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June 12, 2077 (Saturday) Biotechnica Flats Southern Desert Outskirts of Night City, California Early morning ___________________________ The helicopter thudded away, carrying with it Rami and Steve. I watched as Steve’s departing wave disappeared into the morning haze. As the aircraft retreated from sight, Sammy and I looked back toward the station wagon, tucked into a parking spot outside of the administration buildings. Already, the absence of half of our "friend" group was closing in, though I hadn’t quite registered that on a conscious level yet. "Well, I guess it’s our turn," I announced, looking around for Professor McKinnell. She, herself, had disappeared into the side of the industrial building as soon as the helicopter had taken off. "I guess so," Sammy said, following my gaze. "So, you driving to San Fran? We’ve got a train to catch," I asked, trying to lighten the mood. Sammy laughed nervously, fiddling with the keys. "Well, I’ve been awake for…too long…I can definitely get us going, but honestly, I can’t guarantee where we might end up." "Point taken," I responded, putting my arm around Sammy once again and escorting him toward the car. "Gimme the keys. You’ll be my Plus Two." "Plus Two?" Sammy asked, confused, as we reached the car and he situated himself in the front passenger seat. "Yeah," I acknowledged, sliding into the driver’s seat. "You, me, and Mister Insomnia. Great for long road trips. Shitty for everything else. But, never mind about that. You hungry? Before we hit the road, we should really grab some breakfast." "Breakfast sounds good," Sammy agreed, relaxing visibly as we pulled out of the parking lot and into the long road leaving the Biotechnica plant. As I drove us away, I had to remind myself that I was protecting someone who was just as much an adult as I was. Sammy was in the middle of his medical residency, for god’s sake. But, there was an innocence about him that made me want to look out for him, to be the one who smoothed his way. "We’re gonna get you to the woods, Sammy boy," I whispered to the sleeping form next to me. "And then we’ll see about this ‘Wood Pirates’ shit." We made our way back up the 101 north, retracing our route from a few short hours earlier. I kept my eyes fixated on the signs that would indicate that Night City was finally behind us, and the stretch of nothingness that would lead us to San Francisco and our job was ahead. As Sammy drifted off to sleep, I put on one of my favorite playlists. Eventually, "Goodbye Stranger" by Supertramp crooned through the speakers, and I found myself humming along as darkness stretched out on either side of the road. Occasionally, a self-driving big rig or two would pass us by, lights blazing like fireflies in the dawn. But, apart from that, the highway was empty, humming past us for kilometers upon kilometers. At length, an exit came up that held the promise of food. "Breakfast time," I announced, resulting in a jolt and groan from Sammy. I pulled off the freeway, maneuvering into the parking lot. In the distance, I could see the sparkle of the Pacific Ocean under an early morning marine layer. As I opened my door, the smell of frying eggs and car exhaust filled the air, mingling with the salty tang of the ocean. Over the water, the sunrise was just beginning to tease across the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink, purple, and gold. "Coffee?" I asked, rousing Sammy fully. He stretched and yawned, blinking sleepily. "Yeah, sure," he replied. "What time is it?" "Just after six," I answered, glancing at the station wagon's digital clock. "But, it’s a food truck. I doubt they care." Sammy nodded, stepping out of the car and stretching his gangly limbs as I did a quick walk around the vehicle, exercising my own cramped muscles. "You good?" he asked, joining me after a moment. "Yeah. Just stiff," I responded. "Let’s get some caffeine and protein." We placed our orders, Sammy requesting a veggie and egg burrito minus the egg, and me requesting the same, but with egg and with Sammy’s egg on the side. The food truck attendant, a sleepy-eyed man with a bushy mustache, nodded in understanding, and we paid in cash. We sat on the tailgate of the car, watching the sunrise over the water, munching in companionable silence. After a few minutes, I began to realize something absolutely horrible: he was cute. Not in an "I want to climb that" kind of way, but in a "he’s actually kind of adorable" way. Clearly, too much time underground and not enough socializing had fried my brain. I didn’t need any attachments. Not now. Or, maybe, ever. Jig Jig street had been more than effective at addressing my urges for romantic entanglements. "You okay, Kat?" Sammy asked around a bite of burrito. "Fine," I replied, a bit more tersely than I’d intended, my cheeks heating up. "Just wondering if we have everything we need for the job." "I think so," he said, "But, you know me. I’m the doctor, not the commando." "Well, we’d better make sure," I replied, retrieving my agent and punching a search in for a suitable military surplus. "Crazy Ivan's Discount Guns and Stuff" came up. It was in Soledad, which put it on the way to San Francisco. "Well, there’s a surplus place on the way. Mind if we hit it to make sure? They might even have some extra rations." Sammy eyed me warily but nodded. "Sure, if you think we need to." I shot him an impish grin. "Safety first, Piñata. Safety first." I popped the last bite of the burrito into my mouth, wiped my fingers on a napkin, and tossed it in a nearby wastebasket. On my way back to the car, I found my eyes tracing along Sammy’s form as he once again stretched his back. I shook my head to clear it. Damn me and my rotten, suicidal libido. "Let’s get moving. We’ve got wood pirates to find and a deadline to meet," I announced, clambering into the driver’s seat and starting up the engine. "Um, Kat?" Sammy ventured as we pulled onto the road. "Yeah?" I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Thanks for sticking with me on this crazy journey. I…", he trailed off, "I don’t know what I’d do without you." "Hey, that’s what friends are for," I replied, my cheeks flushing again. "Besides, if I’m keeping score right, you got dragged into this mess anyway." "Yeah, but still…" Sammy mumbled, staring out the window. Chuckling, I put my hand on his thigh and squeezed it reassuringly. "Relax, man. We’re in this together." We spent the remainder of the morning’s drive in a comfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional radio station acquisition. The highway was shattered and brittle, with potholes large enough to swallow a car if you weren’t careful. Thankfully, Sammy had purchased his ride with aftermarket suspension, and we bounced along without too much trouble. Over time, the sun climbed higher and higher as Sammy dozed off in the passenger seat, his head lolling sideways. As we drew closer to our destination, the scenery began to change. Barren fields gave way to more lush, green expanses. The first few tall trees loomed overhead, their branches swaying in the breeze. I took in the unfamiliar sight. I’d seen this kind of landscape on TV, but seeing it in person was something I’d never imagined. Finally, the GPS chirped, signaling our arrival at our destination: a sprawling strip mall with a gigantic military surplus anchor shop in the middle baring a garish, bullet-shaped sign reading "Crazy Ivan's Discount Emporium." "We’re here," I said, nudging Sammy awake. "Time to gear up." Sammy, bless his heart, was awake in an instant, his eyes wide with anticipation. "I’m awake! I’m ready to go to work." Laughing, I patted him on the arm. "You’re not at work, nor do you have to be for some time. We’re here to get some goodies." "Oh, right," Sammy said, blushing ever so slightly. "You know," I said, watching him, "You’re gonna grow up to be quite the combat medic." Sammy straightened his posture, visibly flustered. "Right, right. Sorry, I just…" he trailed off, his cheeks flushing. "Don’t worry about it, Doc," I reassured him as he climbed out of the car, stretching again. "Let’s go see what madness this place has in store for us."

Earlier... Saturday, June 12, 2077 Somewhere in Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California Afternoon ___________________________ The morning started with clear skies and quiet winds. We moved out early, the forest still dark beneath a layer of fog. I was ahead of the group, scanning the area, Trask at my side, his rifle slung casually but ready. The goal was simple: scout the firewatch tower before the misfits arrived and set up any covert assets necessary to close the net on their prized netrunner once she was present. We reached the tower about a half hour later. Or what was left of it. The damn thing had collapsed, wood and metal scattered like broken bones. The site was a mess, wreckage spread out across the clearing. The platform, which was supposed to be a vantage point, lay flat on the ground, warped and crushed under the weight of debris. It looked like it had been ripped apart by a storm, or worse, by human hands. Splintered beams, glass, and panels of aluminum were strewn everywhere, and the roof had caved in completely, lying in pieces on the forest floor. The tower’s support beams, thick, solid logs that once held the entire structure aloft, were snapped clean in half, like some force had caused them to fail under their own weight. Nothing stood more than a few meters off the ground. It wasn’t just damaged, it was obliterated. "This wasn’t in the plan." I grumbled. I crouched next to what used to be a door, now lying at an awkward angle among the ruins. The metal hinges were bent, barely recognizable. I ran my hand over the broken wood, feeling the jagged edges. It wasn’t old decay. There was no rot. The cuts were recent, fresh. Someone had taken this place apart. "Trask." I called, unease creeping up my spine. "Check for signs of traps." Trask nodded and moved in, his eyes sweeping the site, hands already working over the carnage as he pulled out his scanner. The rest of the team spread out, each moving carefully through the clearing, trying not to disturb anything more than necessary. It was quiet here. Too quiet. The only sounds were our boots crunching over smashed glass and the occasional rustle of leaves from the wind. No birds. No animals. Just silence. Vera stared at the remains of the tower. "Not a damn thing I can do with this." she explained. "There's nothing left to jack into." "No traps. No traces of explosives either." Trask added, straightening up after his sweep. "Whatever brought this down, it wasn’t a bomb. More likely someone with a cutter and keen knowledge about how to fell a tree." I cursed under my breath, kicking a small pile of debris out of frustration. Whoever hit this place had done it fast and clean, right under Biotechnica's nose. They knew what they were doing. "What about footprints? Tire marks?" I asked, pacing through the clearing, eyes working over the ground. "Nothing." Trask replied. "Ground’s soft from the rain last night, but it’s been disturbed too much. Hard to tell what’s natural and what’s not. If I had to make a guess, I'd say it was the wood pirates not wanting to be seen doing their thing." I stood there, fists clenched, staring at the ruined tower. I had nothing to work with. No clues, no trail to follow. Just destruction. "I wasn't expecting to have to deal with hostilities on two fronts." I muttered, my teeth grinding together. "The edgerunners are a handful enough." Vera stepped closer, her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. We need into Biotechnica's network." I nodded. It was indesputable that this was planned. Biotechnica wouldn't destroy their own tower, would they? No, it had to have been the pirates. They wanted eyes off their prizes. And for now, they’d succeeded. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me. Trask gave me a look. "What now?" I sighed, looking around the dense trees. The air was damp, and the smell of pine and moss filled my lungs. It was almost suffocating. I could feel the wet chill seeping through my clothes. "We adjust." I said. "They’ll divert to another tower. We need to identify it and be there before them." Vera, Nash, Davian, and Jinx nodded. "Pack it up." I ordered, my voice hard. "Let's fall back to the camp and fortify. And, Vera, when we get there, I want you to focus on getting into the goddamned network. I want eyes everywhere." ----- We hiked into the afternoon, pushing back into the forest. The trees blocked most of the sunlight, making the trail feel endless. To make sure that no one spotted us, we took a different route back, one with a path that was uneven with roots and fallen branches everywhere that slowed our progress. My head pounded with frustration. Trask took the lead, his eyes alert and rifle at the ready. The rest of the team followed close behind. Vera was behind me, whispering something under her breath, probably running through the breach scenario she was going to follow when we got back to camp. By the time we got back to base, I was tired and angry. The weight of the gear wasn’t helping. Trask wasted no time, barking orders to the team. "Nash, start setting up the perimeter." he ordered, pointing toward our scattered gear. "Turrets, drones, motion sensors, everything. We’re not taking any chances." We weren’t just here to catch some low-level clowns. We were here to outlast anyone else who came looking. Nash grunted in acknowledgment and moved toward the pile of equipment. Meanwhile, Jinx pulled out a few crates from the back of the tent, unpacking the heavier gear. He also unloaded a specialty weapon we'd been testing in recent field trials. By the time we were done, this place would be a fortress. While the others worked, I turned to Vera. "You know what to do." She nodded with a serious expression and dropped to her knees next to a field terminal. On our way back to camp, she'd noticed a section of network trunk running through the forest. We had made a quick stop to allow her to splice a lengthy spool of interface cable into it, and now, with a click, she secured the other end of it into one of her interface ports. She then connected another shorter cable from another of her interface ports into the terminal, which would allow the rest of us to see what she was seeing as she entered the network. I looked around again to ensure the team was still on task. Nash was in the midst of setting traps with old-fashioned monowire and EMP mines. Meanwhile, Jinx had finished securing his toys and was now setting up two portable turrets, one at each end of the camp, both armed with armor-piercing rounds. They’d be enough to hold off anyone for a while if things went south. Over in his tent, Davian was meticulously laying out his field triage kit in the unlikely event it was needed, though I wasn't expecting he'd need to treat anything worse than a hangnail. Trask ambled over to stand next to Vera and me. "Did I miss anything?" he asked. "No." I replied. "She's just about to go in." I turned back to Vera. The field display flickered to life as her cyberdeck entered the network. "Remember: cameras first." I ordered. "We need eyes on this whole forest." "Working on it." she said, biting her lip as the first floor hit the screen. "Biotechnica’s security isn’t a joke. Black ICE and demons everywhere." "Handle it." I ordered. The first firewall came up. It was standard fare. Vera dismantled its access code in seconds, cutting through the outer layer of encryption like it was paper. I watched the code melt away, the display shifting into a tunnel of data as she dove deeper into the network. Suddenly, the screen flared red. "Shit!" Vera cursed, her fingers freezing for a split second before moving faster through the air. "Black ICE. Program’s called Raven. It’s fast. It’ll fry my brain if I’m not careful." "Stay focused." I instructed her, keeping my voice calm but firm. She locked in a countermeasure, deploying a worm to keep the Raven busy, then launched a counter protocol. The Raven flared again, trying to burn through her defenses, but she stayed two steps ahead, luring it into a data loop. After a tense moment, the ICE flickered out. Gone. "Raven’s down." she sighed. "But there's two demons between me and the camera control node. I expect they're in charge of maintaining the surveillance in such a rural place." "Keep going." I ordered. "You’ve got this. Don't get zapped." Another wave of red flooded her screen—this time, it was a demon called Hellhound. It was a brutish program, designed to literally cause her cyberdeck to spontaneously combust if she wasn’t fast enough. Its claws sank into the network, cutting off paths and restricting access. I could see the strain on Vera’s face as she struggled to outmaneuver it. She gritted her teeth. "This one’s tough. It’s aggressive." I watched as she maneuvered, ducking between firewalls and launching counterattacks. Every time the Hellhound tried to lock down her processes, she broke free, but it was getting harder. She was running out of options. "You’re almost there." I urged, trying to push her forward. "Don’t stop now." She deployed a decoy program, buying herself a few seconds to reroute through an alternate path and reach the control node. The Hellhound snarled, lunging after the decoy. Meanwhile, Vera was already through, slipping past the final gateway into the control node. She exhaled sharply as the HUD on her screen shifted from red to green. "I’m in." she said triumphantly. "I’ve got control of their cameras." The screen lit up with grainy feeds from all over the forest. It wasn’t perfect. Some of the angles were bad, some cameras were covered in mist, but we had eyes now. Enough to know what was coming. Trask and I crouched down beside her, watching the feeds dip in and out. We looked upon a forest of black and white, the quiet broken only by the faint buzz of the drones hovering above us. "Good work, Vera." I said. "Now we wait." --- The sun was sinking fast by the time we heard it: the unmistakable hum of a chopper overhead, slicing through the evening sky. Trask noticed first, his eyes snapping up and narrowing at the sight of the sleek executive transport. Something like that shouldn't be out here. Not in the deep woods. "Vera!" I barked. "Find the cameras on that chopper’s route. I want to know where it’s going. Jinx, Nash, get on the weapons. Trask, your undivided attention, please." "Already scanning." Vera replied, her fingers working furiously over invisible controls in cyberspace. As the helicopter flew low, Vera switched between feeds, tracking it. Finally, on the field terminal, we saw it hovering over a clearing, its rotors kicking up dust and leaves. "Here we go." I said, leaning over Vera’s shoulder. "They’re landing." The doors of the chopper slid open, and we saw two figures step out: Rami Soraya and Steve Jenkins. They walked down into the clearing, followed by a pair of Biotechnica security guards. The camera dipped and hissed before cutting out, but we caught enough to know it wasn’t just a quick drop-off. Vera pulled up another feed. "More coming on foot from the other direction." she advised us. "It's Voss. And Franklin." "What?" I exclaimed. "Are you sure?" Vera just nodded. Trask leaned closer to the display and squinted at it. The camera zoomed in on the pair. It was unmistakable. Kathryn Franklin had arrived. I watched as the group came together in the clearing, right under the shadow of the helicopter’s blades. Even though we couldn’t hear them, the scene was clear. The scientist, Dr. Milica Shaw, from what we could tell, wasn’t wasting time. Her hands moved quickly, directing the group as if they were already behind schedule. Rami looked calm, as usual. Steve, not so much. Sammy stayed quiet, nodding along to whatever Shaw was saying. Kat looked tired, sweat-streaked, and annoyed, probably from the hike. If only she knew just how easy her life actually was right now, and how soon everything would change. "They’re getting briefed," Trask said, arms crossed. The downblast from the transport whipped through the trees, scattering all kinds of debris, but the scientist didn't seem phased. She was all business, handing out wristbands and keys, pointing toward a firewatch tower not too far from the landing site. Vera adjusted the feed, zooming out slightly. "Looks like they’re moving to another tower for the night." "Let’s keep following." I ordered, keeping my eyes glued to the feed. Vera switched cameras as the Biotechnica guards and Shaw boarded the helicopter. The group started to hike away from the landing site as they followed Shaw’s instructions, trudging through the dense trees. They kept a decent pace, and it wasn’t long before the replacement firewatch tower came into view, still intact, standing tall against the darkening sky. "They’ll be camping there?" I said, watching as they made their way up the ladder, the lift apparently out of business and making them haul their gear to the top. "What a dump." "Orders?" Trask asked. "We’ll wait." I replied, straightening up. "Not gonna interfere?" Nash asked, glancing at me. "Not yet." I said. "Let them get comfortable with their rain barrel and medieval toilet. We’ll watch. When the time’s right, we move." The night was coming fast, and so was the oncoming storm. We had eyes on them now. All we had to do was wait.

