Author's Note:
Hoooooo boy, my sincerest apologies for taking so long with this one! This turned out to be the longest chapter so far, but I really wanted to ensure everything was properly set up for V's crew and their first big job! This story is genuinely quite important to me, so I want to make sure I don't half-ass or rush anything.
Thank you so much for your patience! I absolutely adore every moment that I am writing for this fanfic, and I truly hope you enjoy reading it!
FOURTH_TIMER: 9%
[IMAGE OF A HAND REACHING OUT TO THE SUN DISPLAYED]
CURRENT_STATUS: "Trying So Hard To Be Free"
ENTRY_DATA:
The path forward is set.
You've got iron in your hands, powerful chooms by your side, and perhaps the best lead for a cure that you've ever found. All you've got to do is chase down a military-grade Aerodyne Vehicle in the dead of night, knock it out of the sky while praying you're not discovered by all of Night City airspace, and then survive whatever onslaught Kang Tao operatives bring once they're grounded. Couldn't be easier.
Bust open that cage. It's time to set a bird free.
The sun dipped lower, fading away as it bid farewell to the horizon, signalling the end of the final day of preparation.
V sat on his sleek, dark leather couch, the material cool against his skin, staring listlessly at the kaleidoscope of advertisements scrolling across his apartment's massive flatscreen television. Exaggerated and flashy promotions flickered in rapid succession, but his mind barely registered them. He was far too preoccupied with the meeting that loomed just ahead. It was finally time. His heart pounded in his chest, each thud echoing like a countdown.
To his left, Rogue sat at the opposite end of the couch, an unmistakably large expanse between them. V stole a glance at her, the legendary Queen of the Afterlife, a woman who was still mostly a mystery to him. It was surreal, almost dreamlike, to see her in the familiar, worn confines of his apartment. The mercenary had to constantly remind himself that she was really there, not a hallucination brought on by his frayed nerves and fractured mind.
Rogue's demeanour was unreadable, her face a stoic mask as she gazed at the television, just like the mercenary. She had been the first to arrive at V's apartment, yet they had hardly spoken at all. The moment the elevator doors slid open, she had stepped out with the confidence of someone who had long since stopped asking permission to enter any room.
The ghostly figure of Johnny hovered near the couch, his presence palpable despite his lack of physical form. He stood intimately close to Rogue, pacing back and forth with a restlessness that only seemed to intensify with each passing second. His red-tinted shades were pushed up onto his forehead, exposing his intense gaze as he scrutinised Rogue's face, searching for any hint of what she might be thinking.
Johnny's virtual cigarette smouldered between his fingers, smoke curling lazily around him before dissipating into the air. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he continued his pacing, clearly agitated. V could almost feel the tension radiating from Johnny, sensing that the rockerboy was just as in the dark about Rogue's thoughts as he was.
Johnny finally came to a stop in front of Rogue, his spectral form inches from her, staring her down as if trying to will her thoughts into the open. His frustration simmered just beneath the surface, nearly boiling over, but he held it in check.
She's hard to read, huh?
"What the fuck did that suit promise her…" Johnny grumbled as he heard the mercenary's thoughts. "What would get her fire started more than killing Smasher?"
V could only shrug. Johnny knew the woman infinitely better than the merc did. If even he was at a loss regarding her true motivation, it was likely to remain a secret.
But as V and Johnny silently wrestled with their thoughts, Rogue finally broke the tension, her voice slicing through the air.
"Are you sure you flicked your friends the right address?" her words were low, almost a hiss, laced with a sharp impatience.
V's head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing in surprise at her sudden outburst. But Rogue did not return his gaze; her eyes remained fixed on the screen ahead, unyielding and cold as steel.
"Course I did." V retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. "You know you just showed up early, right?"
Rogue sighed, a sound heavy with annoyance. Patience was clearly not her strong suit, and V could feel the tension rolling off her in waves. The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable, as she continued to stare dead ahead, making it clear she was not in the mood for any small talk.
But V, feeling the pressure of the moment, decided to take a chance. "So, uh, this plan…do you wanna talk about the deets?"
Rogue's response was swift and curt, her tone brooking no argument. "Only once everyone is here. I hate repeating myself. Remember that." The growl in her voice was unmistakable, a warning shot that V was wise enough not to challenge.
Johnny, who had been silently observing the exchange, sprang into action. He shook his head, a faint, wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed toward the kitchen with his robotic arm.
"Get her a drink before she snaps your neck, V." Johnny advised, his tone carrying some newfound amusement, relishing too much in the woman's sharp tongue to remain frustrated.
V muttered something unintelligible under his breath, irritated that he was being reduced to a waiter in his own apartment. Begrudgingly, he pushed himself off the cushions and made his way to the open kitchen, feeling Johnny's phantom presence trailing behind him like a shadow.
The kitchen was a small but organised space. His hands traced over the neat line of bottles on the counter, a collection that consisted of both cheap beer cans mingling with pricier, more refined spirits. He paused as his fingers brushed against a mostly-full bottle of whiskey nestled between the rows. It was a good one, one of the few indulgences he allowed himself when things got a little too heavy.
Deciding it was the best choice, V pulled the whiskey closer, the amber liquid swirling inside as he popped the bottle open with a practised flick of his wrist. As the rich scent of the whiskey filled the air, he grabbed a nearby glass, setting it down with a soft clink. His other hand reached for a can of NiCola, the familiar hiss of carbonation escaping as he cracked it open, but just as he lifted the soda can over the glass of whiskey, Johnny flashed into existence right beside him, perched on the counter.
The rockerboy seemed panicked as he quickly tried to stop the merc.
"What the fuck are you doing, V?" Johnny questioned, revolted by the sight.
Huh? I'm gonna highball it. It's when you add some soda to the—
"I know what it means, dumbass. I've been drinking since before you were an itch in your daddy's ballsack." Johnny snapped at the merc, leaning forward as if he would have slapped the soda can out of his hand if he were capable of doing so. "And Rogue drinks like a fucking adult—none of that highballing or on the rocks shit. Whiskey neat, V. Whiskey neat."
