Notes taken from my Ao3: Well, I've been sitting on this for a bit and finally feel like I can post it. Maybe a 3 to 4 parter, not sure yet with how chapter 3 is slowly coming together. Hopefully, the characterization isn't too far off. Need to give the game another go for the other lifepaths.
Something fun and me toying with ideas as I eternally do.
For those noticing the tag, yes that says Corpo V Trio. A fun idea with a friend. Just toying with how many side missions we could make "canon" with the time constraints of the Relic malfunctions and some things. Older V does some things and the younger Vs do the others.
Varsha Xavia Joshi-Blackbourne - She's the "Older V"
Vale "Višnja" Moon and Vân "Vargus" Moon - They're the twin "Younger V"
Goro's brows furrowed, knitting tightly together as he scrolled through his phone, searching for the "note" app to double-check some information for future endeavors. "››Infernal device…‹‹" He cursed under his breath for the fifth time as his quick fingers accidentally activated another app he did not want. How he missed the phone and the familiar interfaces he once used. With a mere thought, he would have what he wanted instead of aimlessly searching like a toddler.
"Hm?" He felt and heard that familiar ping of an established hidden connection in his modified Internal Agent before seeing an equally familiar icon take over the screen before a button press would transfer it to his internal hud. A portrait of Vargus' face — the right side obscured by stylistic smoke billowing from an elegant cigarette holder held by two fingers. Goro's cyber eyes lit up orange as he looked up and out from his windmill perch. "More targets incoming, I assume?"
It had been a few days since Goro and his unlikely former Corpo compatriots had infiltrated the warehouse where the Arasaka parade floats were being stored and infected the target float with the malware.
Today, he was assisting the twins in a gig they got from Fixer Dakota. More or so, the twins roped him into joining them when they overheard him mumbling about needing more cash so he could procure some more gear before the parade happened after a quick meet-up.
At first, he declined, partially him still being cautious with his fugitive status and then he didn't want to get roped into the possible shenanigans they would be getting into in the Badlands. But the cut they offered — half paper, half digital — made his judgment wain just enough. And it wasn't the first time they had managed to do so.
"Heh, yes'em!" Vargus softly laughed. "Eyes up, Goro. More Wraiths coming in hot. More to dust."
Goro set his phone down on the grating before lifting the Techtronika SPT32 Grad sniper rifle, one the twins let him borrow, from his lap. Military training kicked. Good habits to always have. Magazine check first. Still a fresh one he had swapped to once the first round of their business was done. Black-tipped armor-piercing rounds greeted his eyes. Then the chamber. Loaded, locked, and ready to fire. Repositioning himself, raising his left knee higher than the other before placing his left arm on top of it and nestling the rifle in the crook of his elbow. Lowering his head and raising the scope to his face, he scanned that parched landscape around the Wraith camp they had wiped out 15 minutes earlier.
Towards the southeast, he spotted a massive dust cloud rapidly charging their way.
"Hm." How many this time? His finger gently turned the dial, feeling each subtle click until it reached the infrared vision. "A convoy of ten vehicles from the southeast. Rapidly closing in on our location." He relayed to Vargus.
"Got four more coming from the west." Vargus said. "Oh ho! They ain't happy about losing this catch. Time to zero these fools."
Shots rang out. An explosion followed by the sound of metal grinding and twisting in the distance.
"Mhm." He nodded. He steadied his aim on the lead car. Lining up those crosshairs to the driver's head. "How much time does Višnja still have?"
Another familiar ping rang in Goro's head. This time, he saw the ID appear in the corner of his vision. A sleepy cartoon bat with massive ears and connection cables crisscrossing over it like a spider's web. That portrait was quickly replaced with Višnja's and that concentrated hacker face — scrunched brows and bitten lip — he had come to learn.