Saturday Afternoon, June 12, 2077 Fire Watch Tower Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California I sat down on a hammock and pulled my bag up next to me. I was looking for my shower things, but my bedding was in the way on top, crammed back into the "Instabed™ Deluxe" package it came in. "Rami, would you like to borrow my air bed, since you got the bad hammock?" I asked. "Thank you - if you don’t mind," Rami answered. He was digging through the filing cabinet that was our "pantry", taking stock of the food. I found a towel and the "guess what? chicken butt!" scrub pants that had been relegated to pajamas because Thrifty Care didn’t allow butt jokes ever since the malpractice suit. Then at the very bottom of my bag I found the Extreme Clean Head to Toe shower gel. I looked up, and Kat was holding a bottle with nearly identical graphics on a less shiny label that said X-tremely Clean Hair two Toes. She smirked and knocked her soap bottle against mine like we were doing a toast. "So, who’s going first?" I asked. "I guess we can figure out how it works together, and then one of us will take a walk?" So we climbed back down the very tall and probably not very safe ladder. I hoped no one fell down it while we were here - there was only so much you could do for a broken ankle in the woods, and we were an hour’s drive from the nearest town and a good long hike from the nearest road. Kat jumped down the last couple rungs ahead of me and made a sweeping gesture at the concrete pad under the rain barrel. "My dear sir, our spa experience awaits!" I hurried to the bottom and joined her under the tower, where a huge metal drum was welded onto the struts above us. "How does this thing even work?" "Well, there’s this chain here, so I think-" Kat pulled it, and about a gallon of cold water dumped on my head. "Oops," she whispered. I pushed the curtain of wet hair out of my eyes. "I guess I’m going first - the Great Rain Barrel has spoken." "Yeaaaaaah, I’ll, uh, go figure out what our toilet situation is." I tossed my stuff over one of the tower’s horizontal supports, and after Kat left I stripped and showered Navy style. The rain barrel’s only settings were "off" and "bucket of water falling on your head", so there wasn’t any other option. I dried off, put the clean pants on and wrapped up in the towel to keep warm, and called "Okay, I’m decent!" "Good," Kat called back, "’cause you need to check this out!" I followed her voice down a narrow trail to an outhouse that looked like it came out of a cowboy movie - it had the rough warped wood and moon shape cut in the door and everything. "Is that real?" "It sure smells real. Also, like something died in it!" I ventured closer, sniffed the moon-shaped hole, and gagged. "Oh god. I think someone hid a body in there. Do we need to dig a new outhose so we’re not desecrating a corpse?" "I think the stiff is already thoroughly desecrated," Kat said. "And probably not human." "Oh, right," I said stupidly. "Forest. Animals. You know, I was going to say that the shower made me appreciate your garden hose sprayer setup in the Surgery Shack bathroom. But now the entire place is well on its’ way to becoming home sweet biohazard comapred to here." "And fewer corpses in the commode," Kat said. "Probably." "Would you like me to stand guard for you, or should I warn the others about our bathroom situation?" "Go on up," Kat said, "I don't think my situation is more dire than anyone else's." So after we got back to the tower I went up the ladder and told Steve and Rami, "The shower is treasonous and the bathroom is a real outhouse that smells almost as bad as gangrene." "How can a shower be treasonous?" Rami asked. "Well, technically it's just not obvious where to stand to get wet or not get wet. But also it just dumps water on you." "Why were you expecting the outhouse to be fake?" Steve asked. "I... don't know what I was expecting? Anyway, what's the plan for dinner? Is there a way we can warm things up without starting a forest fire?"

Saturday, June 12, 2077 Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California Afternoon ___________________________ "You’re late." The voice was sharp, annoyed, and loud enough to be heard over the roar of the VL-11 Corporate Bus as Sammy and I emerged from the overgrown trail that was supposed to have been our easy trek from the parking lot. I dragged my rumpled tank top across my forehead in an attempt to cool down. It had been at least a kilometer and a half since I had stripped the thing off and tied it around my neck, using it to mop up the unrelenting streams of sweat pouring down my face. It wasn’t particularly hot here, but hauling a shitload of gear through the woods on a hike you hadn’t expected to take can change your definition of ‘hot’ pretty damn quick. "You must be Doctor Shaw," I gasped, dumping the two gear bags I was carrying on the ground and basking in the downwash of the helicopter. I closed my eyes, letting the blast of air cool my matted hair and soaked forehead. "And you," she admonished, "are underdressed. I can clearly see your nipples through that sports bra, Ms. Franklin. Very unprofessional." My eyes snapped open. The woman before me was the epitome of a high-strung head researcher. Dressed in a crisp, spotless lab coat, she had her long, black hair pulled up in a tight bun. Underneath the coat, she wore a pristine navy-colored blouse and a knee-length pencil skirt. I didn’t even want to know how she’d managed to keep from getting so much as a speck of dirt on her immaculate, high-heeled boots. "Yep," I sighed, raising my hands in a ‘what can you do’ motion. "And you’re clearly hung up on office dress code in the middle of a fucking forest. But hey, as long as my nipples go away, we can start this briefing, right?" In the background, I could see Rami and Steve disembarking the chopper, accompanied by the two Biotechnica security guards from Night City. Rami already had an ‘I can’t believe you just said that’ look on his face, though I don’t know how he could have known what I'd said. Maybe he had augmented hearing. Or maybe he just knew me better than I thought. Either way, Steve bounded toward us with reckless abandon, his ridiculously oversized gear bag slapping against his shoulders, back, and head, while Rami ambled toward us at a more measured pace. Meanwhile, the security guards took up position next to the landed aircraft, scanning the area for threats. "Oooh!" Steve cooed, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "I’ve always wanted to meet a real-life scientist. I’m Steve," he gushed, extending a hand. "Steve Jenkins. Oh, and that’s Rami Soraya. He’s a taxi driver." Doctor Shaw looked unimpressed. "A real taxi driver," Steve continued, oblivious to the icy response. "You can never be sure these days, can you? So, Doctor Shaw, I’ve gotta ask -" "Steve," Rami interjected, gently guiding him away, "not the time." "Right, right," Steve apologized, giving an exaggerated wink. Then in a hushed but still-too-loud whisper, he added, "Watch out for rickshaw drivers!" "Since we’re all here," Shaw huffed, "I’ll get right to the point. We believe that the wood pirates are operating from a hidden camp deep within the forest. Your mission is to identify them and where they’re coming from. Nothing more. The ecology must not be disturbed. The firewatch tower behind us will be your home and base of operations. It may not be as…luxurious…as you Night City folks are used to, but it should suffice." I shot a sideways glance at Rami, who shrugged and then responded with a pleading set of raised eyebrows, silently begging me not to provoke our client any further. I sighed, biting my lip as I looked around at the rustic tower. "No problem, Doc," Sammy offered, "we’re real outdoorsy types." Doctor Shaw responded with a placating grin before continuing. "The tower is stocked with the essential amenities you’ll need: food, beds, and water. There is a computer connected to a seismograph, a weather station, and our camera network, all of which you can use to monitor the forest’s activity. I expect you to do more than stare at the screens, however." "Don’t worry," Rami reassured her, "we’re not just pretty faces." A stand-offish look passed between Rami and the doctor. Great, I thought, we’re already making a fantastic first impression. Just what we need. "Pretty faces won’t cut it out here," Shaw replied, coldly, "I remind you: you’re here to identify the wood pirates, gather as much intel as possible, and above all else, do not disturb the ecology in any way, shape or form. The latter objective is arguably the most important. The Dalbergia, which, by the way, isn’t even native to this region, has been carefully acclimatized through genetic splicing to thrive in this environment, and we expect you to be especially careful around them." "Del…bergia?" I ventured, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. "Dal-bergia," Doctor Shaw corrected. "A large genus of small to medium-size trees, shrubs and lianas in the pea family, Fabaceae, subfamily Faboideae. They’re only found in the neotropical regions of the Americas, from the Chihuahuan Desert and southern New Mexico south to Argentina. In other words, they shouldn’t be here. There are also dense populations of mahogany and Sequoia." "Right," I deadpanned, "that makes perfect sense now." "Ms. Franklin, while you might not take seriously the work we’re doing here, I assure you, this forest is of unspeakable value to Biotechnica, and the scientific community at large," Shaw said, her voice taking on an icy edge. "Decades ago, this area was a national forest. It died. We - and we alone - have brought it back to life. And now, we’re on the cusp of incredible breakthroughs, and we will not let a bunch of opportunistic thieves derail that work." "We understand," Rami interjected, "We’ll tread as lightly as possible." "See that you do. You have five days, and try not to kill each other in the process. Here are your keys and wristbands. The former will grant you access to the firewatch tower, the latter will allow you to move around the forest without setting off our security systems." Doctor Shaw handed us a set of keys, an assortment of wristbands, and a long-range radio. "This radio will connect you directly to our monitoring station. If you have any emergencies, or when you’re ready for extraction, don’t hesitate to use it. Are we clear?" she asked, her tone leaving no doubt she was glad the briefing was over. "Crystal," Rami affirmed. "Good. I’ll leave you to it, then." Shaw snapped, and with that, she turned on her heel and marched back to the helicopter. "Well," Sammy offered, looking at the wristbands, "four tickets to paradise, eh?" "You know it," I responded, raising my voice to be heard over the roar of the ascending helicopter. "Let’s check out the digs." - - - The alternate site wasn’t exactly anything to brag about. The watchtower was constructed from fireproof materials and had a center lift, which was, conveniently, incompatible with the access key given to us. Fortunately, there was also a ladder leading to the top, up which we dragged all of our gear. The access key did, mercifully, open the tower. The inside was spartan, far more than anything I’d ever seen before, but it did offer a 360-degree view of the forest. There was also a solar panel that provided basic power to the computers and the communication units that enabled their connection to the larger forest network. The beds turned out to be hammocks - cheap affairs that, unfortunately, couldn’t bear the weight of anyone with more than one cyberlimb, as poor Rami discovered the hard way. "Shit," he cursed, as he fell through the ancient webbing and onto the cold, hard floor. "Where’s all the furniture?" Steve protested. "There’s at least two metal folding chairs in front of the computers," Sammy offered. "Let’s prioritize things," Rami interjected. "Food." "I hate to tell you this," I replied as I perused the only indication of a pantry, "but we’re eating freeze-dried no-fucking-matter-flavor for the next week." "You’ve gotta be kidding me," Steve whined. Rami chuckled. "Not exactly the Ritz, my friends. We’ll survive." I sighed, glancing down at my sweat-stained clothing. "I need a shower." "Shit, me too," Sammy concurred. "Head downstairs to the rain barrel," Rami suggested, wincing as he saw the expressions on our faces. "There isn’t even a sink." "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Steve shrieked, looking genuinely appalled. "You wanted a camping trip, choom," I quipped. "Looks like you got your wish." "Camping trip my ass," he grumbled.

Saturday June 12, 2077, Afternoon Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California ___________________________ The blades of the VT-11 continue to beat above us as we fly over the dark forest. The sound of the rotors are drowning out most of the noise inside the cabin, except for the woman in the back, still puking in the bathroom. I never saw someone so airsick as she. But I had bigger worries. The air was thick, tense, like everyone was waiting for something to go wrong. I was used to that feeling, made me stay sharp. Big Johnson was sitting across from me, his arms crossed, staring out the window. Steve sat beside me, his leg bouncing nervously. "Next logical hit’s here," Big Johnson had said a while ago when we were reviewing the landing site. Remember, just get the intel on who’s behind it. Dead or alive? We don’t need to know. But don’t disturb the ecology." Easier said than done. In a place like this, you disturb the forest just by breathing. I looked out the window again. Over the treetops the mist is hanging, low, thick and heavy, like whole forest is concealing something. "Almost there," he said, mostly to himself. I looked out the window, scanning the treetops below. Rockefeller Forest stretched out beneath us like a green sea, endless and thick. But something wasn’t right. I could see it now. The place we were supposed to go. The firewatch tower, or what was left of it. The structure was completely collapsed, a jumble of wood and metal scattered across the clearing. "That’s not supposed to happen," I said with a frown. "The fuck?" Big Johnson blurted as he looked out over Steve's shoulder. Steve leaned forward, looking close at at the wreckage. "That’s where we’re supposed to meet, right?" "No," Big Johnson replied, "Looks like plans just changed." He disappeared up front, probably to talk to the pilots, while the other guard just watches us with a worried look. We made circles round the site for a while, no one telling us what is happening. Eventually Big Johnson burst back into the passenger area and slammed the door. "I assume bad news," I said. "For you? Maybe. That is beyond my control, though," he said as his huge frame fell back down into his seat. Suddenly, the VT-11 made a sharp turn and began to fly in another direction. "We are diverting to a backup site. As you can see, this one had...an issue." "An issue we should be worried about?" I ask with my eyebrow raised. "No," said Big Johnson, "only an issue if you had been inside it at the time." Somehow these words did not reassure me. "Do you have coordinates?" I asked as I got out my short range Combat Cab emergency radio. I did not wish to use it if there was a chance the pirates may hear us, but I could not leave Kat and Sammy in the wilds without direction. "Yes, but if you are trying to direct the people who decided not to fly with us, you will have to do it visually," said Big Johnson. I looked at him as if he were completely mad. "Visually? There are nothing but trees out there!" Steve interrupts. "No land marks! Look, green. Green. Green. Also, green. Dead thing. Green. Green green green. You got street signs?" Big Johnson said nothing. I sigh and turn on my radio. At this time, Big Johnson tosses me a compass. Old thing, no electronics. Crude, but working. I pressed the button on my Combat Cab radio, knowing it might not reach, but I had to try. "Kat, you copy?" No reply but hissing of static. I tried again, many times. Big Johnson eventually said, "We're almost there. You better put that away and prepare to go." Suddenly, there was another crackle of static, her voice came through, faint but clear enough. "Yes, Rami. What’s up?" I kept my voice quiet. "Our tower’s down. Collapsed. We’re heading to another. It’s far. I will have to guide you in." Quiet, then she speaks again, she is more frustrated this time. "We had to park the car a ways back, Rami. We’re on foot now. Just started to go into the trees. Not even a quarter of the way towards the first site. With all of the shit we are carrying this is gonna be rough." "Yeah," I said, looking at the trees below. "I know. Is not close. But we need you. You got Sammy with you?" "He’s here, but we don’t know this place. It’s dense and dark. You need to guide us, step by step." "OK," I said, getting up and moving from window to window in the cabin, trying to keep my orientation to where I remembered the main access road to be. "If you are where I believe you are, first, head West. You’ll hit a narrow path. Stay on it, but be careful, it’s not a road, just a trail. Move slow, but don’t stop." "West. Got it," she replied, her voice shaky. "We’re moving but for how long?" I looked again, I see another line in the trees that is probably water. "Keep moving. It will open up a bit. When you see a stream, turn right. The trail splits there." It took a long time, the whole time, Big Johnson is telling me we have to land. I wave him off, telling Steve to explain we must stay in the air so I can see where to go. I can hear them moving, branches snapping, Sammy saying things I can't understand. After a long time, then Kat’s voice again. "We see it. Turning right." "Good," I said. "Now follow that trail. It will be uphill but stick to it. You’re climbing a ridge soon. Once you clear it, you’ll see the tower." "Rami, this place...the trees are thick. Can barely see ahead. We are barely making it through. If this is a trail it is the worst kept trail I have ever seen," Kat complained. The radio signal shifted in and out, like the battery was dying. "OK, we are almost up the ridge." "Not far now," I say, calculating. "Just keep going. You’ll climb to the top of that hill, then it’s straight to the tower." The radio crackled again, but I heard her sigh. "We are trusting you." "keep moving." I said. "You are doing a good job. We will meet you at the new tower." I let go of the mic, staring out the window as the helicopter descended to the new site. I hoped my hiking directions were as good as my driving directions, the trees below still looked quiet, but I knew better.