Begrudgingly, V followed Johnny's suggestion, setting the NiCola back down on the counter with a soft clink. He grabbed both the glass of whiskey and the nearly full bottle, cradling them in his hands as he made his way back to the living room.
When he reached the couch, Rogue finally tore her gaze away from the television. Her eyes locked onto the glass of whiskey hovering close to her face, the amber liquid inside catching the dim light of the apartment. V held the drink out to her, his voice steady but carrying a hint of weariness.
"Thirsty?" he asked, offering the whiskey with a small, tired smile.
Rogue did not respond right away. She stared at the shot glass for what felt like an eternity. V could feel the weight of her scrutiny, as if she was still measuring him, trying to decide whether to accept the gesture. He held his breath, waiting.
Finally, she nodded and reached out, her fingers wrapping around the glass. "Yes—and leave the bottle." she added.
V could not help but grin at her response, the tension in his chest loosening just a fraction. He set the bottle of whiskey down on the low table in front of them with care, making sure it was within easy reach for her.
Without hesitation, Rogue threw the shot glass back, the whiskey disappearing down her throat in one swift, confident gulp. There was no grimace, no reaction to the harsh burn of the alcohol—she took it like someone who had done this a thousand times before, someone who was accustomed to drowning her loud thoughts in the strongest of spirits. As the whiskey settled in her stomach, Rogue set the empty shot glass down on the table with a soft clink, her eyes drifting not back to the screen, but finally on V himself.
"Is he here?" Rogue's voice wavered, her concern barely concealed as the words tumbled out.
"Huh?" V met her gaze, his brow furrowed in confusion. It took him a moment to register who she was referring to. "Oh… you mean Johnny?"
"Yes… is he watching us? Listening to every word?"
"Sure is—always." V nodded, his tone casual, though he could sense the tension in her question. "I don't turn him on and off inside my head like a switch, you know that…right? If you don't want him to be here right now—"
"No, no—that's not what I meant." Rogue cut him off, her voice firm as she quickly placed her glass back on the table, the clink of it louder than she intended.
V studied her for a moment, uncertain if she was truly okay with the spectre of Johnny hovering over their conversation. "You sure? 'Cause I heard your, uh, date down at Silver Pixel Cloud… didn't go so well."
Beside him, the flickering image of Johnny turned away, a look of discomfort crossing his face. He shook his head, clearly not wanting to rehash the awkwardness of that evening.
"Leave it, V." Johnny grumbled, his voice low and tinged with irritation. "We don't need to talk about it."
Rogue's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, battling against the poker face she had otherwise solidified. Her icy cold demeanour only ever seemed to falter when the rockerboy of old was involved.
"I'm curious…what exactly did he say happened?" she pressed, choosing to not shy away from the topic, unlike Johnny.
"Uh…well—" V hesitated under the pressure of the piercing glare he was now being subjected to. "...he told me that things were…good…'til they weren't. He said he probably did something wrong—said something you didn't like. He fucked up…and you shot him down."
V could see Johnny in the corner of his eyes, shaking his head again and beginning to slowly walk away, a futile attempt to leave the conversation that he so desperately did not want to hear.
"He didn't do anything wrong."
Johnny came to an abrupt halt, his entire form stiffening as Rogue's whispered words cut through the air. V, who had been bracing for another sharp retort or a deflection, was caught off-guard by the raw pain etched across her face—an expression he had never seen before, not from her.
The rockerboy slowly turned back around, his frown deepening as he stepped closer to the couch. The recognition in his eyes was immediate, despite the years that had passed. The lines of age and experience had marked Rogue's face, but the look she wore now—a blend of regret and sorrow—was still all too familiar to Johnny.
Rogue leaned forward, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the bottle of whiskey. She poured herself another shot with an unsteady grip, the liquid splashing messily into the glass. Without hesitation, she tossed it back, the burn of the alcohol providing her with enough liquid courage to force her next words out.
"I know what he was trying to do, and it was…sweet." she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in her tone was startling, and completely unexpected. "He's not the only one who wishes that it could've worked out…but it never could."
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she repeated it, as if trying to convince herself of the truth. "It never could…"
The words hung heavily in the room, dripping with the weight of unspoken history and missed opportunities. Johnny, for his part, could only watch, a deep sadness clouding his usually defiant gaze. For his friend's sake, V chose to keep pushing.
"Look…I know what Johnny was like. I've lived through his memories like they were my own. He was a liar, a manipulator, a terrorist—a right fucking gonk…putting other people's lives, like yours, at stake just 'cause of his ambitions. It got him killed…and nearly flatlined all of you." V confessed, despite fully aware that Johnny was listening to every word. The deceased rockerboy needed to hear it all. "But he knows that too, now. He knows he was a prick. He wants to change…and he has. If you'd just give him a chance, maybe—"
"I know he's changed."
"...huh?"
"V…asking for your permission to take me out on a date? Sitting by my side to watch a crappy film at a drive-in theatre…and sweet-talking me? That's not Johnny. The Johnny I knew…hell would freeze over before he'd ever act even halfway like a gentleman." Rouge spoke with a strained laugh. "Of course he's changed. You've changed him…and even though he's trapped in someone else's head, I…I like what he's turning into."
The woman paused, her hand lingering over the empty glass as if she might pour yet another shot, but she did not. Instead, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, recollecting her thoughts. When she finally did, her voice was soft, laden with inner agony.
"It's not Johnny." she began, her tone almost reluctant, as though admitting this was a betrayal of sorts. "It's me. Too much time has passed…things have changed. This isn't twenty-twenty three anymore, V. He doesn't know what's in my life now. Hell, he couldn't even begin to imagine…"
V remained silent, taken aback by her uncharacteristic openness. This was not the hardened fixer who ruled the Afterlife with an iron will—this was a woman wrestling with ghosts and the weight of her own choices. Even Johnny, who had been pacing restlessly while studying the woman's face, now stayed in place, his face a mask of confusion. Even he had never seen her vulnerable to such a degree. It unnerved him.
"The hell's she talking about?" Johnny muttered, almost to himself, wishing more than ever that he could be seen and heard by her. He hated not knowing what was going on in her mind, hated that he was reduced to a bystander in this moment. There was suddenly something in her voice, something that did not fit with the Rogue he knew—something new, something he could not quite grasp.
