A/N: Behaviour is ultimately governed by your current neurology, regardless of memories. We don't have any reincarnates in real life, obviously, but we do have plenty of studies on neuroscience and behaviour, and its implications for the concepts of personality and identity.
I have no excuse for the poor pacing, or the childishness in general. That's just due to my inexperience with writing and character writing, and while I have no way of fixing it in the short term, I'll endeavour to keep it in mind as I go forward. Thanks for the advice, Tycius!
"...You are Katanafall?"
"Holy fuck… I-is that you, Sith?" The stupid kid stares at me in understandable awe. "I knew I picked the right person!"
She also seems to be really struggling with the urge to scream 'yahoo!' or something.
…Is this really gonna be alright? I'm not big on self-doubt but these kids don't look reliable.
Hey friendos, it's ya boy, Antoinette.
To rewind a bit, right now I'm in a rundown little bar called 'Ryujin'. It's lame and tacky and sounds like some white guy from Maryland named it, but that's just what the Japanese naming sense is like in this world. And since it's all relative, I guess that means my sense of style is really unfashionable.
What a hellhole, right?
Anyway, after the victory party, Katanafall had a chat with me in private. Apparently she's 'something of a fixer' in the offline world, and she's trying to establish herself. Y'know, building up contacts, portfolio of successful transactions, that kind of thing.
Since she heard from Lyrafix that I was new to Night City, and Katanafall thinks she's sussed out a real expert (me), she wanted to know if I was interested in a job.
So, I've only been in this world for three weeks, but the impression I get is that this is normally super taboo. Especially in our local network. The culture here is that you only meet up with people you really, really trust, and even then you've gotta be prepared that it might be some sorta trick or scam. Maybe an ambush if you're really unlucky.
What that said about Katanafall, considering we've known each other for all of a few weeks, I wasn't sure at the time… basically because I decided not to think too hard about it. Since I was getting good Force vibes about the idea, I just agreed to meet up. Even if it was a trap, I was probably going to benefit in some way. That's just how these things work.
This morning I was eating breakfast when I got a message from her with the address for Ryujin. The message also mentioned that she managed to rope Aldebaran and BalsDeep in too, as well as some mercs that she knew well. Maybe it was her way of getting me comfortable with meeting in the real world, y'know, having a few mates from the guild?
Anyway, I made my way to the location in the Watson District without too much trouble. We were supposed to meet up in the 'Hakutaku Room'―fuck me dead, haha―so after speaking with the bartender I made my way there and, I shit you not, found a bunch of children lounging about, acting hard. I'm not even exaggerating; just a bunch of kids in their mid-teens, sneering and pretending to be gangsters, like you'd find behind the gym in every high school.
The one in the middle noticed me and came trotting over.
Which brings us to now.
Katanafall turns out to be an idiot wearing stupid round sunglasses that look like they come from 1920s Shanghai, and I shit you not, has done her hair up in meatballs.
Considering her natural face shape, it's not a flattering look. She's also like, fifteen or something.
Am I glad that we never kissed? Remember this, rookies, if we'd kissed, we would never have met. Rule number one of getting frisky online is that you avoid real personal details at all costs. If it turns out to be a minor then you can just tell the police you had no idea, but if the busty dark elf hottie turns out to be a hairy Tongan man then you're scarred for life. There's almost no situation where that risk is worth taking.
I'm talking from experience here, none of yous have to suffer like I did.
Anyway, getting back to these folks, I gotta say, don't think I've ever seen a less impressive group.
"Are these… the mercenaries to whom you referred? I had imagined you would be a little older," I say.
The giddy glee on her face really suddenly disappears.
"Fuck off, choom! I'm seventeen! This is a serious gig!"
I've heard before that seventeen year olds are four times more likely to die for stupid reasons than adults over twenty five.
…Yeah, nah, really not so sure about this. Should I just… leave?
"It's an easy job," says a mohawked man with blue arms. "Relax."
I keep my head and neck still and relaxed with familiar ease. Behind my visor, my gaze shifts and settles on the speaker and another woman, both closer to me by the door.
They're the only two people here above the age of twenty. They're also the only two who I'm registering as any threat at all. The moment I stepped through the door a few seconds earlier, both their eyes went straight to my weapons.