June 12, 2077 (Saturday) Medford Rail Depot Medford County, California Afternoon ___________________________ The maglev came to a soft halt as Medford Depot slid into view. The building was old, but not in a bad way. Its red bricks glowed softly under the midday sunlight, worn with age but still holding a certain charm. The peeling paint on its beams and the weathered wooden platforms felt like something out of a postcard. The place wasn’t fancy, but it had character, like an old friend who’s been around too long to care about keeping up appearances. We disembarked, Sammy following in close stride next to me, fidgeting as he gazed ahead at the automobiles the rail workers were unloading. The vehicles looked sleek and modern, all shiny panels and straight lines against the rustic backdrop of the station. "Think they’ll be done soon?" he asked, shifting his weight. "Should be," I replied, glancing around. "We’ve got a nice drive ahead. Glad the booze turned out to be synthetic after all." "You’re good to drive?" Sammy asked. "Yeah," I responded. "Checked my biomonitor after the nap. Bartender was plying me with the cheap stuff. Half-life wasn’t even a full hour. Great way to keep the customer money flowing in, I guess." Sammy nodded. The station was peaceful, not a warzone like I first thought. The workers moved slowly, but they were methodical, carefully driving the cars down a cargo ramp, past the rail platform, and out into the parking lot beyond. Despite the earlier ominous station announcement, it was quiet. I didn’t even see any cops or hired mercenary goons guarding the depot. Beyond the station, you could see Medford town, tucked behind some hills. The rooftops of small homes dotted the landscape, and you could almost make out the outline of a few small shops. A soft breeze blew through, carrying with it a bouquet of pine and wildflowers. Birds chirped lazily overhead, and the sky, while a little gray, didn’t feel heavy. It was like the promise of rain was just that…a promise. Maybe it would come, maybe it wouldn’t. I’d never been in a place like this. I’d only ever known Night City, corporate environments, and, on the rare occasions when my parents could actually snag time off and weren’t too beaten down or broke to handle an outing, the outskirts of Pasadena. This was my first time seeing anything like it in person. It felt alive in its own way, just slower than we were used to. We walked through a set of grand old doors leading into the depot itself. When we pushed them open, they creaked, a deep, groaning sound that echoed through the nearly empty hall. The air had a faint scent of old wood and dust, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It smelled like memories, like a place where people had come and gone for years, leaving behind only the echo of their footsteps. Then, I froze in surprise as my eyes adjusted and I realized that whoever was managing Medford Station had an almost obsessive dedication to maintaining its original frontier charm. Despite there being a screamingly cutting-edge Night City maglev alongside the platform outside, the old, long-slung structure looked like something pulled straight out of the past. Hues of soft blue paint and dark, warm mahogany adorned the walls. Rows of old-fashioned, green padded benches with curved, polished wooden armrests hugged both sides of our path, and there was a wide counter up front, where station workers once sold tickets to travelers. Now, a small throng of people queued there to retrieve their car fobs and continue on their merry ways. Sammy and I joined the line, shuffling forward. "It’s kinda like being in a movie, huh?" he asked, snapping me out of my contemplation. "Yeah, I guess so," I replied, shaking my head. "But c’mon, Piñata. We’ve both seen the movies. Pretty places like this always hide something…" I trailed off as my gaze fell on a large clock hung over the entrance, its brass frame still shining in the light of long, narrow windows, the hands stuck at a time long forgotten. Sammy nodded as we stepped up to the counter. "True, but hey," he flashed a nervous smile, "at least we’ll look good while it kills us horribly." I couldn’t resist chuckling at that, and together, we stepped up to retrieve the fob to the VersiWagon. Sammy surrendered the claim check to a bored-looking attendant who barely glanced at it before handing over his keychain in exchange. "There you go, folks," she mumbled, motioning with one long-nailed finger to the parking lot in front of the depot. "Your ride’s parked in space 88." After a quick bio break, we emerged into the late afternoon sunlight, where I glanced back at the station one last time. Its yellow paint, though faded and chipped in places, still shone, casting a warm glow across the neatly maintained grounds. "Hey, there’s the car," I heard Sammy announce, pointing to a spot near the roadway. "We ready to roll?" "Yeah," I acknowledged, adjusting my bag. "Let’s get moving." Stowing our gear, we climbed into the car, Sammy at the wheel. "I thought I was driving?" I asked, perplexed. "Aren’t you supposed to be perpetually exhausted out of your mind and all that?" Sammy shrugged. "Eh, I actually feel pretty good right now. Must be all the fresh air." "Fair enough." I conceded, buckling my seatbelt. The engine clattered to life, momentarily breaking the calm of the parking lot. Meanwhile, I pulled up the coordinates for our trip to Rockefeller Forest with a small smile. Ultimately, we were here to do a job, but for the moment, the road trip felt more like an adventure. The VersiWagon trundled onto the street leading out of town, the station slowly receding in the rearview mirror. The little road stretched ahead of us, bumpy with potholes. Trees flanked its sides, towering evergreens that seemed to wave lazily as we passed. Their branches swayed in the breeze, casting shadows that danced over the car. The further we drove, the more the landscape opened up. Rolling hills dotted with clusters of trees stretched out as far as the eye could see. Wildflowers painted the sides of the road in bursts of yellow, purple, and blue. The sky was starting to lighten up a bit, the dull gray giving way to patches of soft blue peeking through the clouds. Along the way passed through a small village. It was quaint and quiet, with shops that had hand-painted signs and locals who seemed to be in no rush at all. Kids ran through the streets, chasing each other in laughter, and an old man sat on a porch, waving at us as we drove by. "You ever been out here before?" Sammy asked, his eyes flicking between the road and the GPS. "Not this far north," I replied. "Not to this part of the state. It’s…charming." Sammy smiled, taking in the view. "I don’t disagree." Eventually, we started to see highway signs directing travelers to the site that used to be Humboldt Redwoods State Park - back before the time of the Red. Now, what had once been a nature preserve was home to one of Biotechnica’s reference forests, a desperate attempt by the corporation to rebuild what had been lost - and make whatever additional profits they could off the work. The VersiWagon bounced over a particularly deep pothole, and the underside of the car let out a protesting groan. Sammy winced, and I suppressed a laugh. "What?" he asked defensively. "What’s so funny about both me and the car busting our asses out here in the middle of nowhere?" I held up my hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, I’m not laughing at you or Grape, I promise." "Well, good," Sammy huffed, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "I mean, I do hope Rami and Steve are having a smoother ride, stuck up there in that fancy helicopter," I added slyly. Sammy laughed out loud at that, and I joined him. A moment of levity felt good, especially as the road straightened out, became much smoother, and the GPS beeped. A hologram appeared on the car’s windshield as though suspended in the air ahead of us: Welcome to Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 - Restoring Nature, Rebuilding the Future. CORPORATE ACCESS ONLY: USE OF DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED. The trees started to thicken as we approached the gate, their branches reaching out like giant arms trying to shield us from the outside world. Where that wasn’t possible, a towering, grotesque security fence topped with razor wire and dimly glowing red warning lights did the job. The canopy above was already casting everything in a soft green light even as the road to the approach narrowed, becoming more of a trail scattered with security barriers. "Think Rami and Steve are already in there?" he asked. "Probably," I said. "Sucks to not have comms. Wonder how long it’ll take us to reach them." We slowed to a stop in front of a squat concrete pillbox, the only sign of human habitation for miles. "They’ll probably have things set up by the time we get there," Sammy reassured me. We would soon find out.

MEANWHILE…… We had been flying for HOURS and I was Getting really board, after I Had told Big Johnson about all of my Cyberwares and he told me about his and then Rami told us about his cyberwares, there wasnt really a lot to do except listening to the lady barfing in the Bathroom and count the number of different Noises I could hear coming from inside of there, I think by the time we we halfway to Medford I was up to 25 different Sounds and 2 of them sounded like she was trying to give Birth to something that shouldnt have been Coming out that way. Finally Rami spoke up and said "Steve where the Hell is Kuzuu County anyway, I have Never heard of it" I thought about it for a Moment and then I Realized Rami was a Taxi driver and you would think he would know geography Things so I said "WELL, its right down the road from Atchison, Kansas, my dad BJ and my mom Marlene are Dirt Farmers there so I know the Area like the back of my hand, my aunt Baolim and my Uncle Iroh and my cousins Liukang and Raiden and uncle Zhangwo and also my little brother Mikey all live there, the farm is right down the road from the Sledge House and the Kuzuu Karnivale, I used to work there one Summ-" at this Point there was a HUGE hork that came from inside the Bathroom and Big Johnson said "HEY you alright inside of there??" and banged his fist on the door, then the door opened a crack and a pair of Lips stuck out and oh my the smell also, the lips said "NO I need Weak Beer and some tarter sauce to fix my Stomach." WELL then Big Johnson said I dont think we have Tartar Sauce on the plane but we hve lots of bad Beer" THEN the lips said "GET ME TARTAR SAUCE and a lot of It or so help me I will puish You all with my puke" and then BAM the lips slammed the door shut again, Big Johnson looked at Rami and me and shrugged And said "I think we might be in for a Bumpy ride" Then I said "OH HEY that thing about the Bumpy ride, it made me think of the Electric Goat races in Kuzuu" Rami got real interested and said "NO WAY, I didnt Think they made any electric goats anymore, I thought that was all lost in the Metal Wars" "WELLLLL…" *BEGIN FLASHBACK* It is Kuzuu, 5 years ago, and I am outside watching the Sun go down behind my dad BJ’s barn, me and Mikey were sitting on upside down buckets watching Uncle Iroh try not to Electrocute himself on the electric goat he was rebuilding, him and my dad BJ had found in a Junkyard, a Kawasaki Super Toaster Goat 7, the one with the lower center of Gravity. It kept making eclctric Noises and sparked a lot, with wires sticking out of its legs like it had been put back together from leftover Junk, Which it had been. "Uncle Iroh I THINK that goat’s gonna blow" I said and I leaned back to make my Point, I didnt know if I was more afraid of the Goat exploding or the fact that Uncle Iroh was about to try driving it. Meanwhile I had to try and slap it. "I got it under control!" Uncle Iroh hollered, a bunch of Sparks were coming out of the goat’s neck and lighting the dirt on fire when they fell. "You sure you want to do this Iroh?" Said Uncle Zhangwo, "The last time we thought Sparky was under control, we turned Aunt Baolim’s Laundry shed into a Crater the size of a small pond." THEN Mikey said "do you think Sparky is going to Win this time?" "WHAT??" I laughed and then I said "Sparky is a Toaster with legs!!!" "Hey!" My dad BJ shot, pointing a Screwdriver at me. "That toaster has more Horespower than ypour old Death Board" Before he could say anything else Uncle Iroh hollered it was time to test Sparky so I got off the bucket and walked over to and gave it a Look like the one Mikey does when he’s about to Slap fiight with me, "It doesnt look fixed, I can knock Sparky thing out with one hit." "Steve no not yet!!!" "Too late!" I hauled off and slapped Sparky right across the nose, BZZZZZZAMP The electric Shock made me see my own skeleton inside my body, then I went FLYING backwards, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" I Screamed as I did a mid air flip and I landed right on both of my butts, hard. A pile of hay flew up in the air and then landed on my face, the smoke coming off my shirt smelled like old socks, Mikey walked over and looked down at me and pushed me with his foot. "Steve are you dead???" Uncle Zhangwo ran over to me, or at least I think thats him because my vision was blurry. "It was worth a shot!!" I said. "Alright son" my dad BJ intoned, "Now that you have learned your Lesson you can help Uncle Iroh get Sparky Revved up and down to the Rink on the edge of Feng Lao’s farm, it is Friday night and if we DONT screw around we can enter him in the Electric Goat Beer Can Derby" "Do you mean the same place me and Mikey and Robbie Panshovel were doing the Pee on the Electric Fence challenge and Robbie shocked his own junk??" I asked, "I did not need to know that Steve, yes, that is where the RInk is this time on account of the last Rink burned to the ground and took out all of Feng Lao’s beets" SO a few minutes later me and Mikey and Uncle Iroh had took Sparky down to the field RIGHT as the sun finished setting, there were Other Electric Goat owners who had their goats lined up under the Beer Can/bottle string lights, 1 had a propeller strapped to its back, another had wheels instead of hooves, and 1 was 1/2 goat 1/2 blender, the field was full of malfunctioning Machine noises and smelled like Burning mixed with Manure. Uncle Zhangwo had went back to the house on account of Aunt Baolim told him if he didnt get inside for Dinner she was going to put him in the Wood Chipper. After the Announcer who was a Farmer called Dingo finished playing the tape of WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS on the old speaker they had wired up he shouted "OK FOLKS LET’S GET IT ON!!!" Then he shot a HUGE hand gun in the air and All of the Electric Goats EXPLODED toward each other, there was a buttload of smoke and Toast shooting out of Sparky’s toaster and I could see it was glowing, everybody was screaming and cheering, there was a TON of screeching wheel Noises and 1 goat immediately lit on Fire, uncle Iroh looked like a Madman with the Controller in his hands steering Sparky with the Joy Sticks and Dials, Mikey was yelling something I couldn’t hear over the NOISE, and I was bent over laughing so hard I thought I would pee myself. The fire goat rammed into a tractor tire and exploded into flames,"GO SPARKY!!!!" My brother Mikey hollered and was jumping up and down, but then my dad BJ pointed at the most TERRIBLE thing, Sparky had went out of the Rink on accident and was going straight at Feng Lao’s farm!!! "UNCLE IROH NO!!!" My dad BJ Hollered. I started to try to take the controller, but before I could finish, Sparky crashed into the fence with a CLANG and SMASHED through to the other side, there was fence pieces flying everywhere, Meanwhile the other Goats were still in the rink, 1 had flipped over onto its back and was kicking its legs everywhere and the blender goat was shredding the grass as it was Twirling around in circles. "THE GOATS ARE WINNING!!" I screamed in Fear, Uncle Iroh was totally spaced out and frozen on the controls, meanwhile Thunderbolt which was the Goat with wheels wrecked into a rock and went Flipping into the air, it almost ran over Uncle Iroh but my dad BJ pushed him out of the way RIGHT as the Goat flew past, it wrecked in Feng Lao's field with a HUGE crash. THEN, Sparky’s toaster shot out a Last flaming slice of toast that landed RIGHT in Feng Lao's wheat crop and lit it on fire. "NOOOO!!!" I heard Feng Lao yelling as he RAN out of his Farm house and was flailing his arms at the fire trying to put it out, "My wheat!!!" "SATAN IS DRIVING THAT ROBOT" A Guy yelled, "HIS NAME IS IROH NOT SATAN!!" My brother Mikey hollered "Somebody do something!!!!!!!!" some lady Screamed. "Like what????" I shot, "We’re in the middle of a Field with a crop FULL of On Fire toast!" But right at that Time Uncle Iroh spaced back in "I got this," he slurred, then he Shambled beck to the barn, he grabbed the old water hose, then he came back with it and aimed it at the fire and then the end of the hose blew off, which made Uncle Iroh completely Soaked froom head to toe, then the water simply failed and slowly stopped coming out of the hose in a Sad dribble. I couldn’t help it, me and Mikey and my dad BJ laughed hard. EVENTUALLY the fire department came out and got the fire under control, and Sparky was a smoking pile of Parts, the rest of the goats were shut off and/or destroyed, and Feng Lao was stood in the middle of the field staring at the Wreckage of his wheat field. "Next time" he said without looking at anyone Specific, "Just strap a microwave to it, maybe that will help." *END FLASHBACK* "Wow, that story is crazy insane, I think only in Kuzuu can electric goat races end with burning toast and a Electrocution," Rami said, Big Johnson also shook his head yes, in the bathroom I just heard more Horking noises. "Yep it's a crazy place, not crazy ike Night City, but it has its moments," I said. "Hey maybe for our Next job we can help Feng Lao defeat the Wheat Pirates." Then I ate a piece of bread to make my Point.

