rest?"

I nod, my eyes glancing down to the bottles of alcohol held in her other hand.

"Yes. Has your leader returned yet?"

Her look shifts to a frown almost instantly. As if I've said something wrong. Which isn't possible because all I've mentioned is the-

"No. Saul's probably dicking around on the way back to camp" she sighed, the frown lessening "but you and your suit friend are still going to need to sit tight 'till he's back"

"I see" is all I say.

There's a comfortable silence between us.

But Panam is the one to break it. This is something that I'm beginning to feel is typical of her and her fiery nature.

"Look. Not to be awkward-"

"Awkward?"

Her hand comes up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, "yes, awkward. But do you mind if we have a word?"

I think for a moment.

There doesn't seem to be any kind of underhanded action being taken here.

"I suppose" I finally settled on.

Panam blinks a few times as my hands come to rest behind my back. Her eyes glance between myself and Takemura a few times.

Her addendum to her initial request follows shortly afterward "Just the two of us"

Hmmm.

I look her over again.

She hasn't got a ballistic weapon on her, but there is a knife strapped to her thigh. If this was some kind of trap I'd be able to take her.

"Oh for crying out loud" Johnny blurts to me, appearing awfully close to Panam in order to inspect her. However it seemed his focus was entirely on the bottles by her side.

"She just wants to chat. To talk. You know what that is? Something normal people do from time to time." the ghost of the Rocker Terrorist glares at me from behind his glasses, "if you don't say yes I'm going to make your mind sit front seat for some of my best groupie memories"

There's a grumble in my throat at that.

Johnny Silverhand was annoying.

And tenacious.

I know I can just submit Johnny to some uncomfortable memories to try and shut him up, but that would involve dredging up the memories for myself as well. It seemed… well Viktor would have called it petty, Jackie would have-

The grumble turns to a cough as I startle my thoughts away from him.

Not now.

Not yet.

For now, I'd take the path of least resistance.

"Sure" I manage to say, before finishing with a much more confident "lead away"

And so she did.

I was the last to enter the repurposed conference room at Arasaka Tower. Having returned from the Operation via Helicopter, I stashed my gear and saw what passed for a Ripperdoc for Arasaka.

A very prompt notification mid operation on my wrist cuts and some diagnostic tuning informed me that the debrief was to be immediately after returning to home base.

Shit.

So as I slipped through the door I was greeted by a very sardonic tone from Kincaid.

"Nice of you to join us"

"Sorry boss" I demurely apologize, finding a space between Mike and Vi "won't happen again"

"Useless meat" the cyberized monster revealed its presence in the corner of the room. Adam Smasher really didn't like me. To be fair, I wasn't personally up to the same level of 'professional effectiveness' as those around me.

My skills were far more honed in my particular field.

However, at least in Smasher's case, I was more motivated to get our target. And that was probably why I had the bare nerve to reply to such a crude depiction of myself.

"Worthless scrap" I snapped back at him.

There's a moment of silence.

I see the servo's that used to be eyes in his Borg skull blink for a moment.

A second later he pushes himself off the support pillar he had his back too, a step taken in my direction.

"Enough"

Kincaid's voice is sharp, his anger palpable in the word alone. It is enough to halt Smasher in his premature violent approach.

It's also enough for me to focus.

Smasher lets out an electronic noise I assume to be a grunt.

"Sorry boss" I mutter again, focusing back to the other side of the conference table where Kincaid and Wolf stand.

The shades are back on Kinkaids face and Wolf is still wearing her helmet, only the latter being seated in the current moment.

"Keep it settled, because we've got some review to do"

The table lit up, revealing its multiple displays and screens.

Arrayed before all six of us was various feeds and displays, footage of what had occured only hours before. All of it, from nearly every perspective.

I managed to also note what my own eyes had seen, sifting between the many images.

Eventually I was drawn to the more important images, ones that were frozen in order to preserve them for further analysis.

The first was an image from one of the guards. An open door with an armed figure in said doorway. This must have been the resistance that Arasaka forces encountered.

The second was the old woman Mike had executed. I could make out every feature on her calm and serene face. An elegant oriental lady, one who knew the fate which was about to befall her.

The third was the most infuriating image. It was our target. V, but from the perspective of Smasher and their hand to hand… well, I suppose hand to chrome, duel.

I still remember the knife that bastard had managed to lob at me. Seeing his face in the freeze frame was slightly disturbing.

I could clearly note how calm his expression was, even as his piercing eyes were focused upon Smasher's own.

A final image was raised above the other four.

My own footage.

The strange figure that had emerged from the smoke. The surprise attack.

"Thank you wolf" Kincaid began, before his arms settled behind his back, "now, before we begin, I want penance" his head drifted to face each member of the team, one after the other.

"From all of you"

"Got too eager"

I turned my head to look at Vi, who was fidgeting her fingers on a considerably smaller prosthetic arm.