After a bit, I move my head to match my gaze.
"The two of you are entertaining this idea?"
The mohawked guy is probably BalsDeep.
"It'll be fine, gorgeous." He's got X-Men's Cyclops visor, but intuition tells me he's looking at my chest. He laughs. "I was doing worse at half their age. Besides, we Black Cats have gotta look out for each other, right?"
Ohoho, you think that'll fool me? Whatever it is that he's here for, it's not loyalty to his video game guild. At least not as a concept. Maybe he and Katanafall have known each other for a really long time. It's not like I, Samyuero, have never been close to guild members before.
I jerk my head at the youth delinquents.
"And them?"
"They're my chooms. That's Kenji, Ema, and Furuchin," Katanafall explains. "They know what's up."
The three teens puff up and nod approvingly at her words. I take a moment to look down at Furuchin's pants, but don't see anything.
"Oh, I'm Taki, by the way," she adds, but I ignore her and turn to the woman.
Pink hair, just like Aldebaran, but unlike the slim elf, this woman has recently let herself go. The woman's cyberware matches her build perfectly, but around the edges are signs that those cyberarms were made for a skinnier woman. Edlyn pointed out the telltale signs on the cashier on the 30th floor grocery store.
"And you?" I ask.
Her expression is relaxed, and honestly kinda easy-going as she chews on a burrito. No way she ordered that here, so must've brought it in with her. Shit. Should I have bought something in as well? It was my first time using the NCARTs today, so I skipped lunch and came early.
Maybe I can order something from the bar once we start talking shop.
"It's low stakes, anyway. Been itching to get back into the game." She swallows. "And if this is a trick, no offence 'Tana, you're dead."
Katanafall goes ramrod straight.
"Hey, hey, I'm a fixer, OK? Reputation is everything to me."
The woman ignores Katanafall and looks at me. "She also said that the kids get a way smaller cut."
"Just until we've got some notches on our belt," says Ema, who seems less impressed with me than Katanafall. The girl's eyes light up and she scowls. "Why's this lady get the same cut as you two, though? She's new, nobody knows her, and she doesn't even have cyberware."
"You sayin' that 'cause you tried scanning her? The armour's a jammer, kid," says BalsDeep. He's wrong, but sure. "The mercs in Europe run with all kinds of fancy stuff."
I set Gorgonzola off to the side and take a seat next to BalsDeep, since most of the other seats are occupied. Katanafall's eyes pop behind her sunnies when she notices the sword I've brought with me.
"Very well. Shall we begin, then?" I ask.
"Erm, we're actually waiting for one more." Katanafall smiles sheepishly. "He's stuck in traffic. We can totes go through introductions, though! What'd you do back in Europe?"
They all look at me, even the teens pretending not to care.
"Should you not divulge the broad strokes of the job first? I have not yet agreed to participate, nor join your team."
Beyond honestly pretty hazy estimates of the difficulty, and well, the expected payout, Katanafall didn't wanna talk about the job online. That's understandable, at least from her perspective. Still, just by being here I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt.
It sounds like she's already gone over it with the other two, anyway.
She grimaces toothily. "Ah, c'mon 'Ram. I was just askin' about what you're happy to tell us. I'll go over the detes of the job once Dong-Geon is here. You don't gotta tell us your life story or anything."
Huh. Fair enough. Am I being too sensitive?
I quickly recall the backstory I've prepared in advance.
"Very well. I am a level 60 Rune Knight. Owing to circumstances I won't delve into, I have recently reset my skill trees and as of yet have not completely reassigned them."
Yeah, I'm using Elfline terminology. Better to let them think I'm a weirdo rather than somebody who doesn't know a lick of European streetslang, and is obviously not from the European underworld, haha.
The one named Furuchin looks bamboozled. He leans towards Kenji and whispers in Jap, "The fuck is this lady talking about?"
It takes Katanafall about seven seconds to understand what I'm saying. I can tell, because that's how long it takes for her expression to turn to blatant comprehension.
"Damn. OK, I get it, choom. Is everything in Europe usually so cape and dagger? You don't mind if I translate, do you?"
Her friend Ema definitely gets it though, from the way she rolled her eyes earlier.
"As you wish."