Previously..... June 11, 2077 (Friday) Somewhere North of Night City, California Daytime ___________________________ The rules had changed. Biotechnica had come knocking, and I saw an opportunity: the perfect cover to finally capture her. Professor McKinnell’s request was simple enough: stop a few rogue "wood pirates" from cutting into Biotechnica’s profits. Pirates, eco-saboteurs, maybe even Green Fist. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Kat would find this job irresistible. She always had a tendency to involve herself in anything that smelled like rebellion. This time, I would use that against her. Biotechnica might think they were the good guys here, protecting their precious Reference Forests, but in the shadows, we were playing a different game. They would get their pirates, sure, but I wasn’t interested in some backwoods thieves with chainsaws. My prize was bigger: Kathryn Marie Franklin. A rebel, a wildcard, and someone I could no longer allow to roam free. I boarded the Atlus, sleek and armed to the teeth—a fortress with wings. "Ready?" Trask, my second-in-command, gave me a curt nod. "Pirates. Should be fun." I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. "We’re not here for fun. We’re here for results. Stick to the plan." The VTOL lifted off, the ground falling away as we powered north. My m cyberdeck synced with Trauma Team's feed, bringing up satellite imagery of the forest. Site RF003 stretched out below: endless trees, untouched by human hands save for Biotechnica’s controlled logging operations. Somewhere in that expanse, the wood pirates would strike, and when they did, we’d be waiting. Trask tried again, "Could be enjoyable. Taking down some big shot for a change." I ignored him. Kat wasn’t the threat he imagined her to be. She was a nuisance, dangerous, unpredictable. And she had humiliated me one too many times. --- The AV hummed beneath my feet as we flew over kilometers of untouched wilderness, on course for Reference Forest RF003. We had two hours until we touched down, but the plan had already begun to unfold in my head. We’d be there well before Kat and her crew. By the time they arrived, we’d be hidden in the trees, ready to strike. Kat saw herself as the underdog, but this time she was walking into a carefully laid trap. Biotechnica just wanted their wood pirates identified. But me? I wanted her. I didn’t care about the eco-criminals. Trask was checking his equipment, always scanning, calibrating his targeting systems. He was efficient, a man of few words, and that’s why I kept him around. "How long are we staying?" he asked, his eyes still on his smartgun. "As long as it takes. Could be a day, could be three. The pirates usually hit at night, but Kat’s the wildcard. We move when she moves." He nodded, satisfied. Trask knew his place, and so did I. His job was to cover our rear and manage the ambush if things went South. There would be complications. There always were with her. I looked around the AV at my team, handpicked by Trauma Team for their specialized skills. We weren’t here just to fight; we were here to win. Trask, my rock, ex-Special Forces, armed with a smartgun and monowire. Nash, my tech expert, was tall and scruffy, already running diagnostics on the surveillance drones strapped to his arm. His drones would give us complete coverage of the forest. Vera, our netrunner, was young but sharp, her cyberdeck capable of running multiple programs at once. She would lock down Kat’s digital footprint. Davian, our medtech, grizzled and competent, would keep us patched up if necessary. Then there was Jinx, the fixer. He wasn’t officially on Trauma Team’s payroll, but he owed me enough favors to show up. Jinx handled the messy side: interrogation, supplies, the details we’d need to ensure Kat’s capture. --- The Atlus began its descent. The engines shifted as we approached the landing zone. Through the viewport, I could see the forest stretching below...dark, vast, and foreboding. "Landing in five," the pilot announced. I stood, adjusting the tactical harness across my chest. The sense of control settled over me. The Atlus touched down in a clearing. The ramp lowered, and the cool, damp air of the Pacific Northwest rushed in. The scent of pine filled my senses. It was peaceful, but that wouldn’t last. "Set up camp," I ordered, stepping off the ramp. "Nash, get the drones up. Vera, secure a link with Biotechnica’s surveillance. Trask, start setting the traps. Jinx, you’re on interrogation if we catch anyone." Everyone moved without a word. We’d done this a hundred times. The ambush wouldn’t be laid until tomorrow, though. Kat wouldn’t arrive for at least another day. As I watched the team fan out into the trees, I allowed myself a small smile. Kat thought she could outsmart everyone, but this time, I was writing the rules. --- Dusk settled in. Vera, jacked into Biotechnica’s network, murmured, "No signal spikes yet." "That will change at some point," I replied. "Just keep watching." Jinx was quiet, his gear ready. Containment cuffs, sleep gas grenades, and the neurostim collar were all unpacked. And, me? Trauma Team had taken care of me. I wasn’t going to be sleeping in the dirt like the rest of the team. My tent, more like a portable luxury suite, had been unpacked. It was equipped with an inflatable queen-sized bed, holo-projector, and minibar stocked with real alcohol. Trask smirked as he walked past. "Glamping again, Talbot?" I shrugged. "I’m not about to sleep in the dirt." "Camp’s secure." "Good," I replied. "Set shifts. We move when they do." I stepped into the tent and poured a glass of whiskey, taking a moment to enjoy the calm before the storm. As I drank, I scanned the perimeter, feeling the cool air on my skin. Everything was in place. --- The whiskey slid down smoothly, cold against the back of my throat as I stared out into the darkened forest. The quiet around me was absolute, broken only by the occasional rustle of the trees or the faint hum of the surveillance drones overhead. In the distance, the team’s chatter was minimal. They were professionals, and they knew the score. The waiting game had begun, and we’d play it until our target walked right into our net. I swirled the booze in my glass, the ice clinking softly, and my mind drifted to the piece of gear sitting in the next tent over: the cryo chamber. The "box," as Trask called it. Compact, high-end, and customized for a very specific purpose: containment. I’d had it specially commissioned for this mission. Trauma Team didn’t know about it, not officially. Its sleek metal shell was a perfect contradiction to the chaos that she had caused. One press of a button and it would lower her body temperature in seconds, forcing her into a deep cryosleep. An end to her constant evasion. To bend her to my specific will. She had slipped through my fingers too many times. Hostile netrunners, with all their clever tricks, usually didn’t survive long in my world, but this one was different. She was unpredicatlbe, erratic, always somehow, through dumb luck, three steps ahead. But even the smartest game pieces eventually get captured. The box would make sure of that. It would mean no more running, no more hiding in the net, no more tricks. Once she was in, she wouldn’t be able to jack into anything, no cyberdecks, no neural links, nothing. The chamber itself was fitted with EMP shielding, designed to suppress any signal she might try to generate from the inside. Even if she had a backup plan, it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t feel a thing, wouldn’t even dream. Just endless, cold silence. Until I needed her mind. Or until I decided we didn't need it anymore. I could already picture her face when we caught her: defiant, maybe even smug. She always thought she was so damn clever, always thought she could outwit everyone. But then - box time. Everything changes. The thought brought a small, cold smile to my lips. Of course I wanted her alive, for interrogation, intel, all the usual reasons. But I also wanted her out of the game. She had been a thorn in my side for too long. I drained the last of the whiskey, feeling the burn settle in my chest. Maybe, once I had what I needed, I’d keep her around for a while, even visit her from time to time, just to see if her expression changed. My eyes shifted back toward the forest. She was probably already here, somewhere out there in the darkness, thinking she was about to pull off another righteous job. Maybe she even thought she’d outsmarted me again. But that was the beauty of it. This whole thing was a honeypot, and she had no idea. This was the endgame, the final play. I set the glass down, feeling the weight of the moment. The camp was quiet now, the team settling in for the night. As I looked out into the stillness of the forest, I let the thought linger: Soon, she’ll be mine.

MEANWHILE… The AV SHOT into the air, It took off SO Fast that I thought my stomach was going to Stay behind especially on account of I felt my body get PINNED back against the seat, I grabbed the Armrests until my knuckles turned white. Me and Rami were all alone on the AV except for the 2 Security guys, the pilot, the co-pilot, and I THINK the Corpo lady we had met but I didnt see her anywhere even though I heard someone Horking up in the bathroom, anyway the one Security guy banged his fist on the wall and yelled "STOP FLYING LIKE AN ASSHOLE" and the Pilot in the COCKPIT yelled back "DON’T MAKE ME TURN THIS BABY AROUND" I guess they flew together before because the next thing I Knew I could Breathe again. I looked over at Rami who was looking out the window, he looked like he did this everyday oh wait that's right he probably DID do this every day on account of being a Combat Cab combat guy. "Is this your First time flying??" One of the Security guys, the huger one, said to me as he ripped open a bag of Pork Ass Pork and Rinds and jammed his huge fist inside it, "No" I said "I went up in AVs an Assload of times when I was in the Militech" "OH you worked for Militech, who was your Supreme Commander??" the guy asked, at least I think thats what he said, his mouth was so full of Pork Ass Pork and Rinds that it kind of sounded like "OOOO OOROKD FOR MILLIPECKER, WHO WAAAAAY OOO SUPURAAM COMANDER??" Either way I told him "General "Ironass" McGee" and he looked at me like I had just Grew 2 extra pairsso I Knew I must have said the Right thing. "You a funny guy" he said as he went back to eating his Pork Ass Pork and Rinds "I know Ironass got blew up stepping on a Land Mine, I got my eyes on you, funny guy" "Yeah of course he did, HOW do you think I got my Battle Injury?" I said pointing at my general butt area, I was NOT going to pull my pants down and show him my butt but I wanted him to get the Point, so I made a hand motion like I was pulling my pants down in Slow-motion and he got the message "Oh, Sorry about that" he said, "I didnt know you were the guy that had an Issue in the middle of a Minefield." Then he stuffed his remaining Pork Ass Pork and Rinds into his mouth with one hand and offered to shake with the other, which I did, he squeezed my hand hard enough to leave an indentation. "The Names Steve by the way" I said, "Just haven't been in the air in a while, when I was in Militech I hated flying but you gotta do what you gotta do to make ends meet." "Trust me, once we get out there and see the view of the Redwoods before we dump you out its Worth it, I’m SGT Johnson but my friends call me BIG JOHNSON" he said. "Really? That must rock when you introduce yourself in bars with the Ladies" I said. "You have NO idea" he said, then he said "You got any sweet Cyberware?" "Well I got a Cyber Audio Suite with a Internal Agent" I said as I tapped the back of my ear "On account of I kept dropping my phone in The Toilet and also I got a Gang Jazzler on account of I kept getting mugged by the Defendants at Law Court, um also I have a Cyberliver and sone Turn-On-Show-Off Nails, other than that all I got is a KILL display which I havent turned on on account of I havent had any KILLS lately, oh also I have Heuristic Health Monitor and a Poser Chip and a Animal Behaviour Chip and a DeathTrance in case the Gang Jazzler or the Animal Chip has Failure, I’m mostly a Fixer so I dont really need a bunch of the Combat Augs." Big Johnson went cross eyed like he was thinking about it and Then he said "WELL all of That sounds pretty useless, Ive got the Full Package, Gorilla Arms, Cybersnake, Cyberskull, Hidden Holster, Combat Jaw, Combat Tail, Dragon Plating, Skate Feet, Wolvers, Rippers, I even got a Arc Thrower. And a JUMP PACK. Haha, Sgt. Danger has landed" Johnson said pointing to his crotch as he said it. "I even got a MR. STUDD." "WOW thats a lot of Hardware" I said, "But why would you need that?" I asked, "You cant get an E-rection?" "LOL" he said, then I looked at Rami, "How about you Rami???" Rami didnt say anything, at first, he was too busy looking out the window, then I said again "How about you Rami??" THEN Rami said "NO steve I do not have a MR. STUDD, I do not need a MR. STUDD." Then I said "I Wasnt talking about your Junk Rami I was asking about your Augs!" "Oh sorry" he said, "I was watching the Gang Wars, theyre beautiful in the Morning." Then he pointed out the Window, I wanted to see what was so interesting but I was strapped in, so I asked "Which Gangs is that Rami?" "Its the Metal Hearts and the Viper Cartel, theyre fighting over turf again, right now it looks like Metal Wars is winning, but theyve always been better with Gorenade launchers, the Vipers are more Pistols and SMGs." "No Shit" I said, "You know a lot about Gangs Rami." "I was part of one, a long time ago, before it was now. I believe they are called the Evil Horseman now, I dont know, I havent been in a gangwar since I was in the Barrens." He said. Then he said "Oh it looks like they all stopped fighting on account of we made a Sonic Boom when we flew over them and now theyre all Deaf" "WOW you should tell us about your Gang Times" I said, then Big Johnson nodded and he ripped open a can of Beer with his teeth and he handed it to me, I was gonna drink it but then I horked a little on accident and said Sorry I might be airsick, then Big Johnson took the Beer back and he popped a medicine out of his arm and said "Here Steve Jenkins, eat this medicine, it will make you feel better" and I said "Sorry I dont eat medicine that has just came out of a strange Arm" "Suit yourself" he said as he drank the loogie beer, "So Rami, tell us how you got those Augs of yours man."