"Secured the important data slates and caches, but still digging through this ICE of these kleptoid deckheads." A second caller window opened, showing the inside of the garage she was currently in. It was a pig's sty. Various boxes and containers were strung about, as well as half-eaten, near rotting food. Fresh and dried-up blood stains were splattered across almost every surface. The people of interest were in a nearby bath — with barely a hint of ice floating — with a mass of cables weaving back and forth between them and the nearby servers.
Višnja's fingers rapidly tapped away at a console as her eyes glanced back and forth between the two net runners and the monitor. A low rumble of a growl entered her voice. "Gonks really had to make their rescue harder with some of these daemons they have set up."
"Hm." Goro pulled the trigger twice in quick succession. Two shots rang out. One for the driver, another for the engine block. Seconds later, that silhouette of the driver slumped over the steering wheel. The car took a hard left, careening into another vehicle before the two crashed into a boulder. "Is the option of 'delta-ing', to leave these two overzealous fools to their fate still available?"
"Yeah." Višnja answered. "But…"
"But?"
"We get more eddies if we bring 'em back alive." And extra money was always nice. A second later, she cursed. "Oh, for fuck's sake! What do you mean there's another layer!?"
"Told ya, ya should've asked Varsh to lend over Chroma, batsy." Her brother butted in. "That spunky AI would be done lickity split compared to you, slowpoke."
"Can it, Varg or I'll shut your brain off for a week!"
"Nuh uh, feedback will knock you out, too."
Their squabbling continued into more name-calling. Like most siblings would do.
A soft chuckle left Goro's lips. Though he could find the young ones' conversations grating at times, he did enjoy the sibling squabbles they would get into from time to time. Something refreshing for the pressing times. It reminded him of childhood friends. And to think he was slowly considering the two to be entering that territory.
"Think you two kids can save your sibling 'love' for 'nother time?" Johnny's voice joined the call. "Gonna get flatlined with all the distractions."
The twins; squabbling stopped like a bullet drop. "Shut it, Johnny." They spoke in unison.
A snort slipped from Goro's lips. How that construct could make everyone laser focus to shut him up. It was strange hearing the voice of that dead man when they linked their Agents like this.
It was strangely alluring, as a few times he couldn't help but pick at the "samurai's" brain when they all would meet to discuss future plants. More often, Goro would make disparaging comments due to the terrorist's vexing, often vulgar comments. Loose lips and barely a filter Silverhand had. But it was also a constant reminder of that every pressing time limit. Varsha's mind would be overwritten by the construct's or outright killed from the information they receiving from Hellman. Then the potential brain-damaging feedback the twins were receiving the longer they had their neural oscillation synchronizer linked to Varsha's systems.
Each Relic malfunction was bringing all of them closer to the grave.
Goro fired several more shots, causing four more cars to crash, but the others, looked like they had reinforced windshields and hoods. "Hm." He grumbled, tugging on his collar. He would have to deal with them once they arrived. His free hand went down and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his sweat-soaked shirt.
"››Blasted heat.‹‹" Muttering, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Update on our situation. Four vehicles are closing in on your position, Višnja. Mere seconds away. The other vehicles are disabled, but some of their occupants still live. Those that can walk and wield weapons are making their way here on foot."
"I'll engage them." Vargus said. "Deal with the others and want to see what my new spine can do. Doc Roth let's see how good your daughter's work is."
"Hey, didn' V tell you to be careful with that new Sandy of yours with the whole 'potentially catastrophic' feedback from you and ya sis' synchro horn things?" Johnny interjected. Though he usually sounded dismissive, this time he sounded genuinely concerned.
"Doc Roth, Mithra, Višnja, and I fixed up some limiters and warnings. We good." Vargus said, confidently. "Goro, you can provide me support, but focus on those stragglers."
"Affirmative." Goro responded. Pulling away from his rifle for a moment, his eyes darted over to the windmill Vargus had made his perch.
Eyes zooming in, he saw him holstering his rifle on his back before pulling out a knife and revolver. The next second, he jumped over the railing and landed on the ground below with a hard thud. The fabric of his pants flared out, most likely in response to the sections of his cyber legs flaring out in response to the impact. Raising himself up, he broke out into a blur of a sprint towards their enemies.