Smug, Katanafall says, "She's saying that she used to be a street samurai. Probably did some biz that got too much heat, so she ditched her cyberware, got some parts cloned, and now she's tryna pick something different. How close am I?"
She looks so proud.
"Close enough," I say. I don't actually have a specific backstory cooked up. Was planning to crowdsource ideas, lol.
BalsDeep is about to say something when the privacy door opens and a blue-haired guy in a choker saunters in.
The guy says something boisterously in Korean, which I err, don't speak, but it's probably something along the lines of "Heyyy, bros! Not late to the party am I? Wahahahaha!"
Katanafall's face lights up.
"Dong-Geon! Finally!"
Right after I finished my introduction, too. He couldn't have come thirty seconds earlier?
Dong-Geon's expression turns chiding and he rattles off some more Korean.
"We're not calling you that," Katanafall says. "Nobody calls you that."
Dong-Geon really disagrees, haha. Oh, 'aigoh', I know that word!
"Huhaha! I'll call you that if you want, choom!" BalsDeep says with a chuckle. Right. Hm. Really going to have to do something about my lack of an auto-translator.
I've been confident for a while now that I can get the local translation models compatible with the translation suite in my helmet. I just, err, haven't gotten around to it yet. Shouldn't be too hard. Just have to work out the format my helmet software is expecting and do a bit of coding.
My focus snaps back to the meeting when I hear my name.
"Pardon?"
Dong-Geon says some more stuff in Korean at me. Or at least while looking at me.
Should I respond?
Ramyeon meokgo gallae? Haha. I really probably shouldn't say that.
What do I say?
"Apologies, I seem to have lost my train of thought." I look right at Katanafall. "Would you mind repeating that for me?"
"Hey, no probs. I was just introducing you. Do the rest of you wanna do your introductions now?"
She looks around.
"Actually, lemme start," she says. "I'm Taki, kind of an up-and-coming fixer. Got some family in high places, but I'm tryna make it on my own. OK, Dong-Geon, go."
He holds his chin and poses before he begins.
…
…I've really got to get that translator. When he's done, Dong-Geon points at BalsDeep with finger guns, who smiles.
"These three know me as BalsDeep." He points at me, Katanafall and Aldebaran. "But Taki knows my meatspace identity; she'll vouch for me. Been in the merc game for a while so stick with me and maybe you won't die, fuhaha! 'Kay, Al, your turn!"
Aldebaran shrugs and finishes chewing the next bite of her food. "I've been out of the game for a while. Some motherfuckers got… Well, doesn't fuckin' matter. Point is, I know what I'm doin' as a Solo, so you brats stay behind me."
One of the boys scowls, but doesn't say anything.
We wait.
…She's not going to pass the baton, is she? She's not. She's gone back to her burrito. Okay.
"…You three are Taki's friends, I understand?" I say. "What experience do you have?"
The Ema girl bristles like a cat.
As a man with over thirty years experience of being a woman, I don't blame her.
She's threatened by my beauty.
Before I came into the picture, she was the most attractive girl in the room; Taki's fashion sense is a disaster, while Aldebaran's starting to get a little flabby.
Even though I'm covered head to toe in armour, there's no hiding my figure, nor my natural confidence. Her female intuition is screaming at her that I'm a threat.
"What experience do you have?! Seems like you're the only one Taki doesn't know about," she shouts.
Should I maybe calm her down with the Force? It's not like I'm interested in either of her little boyfriends.
…Better not try. I'm shit at Sith Sorcery, and trying to calm hysterical women with it hasn't turned out well for me, y'know, historically.
"Whoa, whoa, Ema, chill!" Katanafall gestures calmingly.
"No. Why the fuck should I?! When you said you had merc contacts, I didn't think you meant you recruited them off your stupid fucking elf game!"
Stupid?!
"You take that back!" I roar. "Eflines Online 3: The Elflords is a marvel of modern game development and VR technology, and is the true successor to the VRMMORPG legacy!"
Fuck. If it wasn't for the whole being poor and homeless and stuck to a single planet thing, I'd say I've been having the time of my fucking life. EO3. What can I even say about EO3?
I've always loved elves. Loved the idea of elves, whether because I wanted to rape them, or because I wanted to be one myself. It was but a―
"A-are you fucking hearing this shit?!" Ema screams. She looks around at the boys, but they're doing their best to stay out of it.