Saturday June 12, 2077, early morning Crazy Ivan’s Discount Emporium Soledad, California Kat was right - Crazy Ivan’s Discount Emporium didn’t just sell guns. The shop also had ammunition, pork rinds, and just about all the other cultural markers I remembered from the Pennsylvania countryside that served as "keep out" signs for anyone just passing through. I made a beeline away from the firearm-packed front counter, passed racks of camouflage and hunter orange clothing, and ended up at the back of the store looking at a bunch of white five gallon buckets under a sign flanked with army stars that said BE PREPARED! Kat caught up to me, pushing a rusty, squeaking shopping cart. "Fiesta Pail, huh?" "At least it sounds more appetizing than Essential Meal Assortment or Commando Protein Packs," I said. "Do we need extra food? I just sort of ended up here." "Can’t hurt. When a contract includes food, it’s probably just kibble or barely-flavored scop in a can." I heaved a Fiesta Pail into the cart - they were heavier than they looked. "What else are we here for?" I asked, still feeling a bit lost in a store meant for hunters and gun enthusiasts. "Well," Kat said, putting an arm around my shoulders and steering me down an aisle of machismo themed first-aid supplies, "here’s the area where you’re the expert. Are we missing anything?" She nudged me forward, and I fought the instinct to reach back and hold her hand. It was really tempting to just enjoy having some human contact, and avoid thinking too hard about how my job left me with less than zero time for a relationship and I was still figuring out how to feel about cute girls who carry tasers. If I wasn’t totally misreading the situation, it wouldn’t be fair to lead her on when I was still sorting through my own shit. The eye-level shelves displayed first-aid kits with names like MARINE WARRIOR and TACTICAL BLEEDING CONTROL that contained various subsets of things I already had. Above that, directly under a security camera, were medications with equally colorful names that this place was almost certainly not licensed to sell. "I added some wound care stuff to the kit I have for sports injuries, so I think we have most of this. The combat drugs seem like a really bad idea, but I’m not really sure how to adapt medical ethics to a situation where we might get shot at. What do you think?" Kat shrugged. "Depends how desperate you are. AssKick gives me a hell of a hangover, but better than than flatlined, you know?" "I guess that’s the one to get, since you’ve used it and didn’t die," I said, reading the label. "I shouldn’t be doing this. ‘Secret ingredient’ could be anything from B vitamins to arsenic to cocaine." "I won’t tell," Kat joked as I tossed a couple cans of the stuff in the cart. Her smile glowed. "So. Um. Did you see Steve pack any clothing that wasn’t florescent?" "I wasn't looking, so probably not. Speaking of, do you have anything that blends in better than… angry apples?" I looked down at my scrubs - "keep out" signs and apples with grouchy faces on a bright blue background. "I brought normal clothes, I just forgot to leave anything unpacked to change into. But if we’re all supposed to dress like trees, I’ll need something different." "Well, the goal is to find the wood pirates before they find us. Go get yourself some GI Joe stuff, I’ll get something in Steve’s size and we’ll meet at checkout." I nodded, and we split up. I was sure Rami had already come prepared, since he really seemed to know what he was doing, and Kat was probably thinking the same thing. We were starting to run low on time to kill before we had to be at the train station, and looking goofy was probably unavoidable anyway, so I just grabbed some pants with even more pockets than the zip-off cargo pants I’d packed, and the cheapest jacket. Kat was similarly speedy. The checkout counter was a locked case full of handguns with a cash register on top, and the wall behind it was covered in rifles propped up vertically like rows of pikes. To complete the intimidating picture, the gun salesman was a scowly mustached guy with more tattoos than remaining head hairs. "Is that everything?" I asked Kat. "Almost. You’re gonna need something more than an endearing personality and a winning smile for self defense on this one," Kat said, completely unexpectedly, and while I was reeling from the compliment she must have said something to the guy behind the counter, because when I came back down to earth he was handing me a pistol. "Wait, I’m just the medic, I’m not going to shoot anyone!" "You might not have a choice," Kat said, taking the thing from the salesman so he wasn’t left hanging. "Hopefully you’ll never be in danger, but you never know when a job’s going to go completely off the rails. You need to be able to defend yourself." "I thought that’s what camouflage clothing and running away really fast are for." Kat pushed the gun back across the counter and said to the sales guy, "can you give us a minute?" She steered me away from the front, back into the racks of clothing. "The hope is always that we don’t have to shoot anybody," Kat said. "Solving problems nonviolently is generally what I’m all about, but sometimes the person on the other end of that argument doesn’t see things the way that you do." "You tased Steve," I pointed out. "And I’m really sorry about that - but he was fine the next day, and that’s about as nonviolent as it gets when someone draws a sword on you." "I guess that’s fair," I said. "I knocked you down because I thought you might hurt Steve - it’s not that different." Kat nodded. "And look - I’m really sorry, but everyone carries iron when they’re out klepping. If the wood pirates see you, they’ll shoot at you." I shrugged. "Then I’ll get shot." I’d expected Kat to think I was crazy, but instead she just looked worried. "I feel awful when I step on a worm," I explained. "I don’t know how I’d handle it if I killed someone, and I really don’t want to find out." "Ok, let’s compromise," Kat said, surprisingly nonjudementally. "Rubber bullets." "Those can still break bones." "But you won’t kill anyone if you don’t aim for the head. Look, it’s not just your own safety you need to worry about - what if Steve or Rami is hurt and somebody with a weapon won’t let you get near them?" Kat headed back to the front of the store, and I reluctantly followed. "I guess you have a point." "Can I see that Nue again?" Kat said to the bearlike salesman. He unlocked the case again and handed it over. "Forty fives have enough stopping power to end a fight quickly, without too much recoil. Any smaller, and you’re just punching holes in people while they keep shooting at you - or I guess throwing erasers at them, if you’re shooting rubber." She pressed it into my hand, and even though it probably wasn’t loaded I felt like I might set it off just by looking at it. "This one’s Japanese made. Basic, reliable, and doesn’t expect you to have gorilla hands." The salesman set another gun on the counter. "The Tamayura might also interest you. It’s a classic, and packs a stronger punch." "Yeah, but - Arasaka," Kat grumbled. "I’ll defer to you on this," I said. "I really don’t know anything about this stuff - they both look like guns to me." Kat said to the salesman, "then he’ll take the Nue, two extra clips, and a box of rubber bullets. And this stuff." She gestured at the cart. "Want to go halfsies on the Fiesta Pail, Piñata?" "I’ll get it, it’s not that expensive," I said, dumping the rest onto the counter and wheeling the cart over next to it so the salesman could scan the food bucket’s barcode. The shopping trip as a whole was kind of expensive, probably because there was a gun in it. I buried it at the bottom of the shopping bag under the clothes and medical stuff, but the outline of the holster still made a gun-shaped dent. "I’ll try to share my other nonlethal gadgets with you before our next gig," Kat said as we walked out of the store Our eyes met across the very purple top of the very purple car, and I awkwardly froze there for a second. "I mean, assuming there’s a next time." "Staying in touch with safer activities too would be nice. Sorry I haven’t been around much - my work schedule doesn’t really allow for having a life and things." Kat shrugged as she buckled in. "Don’t worry about it, I’ve been there," she said, which was an odd thing for a freelance hacker to say. I got in the passenger side and adjusted the seat to as upright as it would go without folding me over, hoping that would help me stay awake. I’d gotten way too used to falling asleep in this exact spot. I put the bag with the gun in the foot space of the seat behind me. Out of sight, out of mind. Hopefully.

June 12, 2077 (Saturday) Biotechnica Flats Southern Desert Outskirts of Night City, California Early morning ___________________________ "Okay, that’s it, we’re here. A little tip: keep your serious face on and try not to talk too much. We’re in the lion’s den now," Rami advised as Steve, Sammy, and I unbuckled our seatbelts and stepped out into the cold morning air. The stench of organic matter clung to everything, and the humidity stuck to our clothes like an ex who didn't want to let go. Biotechnica Flats stretched out around us, a massive expanse of carefully tended greenhouses glowing dimly under the watchful eye of a few remaining stars. On the other side of the parking lot, standing in the shadow of a large helicopter, was a woman clad in what was obviously corporate couture. Her suit was black, her heels were red, and her expression was as sharp as both combined. Flanking her were two heavily armed guards who sent shivers down my spine. "That must be Professor McKinnell," Rami muttered under his breath. "Remember, she’s going to be the one signing our paychecks when this gig is done. Be polite, but try to avoid volunteering anything more than necessary. And whatever you do, don’t piss her off. Got it?" Steve, as if on cue, opened his mouth to ask a question, only to be silenced by a look from Rami. Sammy’s shoulders tensed. Compulsively, I put an arm around him and squeezed, offering whatever comfort I could. We all knew how important this job was. "You got this, Piñata." We fell into a tense silence and slowly made our way over to the waiting helicopter, our footsteps echoing on the wet tarmac. Professor McKinnell watched us approach, her eyes as cold as the early dawn atmosphere. "Mister Soraya?" she asked, her voice cool, precise, and clipped. "You’ve found him," Rami acknowledged, jerking a thumb at his own chest before proffering his hand for a shake. McKinnell left him hanging, her eyes instead flickering over each of us like she was sizing up livestock at some farmer’s market. "A…varied group. One of you is a netrunner, correct?" the professor asked. "That’d be me," I answered, raising my hand. "Kat Franklin, ma’am. Pleased to meet you." The professor arched an eyebrow. "I suppose I should be impressed. We don’t usually get netrunners in our Reference Forests…for…obvious reasons." Oof. Cold, I thought to myself. Ordinarily, this would be the time I’d fire back with some dorky retort, but with the price tag on this job, I took a deep breath and let the insult roll off me, instead flashing a brittle smile. "Well, ma’am, you’re in luck, then. I’m an edgerunner. I blend in just fine. Not like I could short out the goddamn forest anyway," I replied, trying to keep my tone light and breezy, even as Rami’s head was slowly swiveling toward me, his eyes narrowed in a silent ‘Kat, no’ face. "We’ll see about that, Ms. Franklin." Great. Looks like I’m on her shit list already. Well, I thought, it could always be worse. Despite her words, Professor McKinnell’s expression didn’t change, and I couldn’t tell if I’d somehow managed to mollify her or if she was simply an excellent poker player. Either way, she jerked her head toward Sammy, who seemed to shrivel under the intensity of her stare. "And you, the surgeon?" Sammy tensed beside me, and I squeezed his hand in support. "Yes ma’am," Sammy answered quietly. "Sam Voss, but everyone calls me Sammy. I’m a surgical resident at Thrifty Care and—" "I’m aware of your credentials, Mister Voss," McKinnell interrupted, her tone sharp as glass. "You’ll be in charge of keeping your colleagues here safe?" "I—I’ll do my best, ma’am." "So that must make you the attorney," she continued, gesturing at Steve, who looked mildly amused by the entire exchange. "Steven Tychomidos Jenkins," he drawled, shooting her a roguish grin. "Proud to be here to help out Biotechnica in their time of need." Professor McKinnell’s frosty expression thawed just a little. "A ‘celebrity’ attorney, according to your television advertisements. You understand that this mission will not involve cameras, Mister Jenkins?" Steve’s grin dimmed slightly. "When you’ve got it, flaunt it. But I can put my ego aside for a job well done. I’m more than just pretty words, I assure you. Besides, this could be great for my personal brand." "And you," she finished, her gaze returning Rami. You're the one in charge of this…" She paused, hesitating as if searching for the right word, "…crew?" "I wouldn’t go that far," Rami clarified. "I was just the point of contact for the job." The professor arched an eyebrow like she didn’t quite believe him. "Fine. Let’s not split hairs. Do you need me to recap your assignment? Or do you all understand the stakes?" Rami straightened his posture. "I think everyone understands your expectations well. We convene at the Reference Forest, set up surveillance, identify the wood pirates, and then call for extraction. We’re to ensure that the ecology remains undisturbed at all times." "Mostly correct. However, there will be no need no need to ‘convene.’ The helicopter here," she explained, gesturing to the chopper, "will deliver all of you directly to the site." "So, about that," I interjected. McKinnell’s eyes shot toward me. Rami cast me a warning glance. Great. I plastered on my most innocent expression and continued, "We thought it’d be better for OpSec if half of us flew and the other half drove in via the 101 to San Fran, then picked up the maglev the rest of the way. Sammy and I were gonna take his car. It’s more inconspicuous. Less chance of a single point of failure, too." Rami gave me another look, this time one of silent approval. "Well, I suppose that could work," Professor McKinnell answered reluctantly. "We can always use the extra stealth. After all, we don’t want these wood pirates alerted to the fact that we’ve called in specialists to put an end to their vandalism. I just need your assurance that you’ll be able to cover the distance and be on-site at RF003 before end of day today." "No problem," I replied confidently. "We’ll be there, punctual as ever." "Very well," McKinnell concluded. "Shall we?" With that, she spun on her heel and walked briskly toward the waiting helicopter. Rami and Steve looked toward Sammy and me as they hoisted their gear bags onto their shoulders. I flashed a jaunty salute while Sammy waved momentarily. Steve returned my salute in an exaggerated fashion while Rami cast us both a confident nod. Then the pair turned away, following the professor to the aircraft, leaving Sammy and me to share a sigh of relief. "You think we can make it?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of doubt. "Piece of cake," I enthused. "We got this in the bag." Or at least, I hope so.