Goro shook his head. "Insane." A bold move to only use those weapons against dangerous odds.
Goro shifted his focus back to the vehicles he had disabled earlier and made quick work of the ones pulling themselves out of the wreckage and the others moving on foot towards the camp.
"Hot damn! They don't know what hit 'em!" Johnny exclaimed.
With them taken care of, Goro shifted his focus over to where Vargus was once he heard Silverhand's excitement. The construct was right. He barely had to provide support for the cocky edgerunner. Even with partially reactivated(jailbroken) cyberware, his mind could barely process the speeds Vargus was moving at. Strategically activating his Sandevistan in short bursts, Vargus was a blur dancing across the battleground. One second he was plunging his blade handle deep into the neck of a startled Wraith.
Next, like a flickering flame, he appeared behind each individual in another group, placing the barrel of his revolver to their heads mouthing "bang" as he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, as he quickly moved on to sink his blade into the gut of one with a machete that tried to sneak up on him.
BANG BANG BANG BANG
Goro heard the delayed shots. Blood, brain, and bones flew. The bodies dropped. Vargus was wearing a cheshire grin that grew wider as he repeated the cycle of violence against the rest.
The engagement barely lasted for a few more minutes before the desert grew quiet once more.
"Whoo! Mithra's got miracle hands. That is ex-hil-arating." Vargus was pulling his knife free from the last Wraith, having to give it a firm pull with how deep he buried it in their skull. Blade free, he wiped the blood and brain matter against the dead's shirt before gently sliding the blade against his black fingernails. A few ribbons of the polish rolled up against the wicked sharp edge. "Hun'dred miles better than my old chrome spine."
"Don' let it get to your head, kid." Johnny said.
Feeling an unexpected "heavyweight" dig into his back shoulder blade, Vargus lurched forward. Gritting his teeth, his head snapped around, eyes nearly closed tight in a glare. No one was there. To the visible eye, that was. "Oh? Gonna be a killjoy now? Thought you liked being gung ho? A little reckless?"
"The construct is right." Goro said, agreeing with Silverhand. That made Johnny laugh with surprise. "One should not lose oneself to the dangers of bloodlust in the heat of battle. Keep your senses sharp."
"The ronin and terrorist agreeing? Hell's getting colder…" Vargus grumbled.
There was probably a smirk on Johnny's face, even more so with Goro agreeing with him. "Kinda am in a kill joy mood 'n' making sure you ain't going cyberpsycho."
"I ain't hexed. Ain't that chromed." He rolled his eyes. He took a step forward, letting Johnny "fall" before rolling his shoulder. "No plans to be, ever."
Johnny made a halfhearted "aaaaaah" and "oof".
Goro continued to scan the landscape.
The desert was still clear. No reinforcements in sight.
An excited exclamation from Višnja. "Finally!" She was beaming from ear to ear. "Cracked the ICE. Both are free. Applying the coolant since their temps are high. Get the truck, bro!"
"On it." Vargus replied. He was off.
Hearing that, Goro began to gather all his gear before leaving his windmill perch. "Coming to assist."
Once Vargus brought the truck around, they tossed the unconscious netrunners in the back, along with the other items they had come for. Before leaving, they made their way around camp to gather whatever weapons and gear were salvageable from the Wraiths. Just another way to secure some quick eddies unless there was something they wanted to keep for themselves.
The trip to the rendezvous was uneventful. Goro stayed in the truck (though he didn't need to) as Višnja and Vargus did the handoff. The netrunners and items were handed over. In return, they got their eddies and some extra goodies for a job well done.
"Aaaaand your cut, choom." Višnja sang as she entered the passenger seat. Reaching towards the back, she placed three stacks of 10,000 on the middle seat. Then, her eyes glowed blue as well as the lines in her neural oscillation synchronizer implant — the horn — on the right side of her head.