"C'mon, I got a good feeling about this," Katanafall tries.
"When have any of your good feelings amounted to anything more than some half-cocked idea?"
"You're here, ain'tcha?!" Katanafall shouts.
Dunno what all this teen drama is about, but apparently that last line is quite a zinger because the Ema deflates, haha.
"'Sides, Bals has err, helped me with some techie stuff in the past. He's legit."
Katanafall is slightly red-faced. I'll see if I can dig up the story later, but for now I clear my throat, which brings their attention back to me.
"I understand your concern about an unknown without any local social capital—" "Social capital…?" "—But speaking bluntly, if I still had my 'street cred',"—I make sure to make the air quotes because it sounds goofy as fuck—"I would not be here."
BalsDeep leans back into his seat and chimes in with an easy grin. "Kid, for a gig like this you'll be fuckin' lucky if your crew ain't two bit thugs with a Slaught-O-Matic. One, between them."
"Hey! It's good info! A good haul!" Katanafall objects.
"We'll see." Ah, Aldebaran's finally finished her burrito. She's looking at Ema and her friends. "A smash 'n' grab like this still ain't the kinda gig you need an edgerunner for. It's basically just warm-up."
"Yeah? If it's such a nothing gig, then why're you here, Al?" Katanafall challenges.
"'Cause you begged me, and said you wanted to make sure your choombas came out alright."
Oh ho ho, is that a blush I see coming on? Damn, all four of these kids are blushing. Youth… It fucking disgusts me.
"'Sides, eddies're eddies, and I said 'warm-up', not 'waste of time'."
…Yeah, nah, that's cool and all, but can somebody actually explain to me what this job is? I've been here for like five minutes and I've still got no clue what the fuck my Force Clairvoyance sent me here for. It's supposed to be enough for start-up capital, at least. That's my gut feeling.
Dong-Geon decides it's his turn to say something but I still dunno what that is lol.
It's another two minutes while the kids finally introduce themselves, before I ask.
"So, what exactly is this job? You refused to specify over comms."
If any of you have guessed by now that the job is going to be fucking stupid, you're right, ya clever cunts. It's meat smuggling. I don't mean that as a euphemism for human trafficking or anything. We're going after literal meat.
According to Katanafall, her uncle or her dad or something is the client, technically, which means we're the mercs she's hoping to hire for the job. While fighting with Maelstrom over in Watson, some Tyger Claws thugs stumbled across a manifest for some of the smuggling coming down from NorCal. Specifically, for illicitly sourced organic meat.
Not sure if I've mentioned before, but having animals around is pretty strictly regulated. Apparently a few decades back some farm corporations or something got into an escalating biowarfare-heavy corporate sabotage match, leaving behind a lot of plagues that animals are especially susceptible to.
Beyond corporate incentives to crack down on competition, Edlyn says that the organic meat market is rife with unsafe contamination. That means that unregulated organic meat is very, very illegal.
Still, people buy and eat it anyway. Don't know why. Like I've said, synth meat and vat grown meat are perfectly tasty alternatives, so it's stupid that the poor are still choosing to eat potentially toxin-and-disease-ridden meat. I bet some of it comes from rats or guinea pigs or something. We are in California, after all, and there's plenty of hispanics around. Err, the taco ones, I mean, not the Iberian ones like my dad.
Anyway, back to the gig, but with the gang war with Maelstrom going on, anybody in the Tyger Claws competent enough for the job isn't worth sparing. Instead, Katanafall's uncle bought the rights to the info from his own gang, and is relying on her to recruit mercenaries to do the job instead. Personally, I reckon it's more like a bone thrown to Katanafall to get her career as a fixer going. Maybe her dad is hoping to keep her out of any other trouble she might get up to.
"The warehouse is up in east Northside, just meant to be where they store the goods from the Nomads until different goons transport it to distro. So, you in?" Katanafall is smiling eagerly.
Well, woulda liked more detail still, but I'm obviously not going to get it until I commit. Besides, my Force Clairyovance hasn't steered me wrong yet. Well, at least as Antoinette.
"I suppose I am."
"Great! This is going to be nova. You three are here to do your thing." Katanafall gestures at me, BalsDeep, and Aldebaran. "Ema, Kenji, and Furuchin are gonna support you how you want."