June 12, 2077 (Saturday) Surgery Shack Kabuki neighborhood Night City, California Early morning ___________________________ As I drove down Bellevue Avenue, the station wagon lurched and swayed slowly and unsteadily in the alley between the Surgery Shack and the adjacent dessert store. Kat watched the intersection ahead with tired eyes. A light drizzle fell on the car, the sound almost hypnotic. Steve sat in the back seat with Sammy, his usually talkative demeanor softening somewhat by the early hours. Sammy was already asleep with his head on the window, enjoying a few precious moments of sleep before we reached Biotechnica Flats. In the early darkness, the city was asleep, and only drunks and night shift workers were out playing in the damp darkness. I steered the car to the right of the lane and the ride was smooth as we hit the wet roads. Kat looked at the Kabuki Dragon Gate passing overhead before looking at me, her face is lit by eerie glow of streetlights outside. "Are you taking 101?" she asked. "Yes, it should be empty this time of night," I replied, looking at her in the passenger seat. "I want to take us through the back entrance to the facility, not the front gate." She nodded and looked out the window again as the neon lights of the city passed us by. "Are you expecting trouble?" "I always expect trouble, Kat," I explained as I drove down the highway, rain pattering on the windshield. "It is part of the job. Especially now." "That seems legit," she answers with smile. "Stitches don’t pay bills." At that moment, I heard Steve sit up in the back seat and then there was a groan and a thump as his movement woke Sammy up. "SOMETIMES stitches DO pay Bills!!" Steve chirped as our car entered a long tunnel that ran under the city streets. "If you catch Negligence when it happens it can earn an ASSLOAD of eddies." Kat snorted and shook her head with an amused smile on her face. I laugh to myself, too. "So, what’s your story?" I asked Steve as I lightly pressed the gas pedal and sped us through the left lane to avoid the congestion. "How does a personal injury lawyer end up in Night City and work for us as an consultant?" Steve did a long sigh and leaned back in his seat. "WELL, I was born to my dad BJ and my mom Marlene in Kuzuu County in Kansas and also my little brother Mikey. MY Mom and Dad do farming and Mechanics but I wasnt interested in that, I wanted to do Bushido and mystical meditations, I didnt want to be a worn-out farmer with dirt on my teeth and no money. So when I turned 18 I got legally Divorced from my parents and went to Night City and got my Six Sigma Black Belt at Power Fists Dojo in Japantown, Sensei Ronald was my first Sensei and Martial Arts Master." "Ah," I replied as the car pulled out of the tunnel and plunged back into the rain. "And how does this lead to the present?" "WELL I went and got a job from Militech as a Convoy Escort but then I had a Workplace Injury that meant I couldnt do Escorting anymore but my Six Sigma Black Belt had gave me business knowledge and so I went and got my Law Degree in the mail from Colombia, then I had did the bar exam and started my Career as a civil litigation attorney, I do mostly Personal Injury/Wrongful Death suits on account of you can do them from anywhere, you just have to make an ASSLOAD of phone calls where you threaten to Sue until they give you a Settlement." "Wait, did you go from escorting convoys to chasing ambulances?" I asked as we pulled off the Bayview ramp and onto 101 South. "No no no, Rami, I am a Personal Injury Attorney for the People, I dont chase ambulances, ambulances find ME." The engine roared and the transmission shifted with much more force than I expected from a new car. After a number of machine gun sounds, it roars at high speed, making it almost impossible to speak. Finally, there is a loud bang, The car jerked and the engine shifted into the right gear. Steve didn’t seem to notice or care, but Kat gripped the arm of her seat tightly. "So you’re running for this group because the law firm Jenkins, Jenkins & Jenkins is seeking compensation for medical malpractice and personal injuries resulting from… edgerunning?" she asked. "Well… not really," Steve said. I looked in his direction, looked in the rearview mirror, and met Steve’s eyes. The neon lights of Night City were now thinner, replaced by the brighter, hot orange lights of old industrial buildings. "I got famous on account of this one Lawsuit I had where a Thrifty Care Patient needed a Butt Amputation but the hospital screwed up and they amputated the good Butt when they should of amputated the bad Butt. Anyways the problem was they couldn't put the good butt back on account of it was inside a dumpster getting ate by a Coyote. WELL would you belive the hospital tried to Fix it by amputating the bad butt too, then my Client couldn't taxi anymore, then the hospital tried to say they didn't do it but I had the Security Tape of the guy throwing half a set of butts in the dumpster and then the hospital agreed to Settle. They EVEN made a Tragedy Tales about it, how that did not put the hospital out of Business I do not know. I wish Johnny Silverhand had played me in the episode but he got blew to pieces when he nuked Night City like 30 years ago," Steve rambled on in a single breath. I looked at Kat who was sitting next to me in passenger seat. She made that grimace that people make when they are trying not to roll their eyes. She took a deep breath through her nose and interrupted Steve: "So what he’s trying to say…" "You should have seen the Fees Rami! I mean it was like the Fountain of Fees, I invested that money with Sammy in the Surgery Shack/Law Firm Of Jenkins Jenkins Jenkins & Jenkins, and now we’re going to be so damn Rich we’re immortal!! Oh, but you asked how come Im helping with this gig right?" Steve shouted. "Yeah, that’s the missing piece," I grumbled. "WELL you pretty much know the story about the Shipment, and I had went to the Thrifty Care with Sammy who was already my friend and Kat who had broke into the Surgery Shack to find the Shipment and Jing Li who I had JUST hired to do Paralegal Things after Jing Li got kicked by a Horse we were loading into the back of my Suzuki, she had a Concussion, then when we were inside of the Thrifty Care Kat asked me for help with ONE thing and then all of the sudden BAM I was Kat’s friend and then I met you and now all of you need Help and my Honor says I have to help my Friends under penalty of Dishonor and Jail Time, and I guess they even teach that in Law School." Steve took a deep breath, "So, yeah thats how Im here with you and my Friends helping to Identify Wood Pirates." Kat reached over and patted my hand. "I’m sure you are his friend too." I nodded. "We are all friends here." We got off Route 101 and onto a country road that got narrower the further south it went. The rain stopped and we could see concrete barriers rising from the ground on either side of the road. Soon I saw halos of artificial light behind the fences, and before we knew it, the entire road was covered in an eerie glow. Endless rows of protein farm greenhouses stretch out in every direction, their glass lit up from inside in bluish-green light. It gave the entire area an alien feel as if I was somewhere far away from Earth. These were the Biotecnica flats. "Wow," Kat said, pressing her face against the window and trying to take it all in. "I only saw it on video. It’s like something out of a movie." "Welcome to the miracle of 21st century food production," I said, my voice sarcastic. "It tastes like cardboard and looks like dog food, but it won’t kill you." I heard Steve wake Sammy up in the back seat. "SAMMY you HAVE to see this, We’re on a protein farm, man!! It’s pretty cool!!!" Sammy grumbled and rubbed his eyes. "What?" He blinked, adjusting to the light. "Oh, shit, we're here already?" As we drive, the road got worse and worse, I am dodging potholes and debris, always on the lookout for signs of trouble. The last thing we needed was a flat tire in the middle of nowhere surrounded by genetically modified lettuce. But there seemed to be no life in this entire area. There was no one; there was just machines, automated systems, quietly in the background whispering and completing their tasks without human supervision. Even the road in the middle of the farm, the road we were on, was eerily quiet, the ripples in the puddles behind our car the only sign of movement other than the drones of automated cargo flying overhead. Eventually we reached the middle of the complex where our designated meeting point was. A massive industrial monstrosity, tall and cylindrical, with pipes and vents protruding from it like mechanical veins. It was surrounded by smaller, boxy buildings, and on the side were several large storage tanks, likely filled with chemicals used to grow synthetic proteins. Shipping containers are stacked in neat rows near the entrance to the parking lot, ready to be transported to the next delivery loKation to Night City or some other part of the world. As I pulled Sammy’s car into the parking lot next to the building, the headlights caught sight of a VL-11 Corporate Bus helicopter waiting to pick Steve and me up and take us north while Kat and Sammy drove on the roads and rails. I also saw a corporate person, a woman in a dark suit, flanked by two armed guards. I rolled down the window and waved at her as I parked my car, showing her that we were the ones she was waiting for. The smell in the breeze reminded me of a little bit of chemicals, though it was hard to tell what they were. I secured the gun in a hidden holster and opened the car door. As I did that I turned and looked at Kat, Sammy, and Steve. "Okay, that’s it, we’re here. A little tip: keep your serious face on and try not to talk too much. We’re in the lion’s den now."

June 11, 2077, Friday Thrifty Care Kabuki, Night City CA The order for Ms. Ortiz’s painkillers wouldn’t go through, even though I’d definitely filled it out right. The computer just kept going ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Then, next thing I knew, it was going "Sammy". "Sammy." "Sammy!" Something touched my shoulder and I yelled something along the lines of "WaaAAgh!" and spun around in the spinny chair and it was just Lachelle. "You okay Sammy? I’ve been watching you click the ‘sound on’ button for a solid two minutes." "Oh, um." She was right - I could’ve sworn the mouse cursor was over the Send Order button, but it was not. I put the order through and spun back around. "Yeah, sorry about that. Won’t happen again." Lachelle looked at me skeptically, then wrote something on a perscription pad, handed it to me, and said "this should help with that." It was an actual perscription. "I guess that’s one workaround," I said, "but a nurse told me they need everything to be in the system so it doesn’t get lost, and… oh." My brain caught up with my eyes and I realized my name was on the patient line. It was for enervastim, the civillian knockoff of Surge. "That’s a great idea, but I’m already using it when I have a double shift. I know I need to do better - my roommate is really loud, but I have some better earplugs coming in the mail any day now." "Hey, I’m not blaming you or anything," Lachelle said. "This place sucks. The Surge you’ve already got - you’re taking it as directed?" "Yeah." "What you want to do, is quarter the pills and take it sublingually. Tastes like shit and wears off fast, but it’ll save your liver. And don’t take it before a procedure til you know your tolerance, it gives me hand tremors for the first half hour or so. You’ll want to take this to the pharmacy at the corner of Goldsmith and Martin, they’re old school and won’t check the net for what else you’ve filled. If you need more than that, ask Ashkii for a third scrip, and take it to the pharmacy on Jig-Jig." I folded the paper perscription and stuffed it in my pocket. It felt like contraband. "Thanks, Lachelle. I’d wondered how you all do it. You’re sure this is safe?" "Safe enough, other than going to Jig-Jig street - you’ll want a Combat Cab for that, but sometimes it’s worth it to have a few waking hours that aren’t at work. Keep an eye on your heart rate, but no one here’s had major problems. Our job as residents is to keep other people healthy, not to be healthy ourselves." "Not that we’re likely to succeed at either," I said, and then looked around with an exaggerated suspicious face like I was worried about admin overhearing us. Lachelle snickered as she turned to go. "Just keep counting the days til you’re out of here. I’m at three hundred and fourty two." I already had some surge pills with me - two left from the four a month that’s supposed to be the max dose. I broke off part of a pill with my fingernail, since I didn’t have a pill cutter, and melted it under my tongue like Lachelle said. She was right, it did taste like shit, and a whole bottle of water didn’t fully get rid of the taste. But at least it’d keep me from doing anything else stupid today. Lachelle was right, the stuff packs a punch taken this way. I was five coffees’ worth of awake, and only two coffes’ worth of jittery. I blasted through the rest of the paperwork and then headed to clinic. Dr. Slaughter was already having me give people a few stitches and things like that unuspervised. Probably because everyone with more experience had even more critical things to do. So I did my best not to cause any infections or leave anybody looking like Frankenstein’s monster. So I went to the hallway that’d been turned into the minor wound clinic and stood around by the bed under the big number 3 sign. Sometimes they scheduled minor biopsies and things in here, but mostly the patients were coming from the ER or urgent care intake with a printout saying what they needed done. The printout was new - Tony said it’d been all digital, but after the amputation incident Steve had come here about happened, admin was worried a patient might go to the wrong number and get the wrong thing done to them. It was a reasonable worry too, with how fast things moved in here. The first patient who came to my station was holding a bunch of fast food napkins around her finger, and the screen said Chu Yi Nuo had a finger wound, so that all checked out. I still glanced at her printed paper and signed it, because I didn’t want admin to yell at me. Then I pulled the privacy curtain closed. "Hi, Ms. Chu, how are you?" I asked. She shrugged, and forced a smile. "I guess not so good, since you’re here?" She didn’t laugh, but the wrinkles around her eyes crinkled deeper. "Bad day at work. Very bad." "Sit down," I gestured to the bed since she didn’t seem confident with English, "and let’s have a look." She sat, and I unwrapped the napkin from her finger. And then the next, and the next, becoming bloodier with each layer. "How much?" Ms. Chu asked. "I know you probably waited ages to get back here, but I’m going as fast as I can." She shook her head. "Money, cost - how much?" "Oh, um, I think billing handles that." She sighed and stared at the floor as I got the last few napkins off. "Money - I have not much." I rinsed her finger in saline and patted it dry. Her fingertip was sliced halfway off, but luckily the nail and nail bed weren’t cut. "Everything’s on credit here, they’ll set you up with a payment plan when you leave. It’s a pain, but probably worth it to keep all your parts where they belong." She didn’t seem reassured. "You said this happened at work?" Ms. Chu nodded, still looking at the floor. I wasn’t sure if it was a sad look at the floor, or a not wanting to see her own blood look at the floor. I sanitized a bottle of local anesthetic and drew up what I’d need. "This is going to pinch," I said, making a pinch gesture. "It’ll hurt a little bit." The tremors from the enervistim I’d taken had worn off, thank goodness, and I was able to get the local anesthetic where it needed to go without trouble. "Now we wait a couple minutes for it to get numb." I wrapped her finger in a bit more gauze and put some pressure on it, hoping to slow the bleeding before it was time to sew. "Because you got hurt at work - before you go, I’ll give you a phone number to call, for help understanding the bill. My friend can help you file for worker’s compensation, so that you don’t need to pay it. He’s a lawyer, and he speaks Chinese." "Not need to pay?" "Maybe - I don’t know, I’m not a lawyer. But he might be able to help you, especially if your workplace is unsafe." I unwrapped her finger. It was still pretty bloody, but I could probably work around it. "You should be numb now, but tell me if this hurts, okay?" Ms. Chu didn’t feel the needle, thank goodness, so I sewed her fingertip back on and bandaged it up. I printed out the wound care instructions for her - the computer system was multilingual, and hopefully not completely terrible at translating. I wrote Steve’s number on the back. "His assistant Jing Li might answer the phone, since Steve’s going on a trip soon, but I’m sure he’ll get back to you next week if not sooner." Ms. Chu thanked me, took the paperwork and left. The next patient wasn’t here yet, so I checked the shift schedule. Tony was off on Monday like I’d remembered, but every resident and every attending had hours scheduled on Tuesday. Weird - were they expecting an extra violent Tuesday this week? At least my shift that day didn’t start til 4:00. "Hey Tony," I typed in the chat. "I'll take your Saturday night shift if you'll take my Monday." "Hell yeah! What are you even doing on a Monday?" Tony replied. "Weekend camping trip - my roommate wants to make it a longer one. What's up with Tuesday? They scheduled everyone." "Probably either a police sweep planned nearby, or a corporate thing. Hoping for the latter. Bullet wounds are less boring, but at least paperwork never dies on you." "Damn, sounds like a fun time." "Lookin forward to it."