Rogue finally opened her eyes again. "He doesn't know what's in my life anymore…" she repeated, the words coming out slowly. "He couldn't understand what I…what I have to protect."
She stopped, the next words seemingly caught in her throat. V could see the battle raging within her, the desire to confide clashing with the instinct to protect whatever it was she was on the verge of revealing.
Pushing against her fears, Rogue opened her mouth to continue, her hand unconsciously gripping the edge of the table for support. "There's…something, something I never told him. The truth is…I have—"
But before she could finish, the low rumble and mechanical click of the apartment elevator echoed through the room, the sound sharp and jarring in the heavy silence. The interruption was like a bucket of cold water, and Rogue's expression immediately shifted. The vulnerability was immediately gone, replaced by the guarded, steely resolve that V had come to expect from her.
The moment had slipped right between their fingers.
As the shutters of the elevator clanked open, the metallic sound echoed through the room, signalling the arrival of V's friends, at long last. The noise was loud, intrusive, and had ended their chance at hearing Rouge's confession.
Johnny watched hatefully as the doors slid apart, revealing the figures stepping out. His fists clenched, the cigarette in his mouth burning away forgotten, as the frustration that had been building inside him finally boiled over. He turned away from the elevator, unable to stand the sight of anyone else, and growled through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with venomous frustration.
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
Things were not off to a good start.
V stood frozen for a moment, staring at the scene unfolding inside the apartment's elevator. His heart, already pounding from Rogue's unexpected vulnerability moments before, now sank in embarrassment as he took in the chaos.
There they were—Judy, Panam, and River—his trusted friends, all standing awkwardly together. His closest companions were finally meeting each other for the first time.
Yet, instead of the camaraderie he had hoped for, the air was thick with hostility.
Panam stood front and centre, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she glared daggers at River.
Her voice, sharp and biting, carried over the sound of the elevator's mechanical hum. "The fuck do you think you are?! You don't get to treat me like a child! Apologise before you get a boot up your ass!" she spat, clearly offended, her chest heaving as she barely contained her frustration.
River, meanwhile, remained completely unbothered, his muscular frame leaning casually against the wall of the elevator. His arms were folded over his chest, his gaze level and calm as if Panam's outburst were little more than background noise. "I'll stop treating you like a child when you stop screaming like one." he replied flatly, his tone calm but carrying the weight of quiet authority.
Judy stood in the corner, her back mostly turned to the scene, arms slack at her sides. Her eyes were closed, as if silently wishing to be anywhere else but in the elevator, clearly uninterested in the argument between the two.
With an exasperated sigh, she turned her head slightly toward V and, without opening her eyes, muttered with dry sarcasm, "Kill me…" before rolling her eyes at the absurdity of it all.
V's embarrassment surged as Rogue sat on the couch, watching the scene unfold with raised eyebrows and a barely concealed smirk. Her silence only amplified the awkwardness as she observed the dysfunctional trio that had arrived.
"Fucking great…" V muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
From the moment the merc had committed to assembling his friends for the Kang Tao job, he had rehearsed this very meeting countless times in his head. He had imagined different scenarios, envisioned various outcomes—some smooth, others tense, but all manageable. Yet, despite all the mental energy he had invested, never had he predicted that things would unravel this quickly and terribly, before the meeting had even officially begun.
As the bickering escalated inside the cramped elevator, V let out a low grumble, peeling himself reluctantly off the couch.
"Uh…guys?" V ventured, stepping forward and trying to intervene before things escalated any further. "Can we maybe…not try kill each other in my apartment?"
Panam was the first to storm out, her boots slamming onto the floor as she charged into the living room, her eyes blazing with fury. She threw a thumb back at the elevator, gesturing wildly toward the man behind her. "Do you know what this fucking guy is?!"
The merc sighed. "You're gonna say that he's a badg—"
"A badge! A fucking badge, V!"
"Yeah, I know." V rubbed his temples, the serenity of the atmosphere already shattered completely by the nomad's familiarly dangerous temper.
"You knew?" she spat, her voice rising. "And you still brought him here? What the hell were you thinking?!"
River, arms still folded, stepped out of the elevator behind her, calm as ever. He shrugged, barely fazed by Panam's outburst. "Ex-badge." he corrected with an even tone, his eyes meeting hers coolly. "I…left the force."
Panam scowled, clearly not convinced, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and staring daggers at River, who held his ground without flinching. "And I'm supposed to just believe that?"
V sighed again, already feeling the weight of the coming conversation settling in. He caught sight of Judy slipping out of the elevator without a word, her expression as disinterested as it had been earlier. She made a beeline straight for his kitchen, eyes scanning his stash of alcohol like she knew exactly what she was looking for.
V's attention darted back to Panam, who was still fuming, pacing back and forth in disbelief. River stood motionless, watching her, assessing her just as much as she was obviously assessing him. Meanwhile, the faint clinking of bottles could be heard from the kitchen as Judy started helping herself to his whiskey.
With a deep breath, V braced himself. "Look—I get that you don't trust him yet. But you trust me, right? I'm telling you—he ain't lying. NCPD's behind him. We're chooms now…and he's gonna help us. I promise." He shot a quick glance at River, who simply gave a small nod of agreement.
"Yeah…I trust you. That doesn't mean I'm gonna be happy betting my life on a pig." Panam countered, her anger not quite subsiding yet. She paused for a moment only to point a declarative finger at the gruff detective, speaking with unhidden sarcasm and vitriol. "Sorry—ex-pig."
Judy, already taking a sip of whiskey straight from a bottle, smiled bitterly from the kitchen. "We're off to a great start, huh?" she provided her commentary, glancing at V as if asking why he thought this group would ever work.
V ignored her snide remark, still focused on defusing the growing tension. He stretched out his arms, ushering them all toward the living room. "Let's…just all take a seat, alright?"
River started moving further away from the elevator, finally stepping fully into the apartment. That's when V caught sight of something—or rather, someone—that had been lurking at the very back of the elevator, perfectly obscured by River's broad frame. A scrawny figure, hunched and awkward, suddenly emerged, revealing itself with an almost comedic reluctance.