"Is Bals leading?" asks Aldebaran.
"Yep. Is that okay?"
Aldebaran shrugs. "As long as he takes this more seriously than our raids."
"Sweet. Anyway, Dong-Geon, you're our driver."
"Oi, oi, the man's name is Cheetah," BalsDeep interjects. "Right, choom?"
The disgust on Katanafall's face is the first time I've seen her look at Bals with anything less than respect since this meet-up began.
Dong-Geon crows something approving in Korean. What the hell are you saying, man? Speak American, for fuck's sake.
"A-anyway, this is the spot."
She pulls up a map, with stills of the location.
"Huh! Small fuckin' world!" BalsDeep exclaims. Some of the kids look over at him and he explains. "This is right by the Budget Arms factory. I go by the place all the time. Never noticed any smuggling."
Aldebaran crosses her arms.
"Anything of note?"
"Haha, nah. Like I said, never woulda thought anything interesting was going down there. Just a lot of abandoned warehouses. It's not drugs or guns, so I guess they're hoping to hide it in plain sight and save on security costs."
"Still, good to know the territory," Aldebaran muses, her eyes scanning the map. "Could make a difference."
Katanafall nods, her enthusiasm undimmed. "Right! The plan is simple. You go in, grab as much of the contraband as we can, and get out before anyone's the wiser. Easy creds."
There's a collective murmur of agreement, though the teens still seem a bit on edge. I can't blame them. This might be their first real gig outside of petty thievery or whatever teenage delinquents in Night City do for fun.
My first real job in this world is a meat run. Haha. With a bunch of little kids.
I sigh.
Ah, fuck it.
What the hell. Beats scavenging guns.
"Very well. Are we all in agreement then?"
Nods around the room.
Katanafall claps her hands together. "Great! You guys are gonna be nova, I just know it!"
Aldebaran rolls her eyes.
"So we fuckin' doin' this or what?"
Katanafall nods like a woodpecker. "Since we're all in, this is what we're gonna do."
＊＊＊
The prices for the snacks at this shitty bar are a fucking scam. I'm gonna head home, maybe get some food on the way. Try to steal my fucking money, huh?
I turn my back on the bored, slack-jawed bartender and briskly make a beeline through the gaudy lounge. Fucking holo-ads. Fucking Lazrpop. Fucking 'Shinobi Shaw'-tier naming sense.
The heat hits me before I reach the door. When I exit, Katanafall spots me and peels away from where her friends are squatting by the wall. Shame. If they were squatting outside a 7-Eleven, at least one thing in this world would be authentically Japanese.
"Hey, choom, listen, you aren't gonna regret this. With you three's experience, and us four's street smarts, this job's good as done." She flicks her stupid sunglasses in emphasis and the sun beams off its surface into my eyes for a moment.
I stare down at her, a little annoyed, until I remember that I'm covered head to toe in reflective red beskar. Pots, kettles. Eh.
Hah. Dumb fucking kid looks so excited.
…I don't feel like ruining it for her, so I give her a thumbs up. If nothing else, at least her parents or whatever are high up in the local gang, so can't hurt to have a good relationship. I do live in Japantown, after all. Apparently the Claws don't do much girl-snatching in the good parts, but if some of their fuckhead goons lose their minds because of my beauty, maybe Katanafall can smooth things over when I disembowel them.
Actually, shit. For all I know, it's the in with Katanafall that's my big break.
"Shall we do a raid tonight?" I ask.
"Huh?"
"In-game."
Her face lights up in comprehension.
"Wait, don't you gotta, like, prepare for the real biz?"
"Today is three times XP, and tomorrow is double crafting day. If we miss the opportunity to raid tonight we may have to wait until the next month for such a windfall, and consider that the boss drop buffs will expire in merely ten days from now meaning we should seize the opportunity because the upcoming update is rumoured to affect the way subclass ultimates function and tier-scaling bonuses, and while that will benefit the solo PvE playerbase, it will be a net detriment to our guild-based PvP, necessarily requiring―why are you looking at me as though you've made a mistake?"