June 11, 2077 (Friday) Surgery Shack Kabuki neighborhood Night City, California Mid-day ___________________________ "I didn't realize you planned to be in the woods for a full week - I have a three-day weekend, sort of; I’m supposed to be back at work Monday night. I might be able to get a fourth day if I beg Tony to swap shifts with me, but I think that's the most time off I can get. I'm really sorry - I can't get fired, but I also don't want any of you to get shot when there's no one to help. Or get shot at all, obviously," Sammy explained. Rami’s eyes narrowed, a subtle flash of disappointment in his expression. "I see. Well, we will have to work quickly, then," he responded flatly. "Are there any more questions?" A long, uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Steve and Jing Li exchanged glances. I leaned back in my chair, balancing it on its rear legs and fidgeting with a computer stylus. "OK, this meeting is adj-" Rami began, but before he could finish, Steve jumped up and produced a gavel seemingly out of thin air, slamming it down on the table. "OBJECTION!" he shouted, scaring the bejesus out of everyone. I dropped my chair down with a thud. "Where were you hiding that gavel?" I asked incredulously. Steve held up his hands in a placating gesture. "If I told you, I wouldn’t have the legal advantage anymore!" Before I could unpack that particular nugget of nonsense, Rami interjected, "Yes, what is it, Steve?" "I did not hear anything about Lodgings, where are we going to stay, is BIOTECHNICA going to give us Digs or am I going to have to come home after a long day of Wood Pirating and unload the chili wagon on an old bucket with no water and a bunch of Leaves to kill the smell," Steve rambled. I found myself inadvertently holding my breath, waiting for the landslide of words to end. "Also, WHEN are we leaving, I have important Things I have to do/reschedule." Rami blinked, eyebrows raised, at the wall of text that just hit him. Sammy and Jing Li looked like they were also trying to process the barrage of information. I just tried not to think about Steve shitting in a bucket. Slowly, Rami composed himself. Meanwhile, Steve spun the gavel in his hand like some kind of martial arts master, staring intently at the taxi driver. "Well, Steve," Rami responded at length, rubbing his forehead. "Biotechnica says they will provide us with well-equipped temporary accommodations at a firewatch tower in RF003. As for when we're leaving, I propose no later than 48 hours from now, ideally tomorrow morning at 0400." Steve closed his eyes and appeared to be doing some internal calculations. "I can reschedule my ENTIRE LIFE for 48 hours, but after that, it's up in the air, and I’ll have to charge overtime." "I’ve got a question," I interjected, hoping to save Rami’s brain from further damage. "What are we doing about transpo for this gig? Where’d you say it’s happening? Northern California?" "That’s right," Rami answered, leaning forward. "Specifically, in Rockefeller Forest. That’s in Humboldt County, just south of the Oregon border." "Riiiight," I answered hesitantly, calling up a map on my agent. After punching in the Surgery Shack’s address and picking a random point of interest in the region of the job, a series of driving directions appeared on the screen. "That’s nearly 1,000 kilometers from here. If we’re splitting the gang up to get there, how do you propose the choombas on the ground cover that kind of distance fast enough to keep up with the air gang?" "The client wants to pick us up at the Biotechnica Flats landing pad," Rami replied, tapping his tablet on the table. "I propose we carpool there to minimize our profile. Once we arrive, two of us board the AV while the other two take the highway up to San Francisco. I checked the timetables, and there’s a maglev train to Medford, Oregon departing shortly after you’d be arriving in the city. It’s an auto train, so you can take the car with you." I glanced at Rami, then to Steve, Jing Li, and Sammy, and then back to Rami. "You keep saying ‘you.’ Who’s ‘you?’" Rami shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought it would be to our advantage if we clear up any legal and extralegal obstacles before you and Sammy arrive on site. By maglev, you’d be in Medford before the end of the day. We'll have handheld shortwave radios on loan from Combat Cab, so we'll be able to find each other, even if there's no wireless service onsite." I looked over at Sammy. "What do you say, Piñata? Road trip? Your wheels or mine?" "Uh, mine," Sammy stuttered, reddening slightly. "I’ve already got my bed set up in it." "You’re still sleeping in your car?" I asked, eyebrows raised. Sammy’s cheeks flushed even redder. "Yeah. I haven’t had time to clean up the…crime scene." "I bet," Steve muttered under his breath. Then, turning to Jing Li, he whispered loudly, "HE WORKS ALL THE TIME." "And if you worked half the time, we could pay some bills!" Jing Li hissed back. I chuckled, twirling the stylus between my fingers again. "Alright, alright, kids," Rami admonished, clapping his hands loudly. "To recap, tomorrow morning at 0400, we meet here, behind the loading dock. We’ll carpool to Biotechnica Flats. Then, Sammy and Kat, you’ll take road and rail up to Medford, while Steve and I get there aboard the AV. We’ll regroup with Doctor Shaw at the RF003 coordinates provided by our employer. From there, all we have to do is ID the wood pirates, turn that information over to Biotechnica, and return home. Simple. Any more questions?" I glanced around the room. Everyone shook their heads, save for Jing Li, who had seemingly dozed off with her head on Steve’s shoulder. "I think we’re good, boss man." Rami nodded, setting his tablet in the center of the table. "Alright, then. Meeting adjourned. Here’s a list of gear I think you should have for a stay in the forest. See you all, as they say, ‘bright and early’ on Sunday." As everyone headed their separate ways, I eased up out of my chair and wandered hesitantly over to Rami, stuffing my hands in my pockets and trying to look as nonchalant as possible. He turned to me, his eyes curious. I cleared my throat before speaking, trying to keep my voice low. "Uh, hey, Rami. So…" "So?" he prompted, folding his arms across his chest. I felt more awkward than a noob hacker trying to infiltrate a L4 corporate mainframe for the first time as I continued. "Steve does have a point. How did Combat Cab end up with a Biotechnica tree-hugging contract? No offense, but that’s way outside of the 6th Street Gang’s wheelhouse, especially the taxi division." Rami’s expression softened, but only just. "I’d prefer it if you had as much plausible deniability as possible," he began, his quieter than my own. "But since you’re asking, it came down from my boss. Nothing, officially, to do with Combat Cab. It’s a side job. A way, he says, to recover the cost of the taxi I…lost…during your Vanguard gig. And to keep my job, probably." I winced, remembering, in vivid detail, the horrific crash that had totaled Rami’s cab. "Shit, Rami, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you guys had to work off cars that got wrecked." He waved a hand to dismiss my apology. "Not your fault. Just the way it is." I swore under my breath, cursing the unfairness of the situation. "Well, I appreciate you cutting us in. Even more so, I appreciate you getting us all out of town for a while. It’ll be good to lower the heat temperature on our tails if you know what I mean. Between Militech and Trauma Team, I’m afraid to even go across the street for noodles." Rami’s lips twitched in the beginning of a smile. "Tell me about it. Just be ready to go on Sunday before first light. We don’t need to attract any more heat. Now go, get some rest." I nodded and shuffled back toward the stairs, my internal sense of time completely screwed up by over a week of hiding out in the basement of the Surgery Shack. I wondered, not for the first time, if I’d ever have a normal schedule again. Down the staircase I went, arriving at the landing and vestibule of the former club, where two dusty plastic ferns still flanked an umbrella stand dotted with rust. Rays of light filtered through the bamboo-shaped front doors, casting fractal patterns on the old walls and cracked linoleum. I continued down the next flight of stairs onto what was once the club’s main floor, glancing over at the ridiculous plywood enclosure rising from the bar top to the ceiling that now was my "home." At least it’s dry and relatively secure. I decided to track down Sammy and find out just how roadworthy his ride, a 2077 VersaWagon, really was. Even though it was less than a year old, it had already seen better days. If we were gonna attempt a drive all the way to Oregon, we needed reliable wheels. It didn’t take long to find him. The groans of frustration and disgust led me to the former club’s kitchen and laundry room, where Sammy was watching a cyclone of reddish-hued water swirl around behind the glass of the front-loading industrial washing machine. Saying nothing, I posted up against a nearby wall, its tiles cold against my thigh as I folded my arms across my chest and watched the show. Somehow, Sammy figured out I was there, and turned to face me with an imploring look. "Hey, Kat. Do you happen to know if hydrofluoric acid is miscible with water?" "Uh, I got the ‘water’ part of that question," I hedged, "but the other half? Chemistry was so not my thing." Sammy sighed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Neither was it mine, but here we are. I’m mainly wondering whether or not it would eat all the gaskets of the washing machine." I raised an eyebrow. "And why are we thinking of putting acid in the washing machine?" Sammy cringed, pointing at the off-putting gyre. "I’ve bleached this thing about 50 times, but it still looks like somebody knocked over a blood bank in there. Maybe acid will do a better job." I pushed off the wall, wandering over to the washer to gawk at the frothy, gyrating mess. It reeked of bleach, but underneath, there was a coppery undertone that made my stomach knot. "I don’t know, Sammy. What’s the worst that can happen?" Sammy pursed his lips. "Well, if it’s miscible, it’ll just take the stains off. But if not…kabloosh." At the last word, he made an exploding motion with his hands. "And if that happens, well, I'm not so sure this kitchen drain is actually in service." I grimaced. "From what I’ve seen of this place, probably not. Just as likely to be a dismembered arm or something down there. "Wait a minute. Now I'm starting to get the reason you sleep in the car." "Yeah…I'm sorry there wasn't a second parking space," he deadpanned. I clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Don’t worry about it. I’ve slept in worse places. True story. You sure you don’t want me to hack into the local sanitation plant and divert a tanker or three of bleach our way?" "I appreciate the offer," Sammy said, rolling his eyes, "but no. Besides, we have more important things to do, like figuring out how to become tree-hugging eco-vigilists." I laughed, nudging him in the arm. "Fair enough, Doc. Let’s do it."

MEANWHILE..... "Are there any more questions?" Rami Intoned. Sammy said some Things about his schedule and Rami started talking about that, then when he finished he said "OK this meeting is ov-" but before he could finish I jumped up and I slammed a Gavel down on the table and I said OBJECTION!! Then Kat said "Wait what WHERE were you hiding that Gavel??" Then I said "If I told you then I wouldnt have the Legal advantage anymore." Then Rami said "Yes what is it Steve??" and I Said "I did not hear anything about Lodgings, where are we going to stay, is BIOTECHNICA going to give us Digs or am I going to have to come home after a long day of Wood Pirating and unload the chili wagon on an old bucket with no water and a bunch of Leaves to kill the smell, also WHEN are we leaving, I have important Things I have to do/reschedule." Then Rami's lips started to move on account of he was starting to answer the question, so I spun the gavel around in my hand like a Sai and looked at him with a Serious face to make my Point.

"I didn't realize you planned to be in the woods for a full week - I have a three day weekend, sort of, I'm supposed to be back at work Monday night. I might be able to get a fourth day if I beg Tony to swap shifts with me, but I think that's the most time off I can get. I'm really sorry - I can't get fired but I also don't want any of you to get shot when there's no one to help. Or get shot at all, obviously."

June 11, 2077 Surgery Shack Kabuki neighborhood Night City, California Mid-day ___________________________ After knocking on the interior door of the law office several times without getting an answer, I opened the door. The door must have been bent on its hinges or something, because it suddenly swung open with such force that I could hear the drywall crack as its handle hit the wall. I backed away, thinking I had damaged Steve's office before I had a chance to talk to him. But then I looked from the side and saw that the plaster had taken several hits, one of which was so hard that I could see the supporting nails and wires in the wall. Steve himself was sitting on the worn, old office sofa, a bottle of liquor in his hand. I looked at my watch and then looked at him again. 11 a.m. This guy starts early, I thought to myself. Steve turned his head to look at me, a smile slowly spreads across his face as I take off my sunglasses and placed them with the hand holding the strap of my gym bag. Beside him sat his assistant, Jing Li, who was clearly trying to keep herself busy with work while the holovision screen blared in the background. Her screen was broadcasting a loudly-broadcast talk show called "Homewrecker Hoedown," something like Network 54's typical daytime program but with more violence and less sophistication. When I accidentally loudly arrived, Jing Li turned and stared at me too. Her look shifts from me to Steve, then back from Steve to me, in an awkward silence filled with the silly struggles coming from the holovision screen. It looked like Jing Li was waiting for Steve to greet me, but he continued to drink from the bottle and stare at me, smiling like a madman with a wild look in his eyes. In the end, I decided to break the silence. But as she began to speak, the holographic TVs power was inexplicably sparked and went dead. "I'm here to talk about the mission," I said, my thoughts thrown off track by the entertainment center's sudden death. Steve took another sip of the drink, then he and Jing Li asked simultaneously, "Mission, what mission?" Then Steve laughed hard, pointed at Jing Li and shouted, "Jingx!" I replied, "Mission, where are Sammy and Kat?" As I set my bag down. Steve thought about the question for a moment, then answered, "Kat is probably downstairs helping Sammy pack for the camping trip he and I are going on this week." He then followed his words with a burp that would have rattled the windows if they weren't already barred. "Why do you ask?" I squint, not sure if Steve was too drunk to remember, if he is still suffering from the effects of his concussion, or if he just hadn't been told about the job. Rather than repeat the details several times during this visit, I decide to wait until everyone was together to explain. "I must brief everyone, and you. Make sure everyone is on the same page. And that you're ready for the gig within the next 24 hours," I explained as I walked to the couch. Steve stared at me blankly for a moment, his mouth closed, his cheeks getting redder and fuller, and a pained smile on his face. Finally, the laughter he had been suppressing spills out. "Is there anything funny about that?" I asked. Steve nodded. "I'm sure they're already wearing underwear, but if you want to make sure, be my guest," he managed between breaths. Jing Li, on the other hand, was as red as a tomato and had buried her face in her hands. "I want to inform them about the mission," I sighed. "And you too." "Not me, I'm going on a camping trip with Sammy this weekend... Wait WHAT? It's an assignment? Man, I thought we were going camping!" Steve shouted, pointing at me accusingly. "YOU thought wrong," I replied. I have exhausted my patience. I quickly regain my composure. "It's very profitable." "Oh, in that case, Jing Li, can you go downstairs and tell Kat and Sammy to come up to the law firm now?" Steve asked, corking the bottle and pushing it into the sofa cushions. "Yes, Mr. Jenkins," Jing Li replies with relief as she hurried out of the law firm. I heard the tapping of her shoes on the old wooden floor of the building as she walked down the hall to the stairs. "I'm sorry about that," Steve with a serious expression said. "I'm in. Just give me a second to sober up." "Don't worry," I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand. "It happens. How is concussion doing, by the way?" Steve stared at me blankly again as he got up from the couch and motioned for me to sit down. "Concussion?" "The one in your head," I said half-jokingly, carefully sitting down on the furniture. It was surprisingly comfortable, the kind of comfort you only get after decades of use. "Oh, that concussion. It's okay," Steve said, rubbing the back of his head. "I don't even remember how I got it now." "I'm not surprised," I said, looking up. Steve just laughed. "Okay, I'll be right back," he replied as he walked away. "I just need to practice martial arts to get sober and then I'll be ready for the briefing." When he said the last word, I swore I heard him laugh again. ### After some time... ### Steve, Jing Li, Sammy, Kat and I sat around a small conference table in the corner of the office across from the lounge area where the couch and the now-defunct holovision were. After a brief conversation between us, during which Kat explained to me the specific and disturbing reasons why she was now living in the basement of the surgical shack instead of her own apartment, I took a deep breath and took it all in. In general, I knew something was wrong, but since we were all back in Night City, we assumed the trauma team and Militech might be after us. Because of this, we keep our communications to a minimum and are as off-grid as possible. This was the first time I spoke to the group in person. If Trauma Team had trashed and seized Kat's apartment...With all of her electronics, there's a good chance we'd all get caught up in it and put in danger. Even Sammy. "By the way, nice to see you again, Samuel," I said, looking at Sammy with my hand outstretched. "Sammy," he said, shaking my hand hesitantly. "Sam Voss, but everyone calls me Sammy." "Not everyone," Kat interrupts, smirking. I raised an eyebrow to prompt her for more details, but she leaned back in her chair with a wry smile. "Okay, I'll keep this brief because time is of the essence. I apologize for the shorter notice, but I didn't think it was wise to jeopardize our operational security by denying everyone plausible deniability until I know exactly when we'll be leaving. The less everyone knows, the better. The less time everyone has to figure that out, the safer they'll be. The mission is on. We'll leave at 4:00 on Saturday in two different convoys: one in the sky and one on the ground." A few weary groans went around the table. "I know, I know, but that gives us more than an hour before sunrise in Night City. I've thought carefully about it. We can use the cover of darkness and that it will be a weekend to get out of the city with minimal risk of being seen by Trauma Team or Militech." Kat sighed. Sammy nodded. Jing Li looked confused. Steve raised his hand. He asked, "And do what?" "Good question. The full answer can be found here," I said, pulling out an encrypted datapad, decrypting it and placing it on the table. "Here are the job details directly from our employer, Professor Geri McKinnell of Biotechnica." I pressed the play button. "Mr. Sanchez, as you are aware, in the last three months two of our Reference Forests have been hit by wood pirates. Whoever they are, they have cut down dozens of valuable trees and removed a few dozen burls. At first, we thought it was Green Fist, but it’s looking more like someone out there doesn’t want us cutting into their business…no pun intended. These pirates have hit at night when the forests are unattended. Site RF003 is the next logical location for a hit. Your job is to go into the forest and set up an ambush. Find these pirates and find out who is funding them. As for dead or alive, Biotechnica doesn’t want to know what happens after you get the intelligence. We will fly your people to the site on our VL-11 Corporate Bus where they will meet with Dr. Milica Shaw. She will orient them further. Remember, the job pays 1,000 eurodollars per person, but the ecology cannot be disturbed. Please return my call and let me know if you have anyone who can do this job." The recording ended. I lean back in my chair and folded my hands in my lap. "The duration of the mission is one week. I think we all need to get away for a while until things calm down." Everyone nodded. Then Jing Li asked a question. "Why do you need a lawyer?" "To make sure we don't do anything that could legally be considered 'environmental disturbance' and to provide us with a legal defense if we do," I said. Sammy leaned forward on his elbows. "Why do you need a doctor?" "In case something goes wrong," I replied. "I really hope they don't, but it would be foolish to drop in the middle of the woods to spy on people who might have guns without someone who knows how to remove a bullet from your intestines." Sammy didn't answer, he just looked scared. Finally, Steve's face twisted. At first I thought he was in pain, but he leaned forward and mimicked Sammy’s "pose" and looked at me with what I thought was supposed to be a questioning expression, but looked more like a malfunctioning gut. He said exaggeratedly, "Mr. Soraya, I have a question for you. WHY do you need a taxi driver in the middle of the woods? Combat Cab aren’t a spy business, even if they have fancy cars." At first I thought Steve was joking, or maybe he’d forgotten about our adventure a week ago, but he continued to maintain his grim look, so I relented. "Because it’s a side job," I said, "and I have exactly three skills, two-thirds of which apparently qualify me to be the heavy guy on this mission. Keeping people alive and shooting people who try to take the lives of the people I’m trying to keep alive." Steve nodded, his face still twisted. Suddenly he slammed his hand on the table without breaking eye contact with me. "I REST MY CASE!" he yelled as everyone jumped up in surprise. "I don't think... that's... how it works," I replied, but Steve just leaned back in his chair with a cocky smile on his face. Suddenly Kat also had a worried look on her face. "Wait a minute. Why didn't anyone ask why you need a netrunner in the middle of the forest? I feel left out!" I laughed. "Because this is an obvious need, a very technologically advanced ecosystem created by Biotechnica with all kinds of sensors, monitoring and access points requires someone who is able to break into this system to help keep eyes on the landscape." I waited a moment and then asked the group again. "Are there any more questions?"