It was Kaito—the punk kid V had seen hanging around River before, helping him with his dubious side business. Just the sight of the child made V's stomach drop.
Kaito stepped out of the elevator, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. He shot V a lopsided grin, his awkward presence made even more noticeable by the fact that no one had realised he was there. "Yo, V! Guess I'm crashing the party."
V's eyes narrowed, his irritation palpable. He refused to even grace the annoying kid with a response. Instead, his gaze shifted sharply to River, disbelief etched into his expression. Panam and Judy both stared at Kaito in surprise. Judy blinked in disbelief while Panam crossed her arms, as they both likely wondered whether the situation could get any more bizarre.
The scrawny kid scratched the back of his head, looking around nervously as if suddenly learning he was not exactly a welcome guest. "Uh…sorry. River said it'd be alright if I…came along." he mumbled, his grin still lingering.
V gave Kaito a curt, dismissive nod before turning his attention back to River, shooting him a glare. "River, can I talk to you for a sec?" V muttered under his breath, motioning for the ex-cop to follow him to a quieter corner of the room.
River did not react right away, remaining composed despite the oddity of the situation. He took a moment to glance back at Kaito, who was awkwardly shuffling his feet.
"V, listen…" River began, his voice low and steady. "Kaito goes almost everywhere with me these days."
V frowned, his irritation not quite fading. "Doesn't explain why you brought him here."
"He's got nowhere else to go." River admitted, folding his arms. "Kid's an orphan. Homeless. He doesn't even run with the Tyger Claws anymore. You know what that means out here."
V blinked, taken aback by the unexpected explanation. "Wait—he's living with you?"
River's face softened, but there was still an edge of steel in his gaze. "No. I can't afford my own place, so…I've been staying with Joss and the kids. I can't let her know what's going on, so…kid's been living out of my car."
V could not help but grimace. Growing up in Heywood, he knew just how brutal life could be for an orphan on the streets. Most kids in Kaito's situation did not make it long without a crew or gang to back them up—or worse, they did find a crew and got used up in all the worst ways. For some, the roof of a car was better than the blood-soaked concrete they would have to sleep on otherwise.
Some kids would kill for that kind of shelter.
V groaned, the tension easing from his shoulders. "So he wants to hang around here?"
River nodded. "Yeah. Look, I get it. Bringing him here wasn't the plan, and I'm sorry."
V rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of it all settling in. He was not happy about it, but was willing to be lenient if it meant getting the meeting started proper. "Don't apologise, this ain't that bad…as long as you don't expect me to take a kid on for the job."
The tension in River's face eased. "No, don't worry. He's not part of the job at all. Just came along because…well, like I said, he goes where I go. But I'll keep him in check, V. If the kid causes any problems, I'll handle it personally. You have my word."
V glanced over at Kaito again, watching as the kid mindlessly fiddled with his jacket zipper, trying his best to seem busy despite clearly being aware that he was the person they were whispering about.
"Alright." V relented after a pause. "I trust you, River. Just…keep him out of the way, okay?"
"I will. Appreciate it, V."
Judy and River moved toward the worn, but inviting couch, settling themselves into place.
Across the room, Panam paced restlessly. Her earlier frustration had not completely burned off, but it had dulled into something else. V could see the tension draining from her shoulders, as curiosity gradually overtook her simmering anger. Panam's movements slowed as she took in her surroundings, her gaze tracing the room's details.
The punching bag hanging in the corner briefly caught her eye, and she ran a hand over it as if imagining the force she could put behind a punch. Then, without a word, she waded over to the vintage arcade machine. Her fingers hesitated above the controls before she pressed a button, the screen blinking to life with a flicker of neon colours. A brief smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but she quickly moved on, her attention also drawn to the massive pool table dominating the space.
"Wow…" Panam murmured under her breath, marvelling at its polished surface. She leaned in, running her fingers over the smooth edges, visibly impressed.
Her frustration was already turning into just a memory as she revelled in being inside V's apartment for the very first time. -
Without hesitation, Panam darted toward the winding stairs that led to the upper floor. Her steps were quick, each one fueled by a new wave of energy as she ascended. V watched her, feeling an odd sense of amusement at how swiftly her mood could flip. She was already reaching the top, her attention now drawn to the large wardrobe V had installed not long ago, a bulky piece of furniture nestled near the bed.
Panam swung open the doors and began rummaging through it, her hands rifling through jackets and shirts with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for a treasure hunt. V stood below, eyes narrowing slightly as he worried that River was ultimately right about her. The woman inevitably behaved like a child whenever she was excited, both positively and negatively.
She did not even ask for permission before digging through his stuff. It was as if the idea of boundaries had simply vanished in her wonder.
"Jackets, jackets, and even more jackets?" Panam's voice echoed down from the upper floor, tinged with a playful curiosity. "What the heck is with this collection, V?"
V shook his head, trying to keep a neutral tone as he called out, "Panam, come on. The meeting's starting. Get back down here."
There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of more shuffling fabric. "I can still hear you just fine!" Panam called back, her voice laced with stubbornness.
V crossed his arms, glancing over at Judy and River who exchanged knowing looks. Panam was clearly not going to sit down for the meeting, and V was not entirely sure whether to laugh or scold her. He could still hear the rustle of clothes as she continued her impromptu exploration, completely absorbed in her task.
With a soft sigh, V allowed a small smile to escape, realising that maybe it was better to let Panam have her moment. "Alright, Rogue…do you wanna kick us off?"
Rogue, sitting with a steely presence on the couch, pushed herself upright. She reached into the pocket of her jacket, producing a small, sleek metal case that gleamed beautifully. With a flick of her wrist, she snapped it open, revealing a set of data-chips arranged in perfect alignment.
One by one, Rogue handed each chip, her eyes hard as steel as she locked gazes with each member of the crew, measuring them. This was business now , and Rogue was not the type to tolerate anything less than total commitment.
"Insert them into your personal slots." she commanded.
Without a word, the group complied. V reached behind his neck, feeling for the port, and slid the chip in with a soft click. A moment later, his vision flickered as data streamed into his optics, overlaying a detailed map of the Southern Desert, schematics of Kang Tao's AV, and mission specs. The plan—Rogue's plan—was beginning to unfold right before his eyes.
