REBECCA

I waited until Whiskers dragged Kitten away.

Maine had already started to move back to the couch, where he had either been vegging to Just Ads, or more likely trying to suck the RealSkinn off Dorio's face. And while part of me was loathe to cockblock, this was a conversation that had to happen.

"Maine."

He didn't stop, so I picked up a discarded can of Narajita and tossed it at him. It arced through the air, and bounced off his dense head with a satisfying sound. He twitched, hand moving up to his hair protectively, before he turned towards me with a glare, "What?"

I gestured to the kitchen table, where my duffel was open, "Gotta talk to ya."

He rolled his eyes and grunted, but moved back towards me all the same, even if it was with a slouch, "Like I said, 'bout what?"

I gestured to the bag, "Take a look."

He opened it up with one hand, and the disinterested look on his face quickly fled as he pawed at the weapons inside, "Preem iron. That it?"

I jabbed a finger at the table, "That iron is the reason we're talking right now, instead of me ghosting your ass."

He stopped, and turned his attention to me, "Oh?"

I raised an eyebrow, "That all you got to say? When's the last time you bought me somethin' nova? Given me more than a few ennies?"

He scoffed, "That what this is about? You want your payment in iron next time? Fine."

I shook my head, and advanced on him, jabbing him somewhere in his collection of belts, "Nah. I want a fair cut of any gig I work with you, not just the shit jobs either." I'd have kept advancing, but he wasn't backing away, and I couldn't exactly move him. I settled on just glaring up angrily at him, "I want tech-prep. I want intel. I want a fuckin' say." I punctuated each point with another jab, "Ten percent of profit after the fixer's cut is trash, and you know it's trash."

He crossed his arms in reply, and looked down at me, expression all biz, "Too bad, cause you ain't leadin' this crew. Besides," He grinned at me, "runnin' ain't cheap. Lots of expenses, and everyone gets a cut based on their participation. Ten percent's more'n fair."

I didn't give ground, even if it was starting to hurt my neck to look up that far, "Xcept you know it ain't. Fixer just stiffs you with scraps, and you let that roll to us. I thought a leader was supposed ta protect us." He flinched, and I almost felt bad. It was a low blow, especially after what had happened with Sasha. I'd seen how he'd beaten himself up over it, but he also wasn't fucking listening to me, "I just pulled in enough dosh to eat for six months, and that was for a half hour of basically range time. You don't kit me, you don't pay me." I narrowed my eyes as I stared him down, "And you just proved that you sure as hell don't respect me. So why exactly am I talkin' to you again, instead of just looking for a better crew?"

He snorted at me, the fuck, "Fill your shoes. You bein' here's a favour to Pilar."

It woulda been so easy to shoot him, especially since he was rockin' enough layers of subdermal that all it'd do was probably scratch his RealSkinn. SAAI had even picked up on my intentions, and was helpfully highlighting optimal ballistic trajectories for me. But starting to spit lead inside the safehouse wasn't the way to do this, not with Sasha still keeping her head down.

He either didn't care, or he was just acting tough, and neither were the response I wanted. Fine.

I had enough eddies to move out. Fuck living with Pilar, fuck living in the NID period. Maine didn't want to appreciate me? I knew someone that did. I took a deep breath, and stepped back from the massive gonkass. I turned to the table, and grabbed my duffel, throwing it over my shoulder with maybe a bit more force than necessary, "Nova. Good talk."

He watched me, "You walk, there's ten other street kids lookin' to take your place." I didn't reply, instead moving to the door, "Don't come cryin' when the eds run dry!"

Dorio was watching me, had been since I'd interrupted Maine, "You serious, Becca?"

I nodded to her, "Yeah. Like I said, been doin' some soul searchin', and realized I'm wasted here." She'd been halfway decent to me, but it wasn't enough to keep me around. She realized it too, "Don't flatline for this gonk."