"Jumped the gun and I paid the price" she muttered.

"No" Kincaid denied her, "Arasaka paid the price. You jumped the gun on an enemy you underestimated"

Vi bowed her head but said nothing further.

"Should have shot" Mike grumbled, his arms coming to rest across his chest, "could've eliminated, or atleast incapacitated the target"

Kincaid nodded at Mike, "Smasher was in the way. But your right, the mission takes priority over anyone in this room"

Kinkaid turned to look at me.

After two people, I got this gist of whatever fucked up group excercise this was. Penance. Almost sounded religious.

"Jones?"

Oh. Right.

My mind ran through a thousand explanations, a thousand things, before settling on one.

"I'm an expendable asset"

There was a silent moment.

Both Mike and Vi turned to look at me.

It was a tonaly hollow admission, the truth of my importance laid out to bare for me after a few moments of mental reflection.

But after the first few words left my lips, it was impossible to stop the rest.

"I should have done my part to try and flush out the target somehow, or atleast box him in as I would on any other operation. I spent too much time pussyfooting around, pretending like I didn't know what kind of gig I've signed up for, and that cost-"

"That's enough, Jones"

Kincaid cut through my rant, his tone not soft, but not harsh either.

"You are correct. Your failure to accept new duties and your importance among this team lead to inept hesitance. I believe you will correct this in the future"

I nodded.

"Yes sir"

A strangely cathartic feeling blossomed in my chest.

Maybe I was finally coming to terms with my circumstances, and the company I was now keeping…

"Adam" Kincaid addressed his next focus.

A sharp digital rumble, almost like some kind of mechanized growl, erupted from the Night City Legend.

But it didn't turn to violence.

Instead, he got with the program.

"Shit gear. Shit tech. My Chrome wasn't up to snuff" was all he huffed out.

Kincaid remained staring at him, however, and it was a gaze that Adam Smasher returned unflinchingly with his optics.

"What? Not enough?"

The sneering remark still managed to sound jaded through digital voice.

Kincaid removed his glasses with a slow and tired gesture, revealing his own combat implants for eyes.

"I was wondering if you'd remark on engaging the target in close quarters. An unnecessary decision"

Smasher said nothing.

And so Kincaid probed him again.

"With all your firepower available, you couldn't just… reduce him to bits and pieces? What's wrong Adam, going soft? Can't stand a little blood and gore?"

The Borg was deathly still.

If he had a mouth I'd imagine he was grinding his teeth.

Kincaid sighed, his hand coming up to massage the bridge of his nose.

"I answer to the Board, and only the Board, Adam. This was supposed to be a cut and dry matter, simple elimination" Kincaid returned the glasses to his face, "but because I'm such a swell and understanding guy, I'll give you one chance to explain yourself. What did he ask for?"

Smasher answered.

"The head. Intact"

It was a cryptic back and forth, one I really was slowly picking up on.

Sure I understood that Kincaid, and by extension this team, answered only to Arasaka's Board of Directors… apparently another individual had tasked Adam Smasher to accomplish something.

That would have to be a member of the Board. Only someone that high up the ladder could dream of ordering Smasher around. Considering the Borg had been directly under Yorinobu Arasaka since-

Oh shit.

I barely registered Kincaid's follow up question.

"Why?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Probably wants to mount it on a wall or something. This is the same fucker who's responsible for the Old Man's death"

Kincaid stiffened.

Wolf's helmeted head slowly turned to face Smasher.

I heard Vi inhale slightly.

Mike didn't make a noise.

And I eventually realized which 'Old Man' the Borg was referring to.

Kincaid's next words were quiet, but incredibly serious.

"How do you know this?"

Smasher gave another electronic grunt, "I was the Kid's bodyguard at Konpeki. Was a floor below when the Old Man croaked. Our target was there, got discovered trying to escape. Cut a bloody swathe through the building on his way out"

Kincaid failed to stifle his anger.

"And you didn't think anything of this was relevant? That you knew the target?!"

Smasher remained unmoved and unflinchingly calm. I suppose being 98% chrome would help toward that effort of remaining impassive.

"Didn't recognise him until after our dust up at the Tower. Don't see how it's relevant either. Hardly got a chance to take a swing at the fucker. He managed to get out in a Delamain"

Smasher straightened for a moment.

"I fucked up his Choom. But that's it"

Kincaid found his ass in his seat a moment later, head hung back over the seat as he stared at the ceiling in contemplation.

"I don't suppose there are any unsealed records regarding this "Choom" you murdered?"

At his side, Wolf turned to face a screen before her, data streams and access requirements beginning to pop up.

"Boss closed the whole thing up"

"All we'd need is a name," Kincaid flippantly requested.

Wolf plugged her personal Jack into the display table, a second later turning her head to face the Borg.