River was calm and steady, as always, his large frame unflinching as the chip's information settled in. Judy, still nursing her drink, was the very last to insert hers, though she did so with a quiet sigh, her eyes narrowing as the weight of the operation finally began to sink in. Kaito, the otherwise rowdy child, remained obediently silent, gazing at the entire crew from a standing distance with burning fascination.
Rogue nodded to herself. Once she was sure the chips were in place and the team had absorbed the initial influx of data, she crossed her arms and sharpened her gaze.
"Listen closely." she said, her tone unshakably firm. "Because I'm only going to explain all of this once. Here's the plan..."
The interior of the Aerodyne Vehicle was dimly lit, shadows flickering across the reinforced walls as the hum of the engines reverberated through the metal frame.
Songbird sat stiffly in her seat, her heart hammering inside of her chest. The air inside the cabin felt thick, oppressive, weighed down by the sterile smell of synthetic leather and industrial plastic. Around her, Kang Tao operatives moved with cold efficiency, their faces hidden behind tinted visors and tactical masks. They worked in complete silence, strapping her tightly into her seat, pulling the belts so taut across her chest and shoulders that she could feel the sharp pinch of them digging into her skin. All of the buckles clicked into place with a hollow metallic clink, the sound eerily final.
Songbird did not recognize any of them—strangers with no names, no familiarity, just faceless tools carrying out their orders. Their movements were quick, almost mechanical, as if all of this was routine for them. She shifted in her seat as quietly as she could, her body protesting against the sharp tightness of the straps that pinned her in place. Each belt dug into her shoulders and waist, the cold metal buckle pressing painfully against her stomach. She winced but did not dare make a sound—not wanting to draw attention. With a deep breath, she attempted to arch her back just slightly, hoping for the smallest reprieve from the relentless tension, but the belts were utterly unforgiving.
She bit down on her lip, suppressing the growing discomfort, and cast a glance out of the small, narrow window opposite her. Through the thick glass, she could see the sprawling skyline of Night City, bathed in the deep, dying orange glow of the setting sun. The towering skyscrapers—glass and steel giants—were illuminated by the last remnants of daylight, their shadows growing longer and darker as the day lurched to its end. Her chest tightened, but not from the seat belts this time.
Still no one had told her where they were taking her. No briefing, no destination. Just orders to get into the AV, and that was all. The megacorporation was never going to inform her about her fate. By her own predictions, Songbird imagined Kang Tao would move her—their precious little asset—from state to state within the NUSA for all of their netrunning needs, before transporting her out of the country entirely.
The door to the AV slid open with a low hiss, and the metallic hum of the vehicle was momentarily drowned out by the infectious sounds of the city. Songbird barely lifted her head, her eyes still trained on the faint skyline, but she caught sight of movement in her peripheral vision.
Lina stepped in, moving with brisk efficiency as she scanned the vehicle's circuitry, her fingers lightly brushing over panels and displays, ensuring everything was in working order. It was the one operative that Songbird recognised, and the only one that had treated her with any semblance of kindness.
The short statured woman paused near the entrance, her gaze flicking over the seated pilots, then ducked into the cramped section of the vehicle where Songbird was secured.
As Lina approached, her eyes immediately went to the seat straps, and a frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. Without a word, she stepped closer and crouched down beside Songbird, her fingers working swiftly at the buckles.
"These are way too tight…those fucking gonks…" Lina muttered under her breath, her tone low but tinged with frustration. She expertly loosened the straps, careful not to draw too much attention to the fact that she was doing so. The pressure on Songbird's chest and shoulders gradually eased, finally allowing her to properly take deep breaths again.
Songbird released a quiet sigh of relief, her eyes meeting Lina's, and for the briefest moment, a flicker of gratitude stirred within her, even amidst the suffocating weight of her captivity.
"Thank you…Lina." Songbird whispered, her voice quiet and pitifully weak, unsure if Lina even heard her.
But Lina gave a curt nod, standing up straight as she adjusted the final strap. "Don't mention it."
The woman took a step back after loosening the straps, casting a quick glance at the other operatives outside the small compartment, their backs turned as they prepared for departure, then turned her attention back to Songbird, a faint pain etched on her face as she left the netrunner behind in the compartment and placed her hand firmly on a panel on the other side.
Lina took a step back, her fingers hesitating over the panel for a split second, her eyes softening with a glimmer of guilt as she looked back at Songbird. With a heavy sigh, she entered a code into the panel, activating the doors. They began to slide shut, the mechanical whirring filling the tense silence. Through the narrowing gap, their eyes met one last time, the flicker of sympathy in Lina's gaze unmistakable. Songbird saw it—the reluctance, the pain of someone forced to follow orders they had long since stopped believing in.
And then, the gap disappeared. The doors sealed with a final, resounding thud, plunging Songbird into a stifling, suffocating darkness. She was left utterly alone, the oppressive stillness of the compartment wrapping around her like a vice. It was the first occasion in a long time that she had finally been granted solitude, no longer watched from every angle by operatives, and still it had only been gifted while restrained and left utterly in the dark.
And the silence was maddening.
Her ears buzzed in the absence of sound, the low hum ringing louder with each passing second. The sheer stillness of the compartment pressed down on her, the kind of silence that just felt wrong, like the entire universe itself had ceased its motion. She blinked rapidly, hoping, even foolishly, that her eyes might adjust to the oppressive blackness, that maybe a faint outline, a sliver of light, or even a shadow would reveal itself. But with almost every single one of her implants disabled preemptively for the flight, it was hopeless. No matter how hard she tried to focus, there was nothing—only a relentless void stretching in every direction.
She shifted uncomfortably, the tight straps still holding her firmly in place even after they had been loosened. Leaning back into the seat, Songbird closed her eyes, not that it made any kind of difference. The dark surrounded her whether they were open or shut. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to focus on the slow rise and fall of her own chest, trying to anchor her racing thoughts.
In the silence, her heartbeat became her only companion. Slow, rhythmic, a reminder that she was still alive. Still here.