She flounders for a bit, but I take mercy on her and decide to head off. It's not rude. Aldebaran went ghost the moment the meeting was over, and BalsDeep and Cheetah fucked off to a BD brothel together. Weird idea, but I won't knock it until I try it. Can't be more awkward than a blowjob bar, haha.
The walk to the NCART station is uneventful. Little China's public security isn't so great, but I've got a huge sword and I'm fully geared in plate armour. Most people give me a wide berth.
After ten minutes I'm there. I pass through the green light of the 'turnstile' scanner, and my agent notifies me of deducted funds on the card. To my surprise, there are quite a few men on the platform. Don't these people have jobs?
I stare vacantly at the Nicola vending machine for a bit before taking my own place on the platform.
The public transportation in this city is shithouse. To get home, I'll have to change lines three times. Who designed the layouts of these fuckin' train tracks? Adam Something was right about the state of American city planning. Utterly disgusting.
Once I have some money, I'll have to go native and buy a car.
At least the NCART arrivals are frequent. Soon enough, a train screeches to a halt in front of me. The doors open and if I wasn't wearing my helmet I'd probably be getting hit in the face with the smell of piss right now.
The other passengers politely wait for me to go first, so I board the carriage and find an empty spot near the door. Don't really wanna sit, and don't wanna touch the grab rails either, so I activate the magnets in my boots and just stand in place as the train jerks into motion.
The NCART noisily departs the platform, and I gaze out the door windows at the plebs below. I'm one of them now.
I miss my ship.
Y'know, it seems obvious in hindsight, but I hadn't realised I'd been living in an MMORPG at the time. Neither as Antoinette, nor as Slaveanna. The excessively huge doors should have clued me in. They were well over twice my height. I'd just assumed, y'know, at the time, that they were built for big aliens and a really bad sense of grandeur.
The Sith statues on Korriban were fucking ridiculously big, after all.
But really, I miss my fucking ship.
It was such a little beauty. The Fury-class Imperial Interceptor. Was a little austere when I first got it, but I really cozied the place up. Just my Captain's quarters, of course—couldn't let the minions think I'd gone soft.
The point is, that thing was my fucking Skyrim carriage home. It was fast, it was stylish, it could fit a bunch of mooks in the hold, and it could even take a beating from a cruiser if needed. I named her the Honeylingus. Nobody got the joke.
Actually, she was initially registered as the Crimson, and then the Azure, but there were always thirty other Sith with ships of the same name. Spent a few days workshopping and came up with the Roseate. When it turned out to be the name of some fat Hutt's space yacht, I gave up on trying to be edgy altogether.
So I ended up with the Honeylingus.
Yeah, so the point is, I really love my ship. I loved her to pieces. I loved her to bits.
Yeah, I technically maybe lost her three decades ago, but one third of me is convinced it's only been three fucking weeks, so the loss still feels raw, alright?
No cheat powers. No savings account. No mansion on Dromund Kaas or Naar Shaddaa or my beloved Honeylingus.
No good anime or manga, either, at least that I've seen.
Oh, and I guess I miss all of my parents, too. Recently I've been trying not to think about Samyuero's parents and my sudden disappearance from my apartment, but now that I'm thinking about it, I feel kinda bad as Antoinette as well.
Yeah, sure, those two got themselves killed ages ago, and they were kind of batshit, but they doted on me in their own way, y'know? Bought me toys, tea, and slaves for every birthday, and Mother was a big hugger for a Sith. They've both been long interred in our ancestral tombs now―even if you discount that maybe I lived thirty years as Samyuero again after Antoinette―but like it still sucks that I'm cut off from their remains. Right?
Fuck, like what if their Force imprints joined our ancestors in haunting the place? Their imprints could be floating around Korriban wondering when I'll join them.
I sigh again.
Why do great gains so often come with great losses?
It's great that I don't have to fight a war against other space wizards. I guess being a battle wizard beats being a software dev. It's just that I've lost so much, and worse, I'm poor now.
I hate being poor.
When I finally get home, the good grocery store has closed early for some kind of emergency.
…I really shouldn't be spending so much money, but…
After just a moment more hesitation, I take the elevator up a dozen levels to the 42nd floor. It's not the kind of food I can afford all the time, but there's that gig coming up. It's time to finally try the Lanzhou reconstituted-mealworm-beef noodle restaurant.
As expected, it's yummy.