Goro glanced at his phone first. A smile crossed his face as he saw those numbers in his account rise. He then picked up the stacks. Old and new bills glided against his fingers. After a few flicks, the amount matched the band. And it was more than enough for what he needed to buy.
"Thank you two, again for allowing me to join your… gig." His mind still had some trouble comprehending some of the slang of the city.
"No, probs. We have a few more lined up and ain't hurtn' for the cash." She said.
"Actually, have another gig we're about to hit next if you'd like the join?" Vargus offered. "Deals with an annoying Maelstrom branch. They got their hands on something they shouldn't have and the owner wants it back and doesn't really care if half the block hears us. Says it'll get a point across or sum'n'."
Višnja tilted her head back and forth as she giggled. She leaned forward towards Goro, placing the side of her hand to her mouth. "That's code for zero 'em fools to send a message."
"Hm." Another gig? Goro wasn't so sure about that. He had his money now and had some final planning he needed to do before the big day. Besides, he felt like he had been out long enough, though nobody had seen him. And the possibility of this next contract could be quite loud and bloody.
"We'll give you a fair cut agaaaaaiiin." Višnja playfully sang. Her wide smile soon turned into a sour sneer as her eyes focused on the empty seat next to Goro. "Oh shut it, Johnny! He deserves the cash and a bit of a break from being on the run."
Goro stifled a chuckle. He wondered what Silverhand had said this time.
He tapped his fingers together. Another fair cut? More eddies were always nice. Maybe he could use the extra money to buy some new clothes?
"Where too?"
The trio's next gig went on into the long night. But was another successful venture, even if they ended up more banged up due to close-quarters combat.
"››Will need to buy some new clothes. Or mend these.‹‹" Goro muttered to himself as he used his sleeve to wipe the blood dripping from his nose.
His shirt was littered with tears and holes as well as blood, synthetic blood, and other questionable viscera painted it. Feeling stray hairs tickling the sides of his face, he took a moment to fix his equally disheveled hair. A hiss slipped from his lips. Something felt off with the joints of his fingers and knuckles as they ran through his hair. There was one metalhead that snuck up on him and Višnja that he had to punch dead in their borged-up face.
Hair slightly neater, he took a look at the offending hand. At a glance, it looked fine, but moving his fingers slightly, there was an odd bend in the digits and the gaps between the knuckles were slightly off.
"››Out of joint.‹‹" A hiss shifted into grunts as he popped his dislocated knuckles back into place before flexing his fingers several times. "Ah… and may need to pay Viktor a visit to make sure there is no damage. Or maybe Dr. Rothschild, if he has an opening."
He was waiting for the twins. Vargus was gathering up weapons and gear to strip or sell, and Višnja was turning in the gig. Feeling his phone buzz, he brought it out. Another hefty deposit of eddies in his account. Good. Since he didn't know how long he would have to wait, he tried locating that "note" app once again. There were a few fumbles before he finally found it.
Eventually, the twins made it back. Vargus got their spoils of war loaded into the truck before he and his sister started discussing their plans for the night. Višnja gave Goro the other half of his payment.
"Yo, Goro, where do ya need us to drop you off for the night?" Vargus asked, rolling his jaw a few times. The segments to the armor plating that lined his cybernetic jaw and part of his neck flexed open and closed.
"Hm?" He glanced up from his phone. "The same place you picked me up from for the first gig."
"Alright."
"Unless ya wanna grab a drink and bite with us?" Višnja said. "It's a low-key joint. Pretty preem soul-food style grub and breakfast. Waffles and fruit sound real good right now."
Goro raised a brow, inadvertently wrinkling his nose. He had still yet to find anything in Night City that his palette found remotely palatable. Though there were a few places he was growing a soft spot for. Tom's Dinner.
"I think, as you two say, 'I'll pass on that shit.'" Though he would never admit it, around the twins he let that air of sophistication wain and let their "city lingo" infiltrate his speech. "I have preparations I need to make." His eyes winced as his body tensed. A hand went to his stomach. There was an audible rumble coming from his stomach.