But it did not remain her only companion for long.
In the silence, something suddenly shifted—a familiar sensation pricking at the edges of her consciousness. Before she could fully process it, a faint buzz rippled through her neural interface. Her Internal Agent, still active thanks to her own netrunning efforts, was receiving a signal. A caller. She stared wide-eyed into the darkness, surprised, her mind racing.
For a moment, she hesitated, unsure whether to accept. But as the call wormed its way through her neural impulses, an image flickered into existence within her optics. A holographic projection—ghostly yet vivid—of a man dressed in a sleek, tailored suit appeared, hovering in her vision. His eyes glowed an eerie, electric blue, their gaze piercing even through the holographic filter.
Songbird's pulse quickened, recognition quickly setting in. She knew that face.
It was her most important business partner.
Despite the shock, she instinctively accepted the holocall. The darkness around her seemed to recede, replaced momentarily by the crisp, calculated presence of the man she knew too well. He smiled thinly, almost as if he had been expecting this call an eternity in advance.
"Hello, Songbird." he greeted, his voice smooth as velvet. "I see you're able to receive calls again. Excellent work."
Despite the cold, the small space, and the fear that had been gnawing at her, Songbird felt a flicker of relief. His voice, smooth and practised, managed to calm her nerves surprisingly well. Still, she kept her tone flat, unwilling to betray too much. "Mr. Blue Eyes…"
His holographic figure tilted its head slightly, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Kang Tao is moving faster than we anticipated." he remarked, his glowing eyes cutting through the virtual space. "The AV's almost ready for takeoff. Quite the efficient bunch, aren't they?"
Songbird swallowed the anxiety rising in her throat. "And...what about V? Have you contacted him? He's supposed to intercept me—like we agreed."
Mr. Blue Eyes' expression did not waver. His calm, almost amused demeanour somehow made her feel both reassured and unsettled at once. "Oh, I've already had a rather lovely conversation with your mercenary." he said with cool confidence. "He's agreed to help. Everything is in hand, don't you worry."
Though he spoke as though the plan was foolproof, Songbird could not shake the gnawing doubt from her chest. The AV was prepped and ready, the operatives outside were just waiting for their final signal to depart. She was on the edge of being flown out of Night City, and her fate rested in the hands of a merc she had never even met before.
"What was he like? Do you trust him…to get this done?" she asked, her voice steady despite the knot of fear tightening in her chest.
Mr. Blue Eyes chuckled softly, his holographic form shimmering with the motion. "Trust is a luxury, Songbird. But V? V is motivated. And motivation is far more reliable than trust."
Then, the man's chuckle faded into a brief pause, his glowing eyes flicking off to the side. His holographic form turned slightly, as if something—or someone—had drawn his attention. Songbird watched closely, her breath held as the faintest murmur of a voice slipped through the connection, too soft to make out. She could not make out a single word.
The hologram shifted back toward her, Mr. Blue Eyes' expression returning to its usual, composed calm. Whatever the interruption had been, he moved past it as if it had never happened.
"Sorry about that." he said smoothly, his sharp gaze locking back onto hers. "As I was saying, V has already assembled a highly capable team. They're working through the details as we speak, putting together a plan to intercept your AV and extract you before you leave Night City airspace, likely somewhere in the Southern Desert."
Songbird's pulse quickened, but not in relief. It was all moving so fast, the cold certainty of her situation pressing in on her. She had placed everything in V's hands—his team, his ability to make the impossible happen. Managing to actually slip out of Kang Tao's ironclad grasp still felt like a fantasy to her.
She straightened in her seat as much as the straps would allow. "Are you sure?" she pressed, her voice strained with controlled desperation. "If this goes wrong…"
"It won't go wrong." Mr. Blue Eyes' voice was like a blade, cutting through her spiralling thoughts. His expression remained infuriatingly calm, as if her fear meant nothing in the grander scheme of things. "V understands the stakes. He knows what failure means—for both of you. That man, if I may be frank with you, is like a force of nature. I'm sure you've managed to do your own research on him, in between Kang Tao's oddjobs. Do you know what his success rate is with his clients?"
Songbird nodded slowly. "Ninety-nine percent…"
"Indeed. Ninety-nine." Mr. Blue Eyes repeated, his voice rich with quiet satisfaction. "He's only ever failed one job—the very one that has now led him to you. And you will deliver, won't you?"
"I will." she assured him, her voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart. "As long as V gets me out of here, I'll cure him. I know how to fix it—how to fix him."
Mr. Blue Eyes' gaze remained sharp, and though he did not speak, the weight of his scrutiny pressed down on her. Songbird swallowed, continuing quickly before he could question further. "And I'll send you every last shred of data I've collected. I promise. Everything I've acquired over these years…you and Night Corp can do whatever you want with it."
For a moment, the silence between them deepened, the hum of the AV's systems the only sound breaking through the void. Songbird watched the man's face closely, searching for a flicker of excitement or anticipation, something to reflect the incredible offer she was making. The library of secrets she had amassed over her netrunning career was utterly vast, unrivalled, even—classified project files, corporate data, and sensitive intel that could devastate every other megacorporation in all of Night City.
Yet, there was nothing. His expression did not change, his glowing blue eyes betraying no eagerness, no greed. He was not nearly as excited as he should have been. The realisation sank in slowly for her as she wondered why he suddenly seemed so disinterested. This was the entire compensation he had asked for—the whole deal. And yet now, it was as if it meant nothing to him.
She suppressed the urge to ask, biting down on her curiosity. She could not risk the deal falling apart, not now, not when she was this close to securing her freedom.
Mr. Blue Eyes leaned slightly forward, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts once more. "Good. Then we both understand each other." His lips curved into a faint smile, though it did not quite reach his eyes. "Rest easy, Songbird. The next time we speak…you'll be a free woman."
The holocall flickered out before she could respond, leaving her once again in the oppressive silence of the AV. Songbird blinked, her breath catching in her throat.
As the silence crept back in and the darkness loomed heavier around her, that creeping unease refused to let go. Something about Mr. Blue Eyes' calmness, his almost dismissive reaction to her offer, gnawed at her. There was something else at play—something bigger.