She reached out tentatively, then turned the motion into a closed fist, held out, "Don't be a stranger Becca. It don't work out, holo me." I appreciated what she was trying to do, even if wasn't what I wanted to do, "Maine's a fuckin' softie, and we don't run a daycare." She winked at me, "I'll ring his bell if I have to."

I met her fist, and paused by the door, "Thanks Dorio. If Kitten asks, I'll be in the car."

She nodded curtly, "And Pilar?"

I shrugged, and walked out, "What about him?" He was probably building himself a wanking gadget or something gross like that.

The big solo returned the gesture, "Good point, and good luck."

I left without further drama. I'd acted hard, but under the surface I was fucking roiling. I wanted to go to the range and let out some bottled aggression, but I'd have to wait until Motoko finished checking in on Sasha before we could delta out. When I thought about it, she had a really weird collection of skills. Drove like a granny, and talked like one too sometimes. Could NETrun, arguably pretty damn well, if Sasha was buying her spells. Could fight too, she didn't shy away from diving right into the fray. And she did her own tech, and treated her team well. Either she was a baba with a real good facelift, or she had the type of talent that only came once in a generation.

In either case, my eyes were fucking shrewed. I knew when someone was built different. Built special.

Maine? He was just built stupid.

I dropped my duffel on the ground near Motoko's ride, and popped a squat on the curb. Next stop? Home, and I'd be taking all my stuff. Could probably check into a motel for the night while I figured out where to go. While I waited for the super-solo, I retasked SAAI to trawl the Datapool for conapt listings. Nothing too bougie, like Charter Hill, and I'd probably turn heads if I ended up in some stuffy corpo-backed high rise. And I sure as shit wasn't moving to any number of shipping container favelas or underpass tent villages.

Had to have decent security, space for my gear and any work I'd have to do on it. Maybe a studio, while I started out. Didn't need anything special like a kitchen or a laundry, and it wasn't like I had a vested interest in either of those things. Eating out of a SCSM was cheaper anyways, and most of my clothes were either armoured or nonexistent enough that I could get away with using a public laundromat. And iron went a long way to making sure my shit wouldn't get klepped either.

Just needed to find a solid ripper, one that I could trust. Motoko had just had some work done too, got a Sandy chipped. Blackhand's Manual called for a few things that a solid solo needed: a ripper you could stake your life on, speedware to ensure you didn't flatline in a friday-night firefight, and a keen mind that could overcome obstacles before they became obstacles.

Fights were supposed to be won before a single shot got fired, after all. You could say what you wanted about power coming from the barrel of a gun, but there was also a saying about picking your fights. I think I'd done pretty damn well for myself in there with Maine, because I'd walked away. Woulda been better if he'd had actually listened and respected me, but he'd probably thought I was just greedy or being a pain.

Just had to block Pilar's number before he started harassing me, and I could sort myself out. SAAI pinged me with a list of places that had vacancies, and I was about to start trawling when I heard the door to the hideout. From within, raised voices spilled into the street.

I turned to watch, only to see Motoko flounce out in a huff. Her expression was closed, and I wasn't able to pick out anything from it - which was unusual, because she usually wore her emotions on her sleeve. Instead, she just toggled the car open for me, and threw herself into the driver's seat. I didn't waste time, and hopped in too.

"Maine always that big a gonk?" Her voice was light, but I could see where she was clenching the steering wheel.

"Only when he gets pissy." I shrugged, "Mind givin' me a ride? I think it's time I moved out."

She snorted, but started the car, "Heh, that bad?"

I sighed, and did up my seatbelt, "Coulda been worse. We coulda been shootin' and screamin'." SAAI flashed me a warning, just as the door opened, and Pilar ran out, "Let's delta." Gonk tried to get in, then ran to block us when he realized the door was locked.

There was a dull thud, and I bounced slightly as Motoko ran him over. Huh. Maybe a fresh start was better this way. And look, the seatbelt worked!

The grin I exchanged with her told me that maybe, just maybe, I'd made the right decision after all.