"Sure about that, choom?" She grinned. He only glared in return.
"Don't needle the old man." Vargus nudged his sister's arm a few times before roughly tussling her hair, which made her threaten that she'd hack his brain.
The three hopped into the vehicle and started their drive.
Goro fiddled with his phone. The talk about food brought a text conversation from the night they infiltrated the warehouse. A few taps, and he found his conversation with Varsha.
He quickly scrolled up to find their discussion from that night. A dinner offer for real food. A private dinner offer. At her place. The viper's den. And perhaps sex? The stressful circumstances made it tempting and his mind could only imagine what she looked like under that dark emerald dress she often wore. Quite pleasing to the eye. But Varsha didn't seem like that kind of woman.
From his observations, she was the complete opposite, especially when that one 'associate' of hers attempted to court her at every interaction whenever they crossed paths. She ignored every gesture, every word uttered by that silver tongue. Everything was strictly business to her. But there was always the possibility his assumptions were wrong. She was harder to read than most of the Corpos he dealt with during his service to Arasaka.
"Višnja. Vargus." He said as he leaned forward and perched himself between the gap between the driver and passenger seat. "Can you help me decipher this message from Varsha." He moved his phone into their view. "I am not sure I understood her offer."
"Driving." Vargus said.
"I got it." Višnja was about to pluck the phone from his hand but noticed those fingers tightened. Right, trust is still tentative. She read the text.
"Let's see, let's see." She read it over a few times before mumbling Varsha's portion of the text history.
[Varsha: What would you say to a little dinner together? Real food. I know some places that may fit your refined palette and the owners can 'look the other way' for you. If that doesn't work for you, how about my place? I can order some food or cook it myself. Think you could use the company for one night. Perhaps we can get off on a better foot?
It read like Varsha. She was always generous to those she considered friends, or those who stayed on her good side.
She then read Goro's response and Varsha's response to that and held in a snort the best she could. Where was this old man's brain going to misinterpret her offer for food like that?
"What's so funny?" Vargus shot her a few glances.
"››Think the old man thought V was offering sex in exchange for dinner besides not wanting her to go through the trouble of hiding his identity and he has 'no appropriate wear'.‹‹" Višnja slipped over to that machine language she, her brother, and Varsha liked to converse in if they didn't want people listening.
The car jittered for a second. Vargus' grip tightened on the steering wheel to steady it. He bit his tongue to stifle snickers breaking through.
Goro narrowed his eyes, even more so noticing those horns of theirs pulsing softly with color. He had his suspicions about what was shared between the two, but wouldn't press. "So, what do you think?"
"She offered you dinner." Višnja said, pushing his phone back to him.
"And?"
"Just dinner. Nothing else, mate."
"Are you sure?" He reread the texts again, especially his response. "Was she not offering…sex?" He almost didn't want to say it.
"Sex? Hell no!" Vargus laughed. He slapped the steering shelf with each laugh. "Geez mate, and you said we could be fools, ya gonk."
"Are you sure?" He just had to ask again.
"V wasn't doing some tit for tat for dinner and sex, Goro." Višnja shook her head, doing her best to keep her laughs at a minimum. "She's not like that."
He looked at the two before closing his eyes. Shaking his head, those shoulders dropped. He sighed. So he had misinterpreted her message. He felt like such an idiot.
"No hard feelings, Goro." Višnja said. "I can somewhat see how you read it like that. V still needs to work on her people skills."
"Really, don't think Varsh is even interested in sex. Hell, don't think she's wired for it." Vargus said. "Don't think we've ever seen her with somebody since we've known her. Minus anything for an Op."
"She's not. Remember the dollhouse story she told us?" Višnja said, corners of her mouth lifting with a little sticker.
Her brother, in turn, lost his composure, breaking out into a deep laugh as he threw his head back. He was laughing so hard that his eyes glued shut; he had to pull over and wipe the tears from his eyes.