But whatever it was, she would have to worry about it after she was free.
With a deep breath, she leaned back against the seat, her thoughts racing as the AV began to rumble beneath her, the engines beginning to fully warm up.
It was time for takeoff.
Rogue's voice cut sharply through the tension-laden air as she neared the end of her briefing, her gaze unwavering as she paced the living room like a commander, a tactical chip still between her fingers. "The Satwave Power Plant—decommissioned, sure, but its systems are still operational. We reroute power, overload the capacitors, and send a powerful EMP pulse right into the airspace above Night City. That'll be our window to take down the AV."
V sat forward on the couch, hands clasped, his mind racing with the intricacies of the plan. Judy, perched on the armrest beside him, crossed her arms, silently absorbing the details. River leaned against the wall, his face calm, yet his eyes sharp and focused on Rogue's every word. Panam, despite her earlier outburst, was uncharacteristically quiet, though the sound of rummaging upstairs could be heard. She had not stopped rifling through V's wardrobe, even as Rogue had laid out the plan.
"The convoy will only be in the affected range for…perhaps a minute." Rogue continued, glancing around the room to make sure everyone was still following. "So we'll have to time it perfectly. There's no margin for error here. Once the EMP pulse goes off, we'll have to move fast to secure the target before any reinforcements arrive. You'll need to be on the ground, ready to extract Songbird the moment the AV drops."
Kaito, his ever-present shark-like grin plastered across his face, leaned forward onto the couch from behind. "Nah, that's not gonna work." he said, nonchalantly, as if stating the obvious.
River immediately shot him a look, his voice low but firm. "Kaito, not now. Stay out of this."
But Rogue, ever the pragmatist, raised a hand to River. "Let him speak." She turned her steely gaze toward Kaito. "Go on, kid. If you've got something to say, say it."
Kaito's grin only widened, clearly relishing the moment. He shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking toward the diagram Rogue had projected, detailing the power plant and the trajectory of the AV. "With how Kang Tao's AVs are built, even an EMP blast that size probably won't be enough to fully ground the AV. At best all you'll do is hit 'em with some turbulence, those things are built tough."
The room fell silent. V exchanged a quick glance with River, who shook his head in exasperation. Rogue's expression did not change; if anything, she seemed intrigued, like someone who had just been told a puzzle was missing a piece. Slowly, she turned to Judy, the group's Techie.
"Is he right?" she asked.
Judy, who had been quiet during Kaito's interjection, furrowed her brow. She stared intensely at the holographic projects of data on the vehicle, her arms crossed as she mulled over the kid's words. Her eyes flickering with a sharp intuition, she gave a slow nod. "Kid's got a point. The EMP will do damage—sure, it'll knock out comms, mess with navigation, maybe even fry some important systems…but it might not be enough to knock it out of the sky. I'd give it a fifty-fifty chance."
Rogue's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze unwavering as she absorbed the new information. "Terrible odds—we're not taking them."
Judy sighed, staring at the holographic image of their boarded target. "Yeah…and we obviously can't shoot it out of the sky—not if we want this girl alive."
Kaito chimed in again with his unrestrained enthusiasm. "Well, if you can't shoot it down, why not fry it mid-air? I mean, if the power plant's EMP can't do it alone, what about multiple synchronised pulses?"
River shot the kid a sharp glance, clearly unimpressed by the constant interruptions. "Kaito—"
But Kaito straightened up, unwilling to be shut down. "Just hear me out! The plant's EMP might not pack enough juice, but if you use a few mobile EMP generators alongside it—drones, specifically—you could totally nail it. We get some drones close enough to the AV while the power plant sends out the main pulse. Combine them all…and boom! Nothing can stay in the sky after all that!"
Judy blinked in disbelief, staring at Kaito like she had just heard a street rat recite the theory of relativity. "What the…who is this kid?"
Ignoring her comment, Rogue's eyes narrowed as she processed the suggestion. "Hm. Synchronised pulses…from multiple sources. I'll admit, the logic tracks…but where can we get the correct drones for that? On such short notice…I've only got access to standard-grade ones, and that's being generous."
From upstairs, Panam's voice suddenly rang out. "Hey! We can swing by the Aldecaldos' camp first. We've got a couple of…well, liberated drones stored away there. It's a great spot to start from. We can catch the AV as it heads south. We'll drive northbound, meet it halfway while it's still over the desert. Perfect spot to ground the damn thing."
Judy squinted upward, her lips curled slightly as if caught between disbelief and amusement. "Was she—?"
"What? I told you I was still listening to the plan!"" Panam called out, sounding almost offended. But after a brief silence, a confession followed. "Although...they're probably similar to whatever Rogue's offering. Probably don't specialise in EMPs or anything."
Before the group could fall into a pondering silence again, Judy spoke up with a sigh, her voice steady with confidence. "That's…fine. Just give me…let's say…at least an hour with whatever drones you two can scrounge up. I can mod them into the kind of drones this kid's talking about."
Rogue hesitated, the confident techie a stranger to her, and glanced at V. The merc met her gaze, nodding trustfully as he added. "Yup, I've been to her apartment—seen the kinda things she's built. She can do it."
Rogue's eyes lingered on V for a moment, then she gave a curt nod. "Alright. We have a plan—a better plan. Good."
The room was quiet as everyone took in the finality of her words. River rose from the couch slowly and stood in the corner, his towering frame still as he scanned through the details of the plan one last time, his optics flickering faintly as the data streamed past. He had been mostly quiet for most of the meeting, keeping to himself, but as the plan was set in stone, he turned to V with a furrowed brow.
"V…" River said, his deep voice cutting through the silence, "This woman…this… 'Songbird'. Why is she the target? You told me your life was in danger. Is this job for her sake…or yours?"
It was the question that had been hanging in the air since the beginning, the one no one had dared to ask yet. The question that demanded the truth. V's gaze flashed, an anxiety seeping into his chest. He hesitated, knowing that once he started explaining, there would be no going back. He would have to explain everything to them—the biochip, Johnny Silverhand, the ticking clock inside his head. His friends deserved to know.