"Something Welles. Started with a fuckin' J, I don't know" Smasher eventually conceded with a growl, "but if he starts breathing down my neck I didn't tell you shit Kincaid!"

Kincaid eventually sat forward with a nod toward Smasher, finally turning his attention to address the rest of us.

By his side, Wolf was already working.

"Originally we were going to discuss the operation, what we had encountered, and what we were going to do next in order to deal with potential obstacles of a similar nature. Now however-"

He glanced over to the screen in front of Wolf, taking a moment to digest the face and name that was being presented.

"Jackie Welles. We are going to be discussing his family, known associates, any and all hideouts, common grounds, etcetera etcetera"

Panam led me up to a short bank of sand attached to a short ridge, a line of rock that overlooked almost all of the Nomad camp.

Cresting the hill as the light died beyond the horizon was a strangely odd experience.

To suddenly have my sight change from dusty desert to a seemingly thriving community was… surprisingly welcome.

As people chatted around a large bonfire, groups of them cluttered by different tents and temporary structures, I barely noticed Panam take a seat with her legs over the side of the ridge.

"Hey"

That caught my attention.

She was looking at me as she gestured to her right, the offer of a seat being presented by the motion.

I obliged her.

The bottles of alcohol held together by plastic rings was the only thing that separated us.

She was quick to remove a beer, a polite "help yourself" combined with the movement.

I merely nodded, proving that I had heard her. After all, my eyes hadn't left the people beneath us.

I can't describe what it felt like to look upon them all. To be observant to the peace, calm, and joyous atmosphere exuded by what most in Night City referred to as 'Desert Rats'.

But they were people too.

They spent time off.

They relaxed.

They-

"Thanks"

Panam's gratitude caused me to tilt my head toward her. We locked eyes for a moment before she broke the gaze, looking out upon her people.

She took a swig of her beer, not looking at me as she elaborated.

"For Nash. For doing what I… what I couldn't do"

My question came unbidden, a gunt instinct forcing out of my mouth.

"Why?"

Panam looked at me in question.

I expanded the question.

"Why couldn't you?"

She sighed, "it's not that I didn't want to-"

"He betrayed you. Stole from you. Attempted to kill you" I cut across her, "you wanted to kill him"

'And yet you told me to do it' I finished internally while focused on the face of the Nomad, trying to read her conflicted expression with no success.

She met my gaze again. Her eyes were soft.

"I just… couldn't"

I felt my eyebrows knit in frustration.

"That doesn't make any sense"

She scoffed a laugh. This time I was certain it was because of my expression.

"It doesn't have to make sense"

She took another drink, a larger one this time.

A moment later we lapsed into silence and turned our gazes to the Aldecaldo's.

Eventually she moved for another bottle of beer. However, she broke another one away from the plastic, handing it to me.

Not wanting to be… well, rude, I took the offered beverage. I used my metal hand to peel off the cap.

Panam eyed the limb.

"When did that happen?"

"Recently" I mutter, flexing my robotic palm out of base instinct. I knew that sometimes people felt residual 'shadow' twitches, as if their actual limb was still there.

These phantom sensations had not occurred. At least not yet. Some cases have noted these strange feelings to appear months after a limb removal or surgery. Even years.

Father would have been so mad.

"What happened?"

I blink and turn my focus away from the arm, physically moving my head to look at Panam.

"Fought" I explain, "lost"

I take a sip of my beer.

Somehow, I can feel the slight glare she has leveled at me.

"That doesn't tell me much"

"It tells you enough" I honestly reply.

Her glare deepens.

I take another drink.

We lapse back into silence.

The peace and quiet doesn't last long though. It seems Panam is intent on getting 'something' out of me.

"Why don't you like me calling you Mr. V?"

Of all the questions she could ask….

Memories of Jackie surface.

My hand clenches around the bottle.

But I answered her question.

"My friend used to call me that… a nickname… he did it to irritate me…" I drink again, ignoring the bitter liquid as it slides down my throat.

Panam scoffed.

"Somehow I just don't see you having friends. Colleagues, maybe, but not friends"

I blink slightly.

The burning anger in my chest suddenly slips away, the hatred that sat there melting into a wave of something else.

I blink, my vision blurring slightly.

"Had" I correct her, putting the bottle down as I reach my now free hand up to inspect my eyes.

Panam flinches out of the corner of my vision.

My fingers came back wet.

As I studied the liquid my mouth continued to run without my permission.

"He died recently. It was my fault"

My ears pick up on approaching footfalls. A speedy step.

Panam tries to say something.

"V, I-"

But she's interrupted by the arrival of the one she called Mitch. The mechanic.

"Panam!"

He stopped a few feet away from us, a brief moment of hesitation overtaking him before delivering the news.

"Saul's been kidnapped"

AN: Christ this took awhile. AND its a filler to regain my love of Cyberpunk. Sorry for the long wait guys. Be seeing you in the next chapter.

Much love,

Freedom.