"H-her co-workers, her nosy coworkers wanted to learn about her sex life and instead witnessed a therapy season!" His fist pounded against the steering wheel.
Goro slowly tuned the twins out. He didn't feel like he should be privy to that information. Besides, there were more important matters he needed to handle. How to apologize to Varsha for misinterpreting her offer? Perhaps he should accept it? As an apology? He was unsure. Hearing the sound of snapping fingers in front of his face brought him out of his brooding thoughts.
"Yo, Goro." It was Vargus. Composure regained, he then motioned his thumb to the center seat. "Before I forget, check the cooler next to you. Center seat. Varsh's got a gift for ya."
"Shoot, I forgot about that." Višnja said.
Goro raised a brow. He put away his phone and went to open the cooler. "A gift? Why?"
"Just open it, you'll figure it out."
With the cooler open, Goro spotted several things. A few drinks, a backup handgun, an assortment of boosters, and then a few turquoise bento boxes.
"Those bento boxes are for you." Višnja said.
"Really?" He asked as he picked them up. They had some heft to them. He closed the cooler and placed them on his lap. "Why?"
"Even though you turned down V's offer, she's been feeling sorry for you and your refined palette. Made ya some food. Home cooked and ordered something from a friend's restaurant." She said.
"Her cooking is the best. Real preem, you'll love it." Vargus said.
"Hm…"
Goro cautiously opened the first box. What greeted his eyes was a blanket of white rice, an assortment of vegetables elegantly cut and folded into shapes, and what he could tell was a few small cuts of raw fish with vibrant red meat. Fish. Real or fake? Raising the box to his face, he took in several sniffs. He prepared himself for a questionable, if not repugnant, smell. Eyebrows raised, his eyes lit up. There was nothing but a faint oceanic smell. Perhaps it was real? His stomach growled again. He bit the inside of his cheek.
"Yoooooouuuuuu'll looooove iiiiiiiiiit." Višnja sang again, dragging out every word to a nearly obnoxious degree.
Goro rolled his eyes. He opened the second box. His nose wrinkled not out of disgust but from the strong spices emanating from the second meal. It was nearly overpowering to his senses. There was more rice and next to it looked like reddish-brow curry and what he assumed was chicken or coconut chunks in it. His fingers found the silverware in the lid. Perhaps a taste test wouldn't hurt? And it would silence his stomach for some time. He'd save the fish for later.
With the spoon, he carefully grabbed a portion of each piece of the meal, he finally took a bite of it. His eyes lit up, glimmering with surprise. It was all so flavorful. And the textures all felt right. The rice was light and fluffy. The chicken was firm and juicy, with the coconut only enriching its flavor. And the curry, his mind couldn't describe it, but it was good. Nothing tasted like sawdust and plastic, and the meat wasn't a chalky, stringy mess. He was already going for the second bite.
"The ronin likes it." Višnja said.
"The ronin likes it." Vargus agreed with a laugh.
Despite their Agents being disconnected, he felt a faint tickle in his ear like he could hear Silverhand joining in on their teasing. He ignored them. Best not to fall to their level. It would be foolish. He ate about half of his meal.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. The two dropped him off where they had picked him up earlier that day.
Slipping through the shadows, Goro made his way back to his safe house, not before stopping to buy some replacement clothes and ammunition. Back home, he meticulously laid out his gear and went over his plans. As he did so, he snacked on what was left of the curry meal and took a few bites of the other and was pleasantly surprised it was real fish. Salmon from what he could tell.
As he was winding down for the night, his mind drifted back to the meals and that text conversation with Varsha. He shook his head and sighed.
"I need to apologize for my swift assumptions… and thank her for her generosity, this kindness. I do not deserve it, as I have been more judgmental towards her than the twins." He mumbled his thoughts as his hand reached for his phone. "She deeply cares for those two. How she became complicit in this foolish chaos."
For another hour, before sleep would finally take him, he made several drafts of the potential text he would send her in the morning.