But before he could open his mouth, Rogue cut him off, her voice sharp and no-nonsense. "V. You'll have time to spill everything when we get to the Aldecaldos' camp. We've got an hour at least while Judy works on the drones. Save your explanations for then. Right now, we need to move."
V paused for a beat, his mind still turning over the idea of finally telling his friends the full truth. But Rogue was right. Timing was everything, and right now, they did not have much of it.
He nodded, resigned. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. I'll…save it 'til then." he promised, turning to the others. His gaze swept over River, Judy, and Kaito, all waiting for some deeper explanation. "Once we're there, I'll tell you everything. No more secrets."
From upstairs, Panam's voice echoed down again, laced with annoyance. "You'd fucking better. You seriously have some explaining to—"
But then, her voice took on a different tone—confusion, surprise. "What…is this?"
The group downstairs paused, all eyes shifting toward the ceiling as Panam's boots thudded on the floor above.
Judy raised an eyebrow, peeking at V. "Something you're not telling us about your fashion choices, V?" she asked dryly.
V blinked, just as curious as the rest. "No idea. Let's hope it's not a skeleton." he muttered jokingly, looking up towards the second floor to see what the nomad had found in his closet.
Panam sauntered over to the edge of the second floor, her grin growing wider as she leaned over the railing. With both hands, she hoisted up a bright yellow jacket, the colour so vibrant it nearly glowed in the dim light of V's apartment.
"Uh, V?" Panam called, her voice laced with mischief. "Mind explaining why you've got this tucked away?"
The jacket was impossible to miss. It was a deep, eye-catching yellow. A thick material lined with reflective strips hugged its structure, and just inside the high collar, a bright blue glow pulsed, shimmering with lines of data. There was also an elaborate logo, clearly a personal addition that had been scribbled on by its owner, adorning the back of the jacket.
River was the first to comment, crossing his arms as he eyed the garment from below. "That's…a REO Meatwagon jacket. Standard issue for their medtechs…." his surprise was clear.
Panam smirked, lifting the jacket higher as if she had just uncovered one of V's embarrassing secrets. "So, V…" she teased, eyes sparkling, "What's the story? You moonlighting as a medtech on the side? Or did you just feel like wearing the brightest jacket in Night City?" she twirled the jacket playfully, the reflective strips catching the light with every move.
V sighed, scratching the back of his neck as everyone's attention zeroed in on him. "That thing…it's, uh, just a little gift I got from someone. Didn't even ask for it—he just sent it my way, told me it used to belong to choom of his called—"
"...David Martinez." a quiet voice whispered solemnly from behind them.
V turned sharply back to Rogue, her eyes heavy with a knowing look. Her face was tired, and there was something almost disappointed about the way she looked at the jacket, as though it represented something that should have stayed buried, forever.
The room fell silent. River's brow dug deeper, the name triggering a recognition. "David…Martinez." he repeated, the gears turning in his mind. "NCPD definitely had a file with that name…but I don't think it ever reached my desk."
Judy and Panam exchanged confused glances, the name on the tip of their tongues but lost in the noise of their memories. They had certainly heard it before, maybe on a passing newsfeed or from a whisper in a dive bar, but the person behind the name was still unknown to them.
But V raised an eyebrow, his curiosity deepening. "You knew him?" he asked Rogue, his voice tentative.
He remembered the bizarre rabbit hole he had gone down just to get his hands on the jacket—following the most strange of leads, an oddly ominous braindance, whispers of a merc who had made waves just before V had truly entered the picture. A merc he had never met, but whose legend had clearly left its mark on many.
Rogue stood still, her expression hard to read. Her gaze flickered briefly to the jacket, then away again, as if upset that it was still lingering in Night City.
"Yes, I was…aware of him." she admitted, but there was no warmth in her voice, no sense of nostalgia. Just a flat, matter-of-fact tone. "But the past is the past. Not worth rehashing."
She closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head, trying to push a knowing sadness back down. When her eyes opened again, they were cold, distant, the usual steel of Rogue back in place. "Focus on the job, V, not ghosts."
V frowned, still curious about the actual story behind the jacket, but he knew better than to push. When Rogue decided to bite her tongue, it was locked tight—few things could pry it loose, save for an intervention from Johnny.
Panam's voice drifted down from above once more , her playful tone breaking the strange tension. "So, how come I've never seen you wear this?" she held the jacket closer, inspecting its bright yellow fabric and the glowing blue lining inside the collar. She cocked her head, a teasing smile on her lips. "Honestly? It might look pretty good on you."
V shrugged, glancing up at her. "Dunno. The guy who used to own it's already flatlined. And yeah, I guess I got his choom's blessing to keep it, but…" he hesitated, scratching at his chin. "It just didn't feel right on me. Like, someone else should be wearin' it."
In truth, V was confused by his own response. He was never the superstitious type—never had been. Yet, something about the jacket stirred an unease he could not quite shake. There was no real reason behind it, no solid logic to explain why it felt wrong to wear it. But the feeling remained, stubborn and irrefutable.
Even with its previous owner gone, the jacket still belonged to someone else out there.
Panam, oblivious to V's moment of reflection, smiled down from the second floor, her tone casual and relaxed. "Huh…well, maybe one day you'll get to give this jacket to them, then."
V turned away from her, his gaze drifting toward the wide living room window. The city lights of Night City twinkled below, but it was the sky that captured his attention. The stars were faint, barely visible against the haze of the urban sprawl, but the moon—glowing silver and soft—had fully risen. It hung high, a shimmering disk of light in the dark canvas, casting its glow across the skyline and filling the room with a subtle, cool hue. There was something oddly peaceful about it, bathing the world below it in its opulent moonlight—close enough to beckon, yet forever distant, untouchable, unreachable.
For now.
V smiled to himself as he stared out into the night. "Sure. Maybe one day...I will."
But the brief tranquillity was cut short by the soft clinking of data shards as Rogue swept them into her palm from the living room table. She swiftly tucked the shards into the inside pocket of her worn leather jacket, her eyes making one final sweep of the room, sharp and discerning, lingering for just a second on each face as if committing them to memory. Her first crewmates in over more than half a century.
"Alright." she said, her voice dripping with authority. "Time to move out. We've got a job to do."