Continued from 2077-06-03: Errand of Mercy... 2077-06-04: Job Received 2077-06-11: Briefing

MEANWHILE…… I slowly Gagged down the chunks of gross food Rami had made in the microwave, I couldnt even kill the flavor with my can of Bean & Bacon, it tasted like terrible ass and dog food mashed together. I didnt even want to know how Rami had managed to make something that tasted so bad with just 2 Engredients, but it was. I looked up as I sobbed into my mouthful of food quietly, Rami was eating his food really fast but Meanwhile Sammy and Kat looked sad and pushed their food around their plates with their rusty spoons, Kat gave me a Look and I sighed, Rami saw it too and he sighed louder than me as he finished up his own pile of food. "Alright, alright, I get it" He said putting his dish on the side with a CLANK "No need to give yourselves Dysentery just to make me feel good, but next time, YOU cook" he finished waving a fork at me. I stared at him and he stared at me but then I let out a Laugh and we all started laughing, even Rami who had made a big deal of being offended but was smirking down at his plate. I got up from my chair and I patted him on the back and THEN I Said "HEY I got an idea so that tonight isnt a Sad state, I can tell you guys a ghost story!!!" Then Kat said "Im not nearly drunk enough for ghost stories Steve" and Rami said "I’ve seen too many scary things in real life to be afraid of Ghosts" but then I said "WELL how about I get you guys Wasted???" THEN Sammy said "No Steve I’m not doing any of your pill bags with you" but I smiled and I said "Don’t worry buddy, I brought an assload of Liquor with me," then I walked over to my hammock and I grabbed my Duffle bag and I took it over to the middle of the "living room" area and I dumped it out on the floor, about 12 bottles of Twisted Gonad beer fell out along with a fifth of Seething Shogun Sake which was about halfway done and a party bag. I shook it some more and 8 bottles of Broseph Ale and one of the THICCCest 40’s of Trailerbrew Beer I had ever saw fell out and landed on the floor with a CLUNK, everybody looked at me in disbelief and then Kat said "The hell are you going to do with all that Liquor?" THEN I shouted "Get wasted of course, what else are you supposed to do with Alcohol Drinks? Tonight is going to be the night of DRUNKEN GHOST STORIES!!!" and I threw bottles of beer at Kat, Rami, and Sammy, then I raked the whole pile into a pile in the middle of the room and I went in my gear bag and I got out a bunch of orange Glow Sticks and I cracked them and shoved them into the pile of bottles so it looked like a campfire, then I said "Now everybody sit around the fire and I’ll start the story." Rami sighed and said "Fine Steve, but this better be good" as he sat down in one of the two metal chairs, then Sammy plopped down on the floor next to him and started opening the top on his bottle, Kat came over and threw 2 pillows on the floor and sat down and said said "Alright Steve, Imma need some serious liquid courage for this, but go ahead," so I opened my 40 oz. of Trailerbrew and I took a big swig of it, then I cut off the lights in the room and I sat down in the other Metal chair and I started my story. *** BEGIN STORY *** OK SO this one’s gonna sound Ridiculous but I swear it happened and it all starts with a place in Kuzuu County called The Wrenched Groin, it used to be The Wretched Grain, An old grain silo on the edge of town but somebody spraypainted the sign years ago and changed GRAIN to GROIN and Wretched to Wrenched and it stuck, I guess That’s Kuzuu for you. Anyway back when I was 12 me, my little brother Mikey and my two buddies Shane Biggums and Tucker Nut McWeevil decided to go to The Wrenched Groin one night, Everyone in town Said the place is Cursed on account of way back in the day the silo collapsed during a huge storm and Buried all the corn inside, according to Legend it was haunted by The Corn Man which was a creepy ass guy made of corn and dirt who snatches up kids dumb enough to go poking around. SO one night Tuckers like "Yo we gotta go in there and prove The Corn Man’s real!!" And I was all in, too on account of it would make us Legends at school, Mikey didnt love the idea but Shane hyped it up so Mikey went along, We snuck out there with a flashlight, a baseball bat with nails in it and an old ass camera that BARELY worked, the silo was huge and rusted and barely standing, we could hear the Wind Noises coming through the holes inside of it and it made noises like it was going to fall down any minute. THEN we crawled through a Hole in the side and we were standing in a bunch of old dusty corn, Mikey was holding up the bat like it was a Bushido Blade and he was shaking SO bad it looked like he was gonna faint, Shane started taking Terrible Polaroids and Tucker started making Ghost Noises. MEANWHILE I was telling them to shut up because I don’t wanna get caught by whoever owns the Land. Then the most Terrible thing happened, we heard this weird crunching shound like someone walking through the corn or something chewing on it, Mikey froze up and said "IT’S HIM!!! THE CORN MAN!!!" I was about to laugh it off but then Shane’s flashlight flickered off and died, now we were in total Darkness and the crunching sound was getting LOUDER, CLOSER. Tucker freaked out and tripped over some old corn sacks and yelled "HE’S GOT ME THE CORN MAN’S GOT ME IM GONNA DIE" Mikey Was swinging the bat at the air except he was hitting nothing, I grabbed Shane and tried to pull him out the door. But then, I saw the most TERRIBLE thing… A SHAPE, tall and hunched over and covered in what looked like corn husks, it LURCHED toward us out of the Darkness. It had on a flannel shirt but its face…oh god its face was just a MESS of dirt and corn and something not right. Shane tried to take a picture but the flash BLINDED us and when it was cleared the Thing was gone. We RAN THE HELL OUT OF THERE, Tucker was screaming, my brother Mikey was swinging that bat at anything that moved and Shane was hollering THIS IS AWESOME like a complete maniac. We DIDNT stop running until we got halfway back to town. Tucker swears up and down that The Corn Man was trying to drag him into the silo but all I saw him do was trip over some busted grain bags. The next day, Shane came over to my house with the Polaroids, most of them were Garbage, but 1…it showed a BLURRY figure crouching in the distance WITH A FLANNEL SHIRT AND ALL. Nobody at school believed us, but the 4 of us KNOW WHAT WE SAW. *** END STORY *** "Moral of the story? Stay away from old silos with dumb names, The Corn Man’s probably still out there waiting for the next group of idiots to wander in." Then I did a huge long gagging burp and then took another hit of the Broseph Ale to make my Point, then I looked at Rami, Kat, and Sammy. "Well was it scary or what?" "Steve That was" Rami said "Unique, I’ll give you that." "Hell yeah!" I Hollered, "I know how to set the mood, maybe after we save the world or whatever we can come back here and do some REAL ghost busting huh?" I winked at Kat, she rolled her eyes but she was smiling, I could tell she was Into it.

Saturday Evening, June 12, 2077 Fire Watch Tower Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California Steve returned from his wood-gathering with singed hair and an armful of foul smelling splinters, and informed us that our outhouse had a new rustic view, because that was exactly what this place needed. Maybe with better ventilation, it would at least stink less. "Well the good news is, I got some wood, so that’s something," Steve said, and dumped the suspcicious wood right on the table where we were going to eat. "OH also I filled up the lift with the rest of the lumber BUT its going to have to get Hacked or something on account of its still locked out." Kat sighed and muttered to herself, "no rest for the wicked". She pulled on a second hoodie over her first one and headed down the ladder. "Well, I guess we can try starting a fire with this," I said. "Assuming we have a lighter." "OR we can use my Gang Jazzler!" Steve said, eagerly stuffing stinky splinteres into the wood stove. I said "um," and then stopped talking, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what a gang jazzler was, but was pretty sure I would find out anyway. Hopefully it wasn’t explosives. Luckily, Rami handed Steve an actual lighter. "Use this, so you don’t use up cyberware that you might need later," Rami said, which raised more questions than it answered. While Steve lit the fire, I checked the cupboard for a pot with a lid that fit. Cooking over outhouse wood probably posed similar health risks to cooking over lighter fluid or anything else you wouldn’t want your food to touch, so we should try to minimize contamination. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a pot with a lid that fit. The best I could come up with was a small sauce pan with a huge lid from a mysteriously absent larger pot, that would mostly seal out the fumes. I brought what I’d found to the table where Rami had gathered the freeze dried beans and veggie flavored kibbles, and oh my, the smell coming from the woodstove was intense, and not in a good way. "Steve, how can you stand that?" I asked. Steve was sitting right there by the fire, stoking it while it billowed smoke in his face. "I think the outhose explosion burned off all my nose hairs," Steve said. "That’s… not how sense of smell works? I think having no nose hairs would make it worse, since they help filter pollutants. I think you were thinking of inner ear hairs." Then, something hummed to life underneath the elevator’s trap door. Rami heaved the door open and latched it to a shackle on the wall so that it couldn’t fall closed again. We all watched as Kat rose up from the hole in the floor, grinning and frozen in a "Tada!" pose. But before she was fully into the room, she gagged and started coughing. "Oh god. Can we just eat cold food tonight?" Kat asked. "I don’t mind my kibble stale and crunchy if it means we don’t have to smell that." Rami closed the door of the wood stove, and all its airvents. "Steve, I saved the microwave from your beans and bacon. You shouldn’t microwave cans, the metal will light the microwave on fire." "But that’s how you know it’s working!" Steve said, at the same time that Kat said "Why oh why couldn’t you have mentioned that before he started burning toilet wood?" "It’s important to know that the stove works, in case we run out of solar charge for the microwave. Tomorrow, some of us can search for both wood and wood pirates in the direction of the broken fire tower. From the air, it looked like it was not all metal like this one." So we found some coffee mugs that we could microwave without them being lit on fire, and we put a can of beans and some veggie kibble in each of those and put it all in the microwave. When the microwave dinged, Steve hopped up to get the food, Rami waved him away, and then he brought the entire microwave platter to the table with all the mugs on it, holding it with a dish towel so he wouldn’t burn his hands. "Dinner is served." We each got one of the least rusty spoons. I ate carefully, since it was hot and cold at the same time, and tried not to make faces about the flavor. That was a real challenge, but I didn’t want Rami to think we didn’t like his cooking. It wasn’t his fault that he only had terrible ingredients and an old microwave to work with.

MEANWHILE… Sammy came back up inside the fire watch tower looking COLD and said to me and Rami, "The shower is treasonous and the bathroom is a real outhouse that smells almost as bad as gangrene." "How can a shower be treasonous?" Rami asked. "Well, technically it's just not obvious where to stand to get wet or not get wet. But also it just dumps water on you." Said Sammy. "Why were you expecting the outhouse to be fake?" I asked. THEN Sammy said "I…don't know what I was expecting? Anyway, what's the plan for dinner? Is there a way we can warm things up without starting a forest fire?" "WELL, I already put some Bean and Bacon inside of the old microwave over there and its microwaving the can now, I saw a thing over by the wall that says Wood Stove and maybe we can put a fire inside of it." I said, then I pointed at a thing that looked like it was about 100 years old and had one of those Squiggly pipes that goes up inside the wall and a door on the front of it that looked like those Knight helmets you see in an ancient kind of TV show I had saw called "Cartoons," you know, the ones where for some reason some Knight is chasing a cat around the neighborhood and trying to chop his head off with a Sword, but then the cat turns around and slams a bunch of On Fire logs inside the knight’s helmet and then the Knight runs around in a circle on fire, MEANWHILE the cat starts to play the Piano while laughing manically in his face, one of those helmets. "I dont know Steve, it says ABSOLUTELY NO LOCAL WOOD on the outside of it and we arent supposed to disturb the Ecology, in fact thats why we brought you on this job to know the Law Things about that so we dont get in trouble with Biotechnica." Sammy said. Then I said "Dont worry man, I got all the laws right here" and then I waved my Forest Lawsuits 2076 shard around to make my point. "I will just make sure I dont pick up any wood that looks like its from around here." Rami looked at me with Suspicion but I know it would be OK, so I slid down the fire pole to the bottom of the fire watch tower, it was dark as ass outside but I had a Flashlight and a pack of potato chips so I knew I could find some wood in no time. I walked around for like 10 minutes trying to find something that didnt look like it was from around here, eventually I stumbled into the Woods and there was a HUGE shadow over me, I screamed on account of at first I thought it was a Bigfoot or something and I Thought I was going to get another Chupacabra Butt Probe or some shit. But then I looked up and I realized it was the Outhouse Sammy had talked about, and it was OLD, I mean it looked like it had been there since the Wild West, it was made all out of Wood and it had one of those moon holes inside the front so you star gaze while you did your Business. WELL I had been holding my Business since Night City on account of there had been some lady puking in the helicopter Toilet the entire time we were flying over and I really didnt want to keep holding it, so I stepped up to the Outhouse door and opened it, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD THE SMELL, it was like someone had ate a Roadkill Pizza and then they chased it with some A1 and anchovies and then they let it rot for a week and THEN they poured some Ammonia in it and bottled it up in an airtight jar and THEN they opened that jar in my face, it was THAT BAD. I covered my mouth with my shirt and Stepped inside anyways because I really had to go, I thought I was gonna cough up potato chips but that was better than peeing my pants, the only problem was after the door Banged closed behind me it was SO dark I couldnt see my hand in front of my face and someone had put a Metal plate over the freaking Moon Hole, so I fumbled around for an old lighter Sensei Ronald had gave me on one of his smoke brakes back at the Power Fists Dojo, mean while the old man stank cloud was getting REALLY rank in there, I finally found the lighter and hung my Pants on the toilet door and then struck a Flame. When the lighter sparked there was a short spark and I saw the room and all the Smell lines for a 1/2 second but then there was a GUMONGOUS flash and then an explosion and the whole freaking Outhouse was lit up like the 4th of July, the fumes must of lit on fire or something and the walls and the Roof of the outhouse got blew off and I was standing there in my Froot of the Looms in the middle of the Rockefeller Forest, I started screaming like a madman and ran out of the blasted Wreckage of the Outhouse, there was only the toilet box/stool left, the walls had fell totally down and the roof was somewhere off in the trees, I was fanning my Pants to try to put out the fire but that only made it worse, the fabric must of got infused with the fumes, I finally managed to stomp them out and then I reached up to make sure my eyebrows were still there, they were and also my hair was Singed but it was still there, I stopped for a second to breathe hard and I buckled down on my knees, then I looked up to see did I Start a forest fire. LUCKILY the explosion must not of been very Incindiary because even though some of the wood was smoking none of the bits had lit on fire the way my clothes did which was good on account of I would have had a REALLY hard time explaining to BIOTECHNICA how come it was that the Attorney who was supposed to do Ecology Protection Compliance was the one who had blew up and then lit their forest on fire. I stood there for like 5 minutes getting my breath caught up and checking to see if anything was Sundered, then I looked over and I could see in the distance Kat had got done with her shower and had went back upstairs, I put my pants on and I saw my Ecology book sticking out of my pocket, the screen was all melted down but other than that it was fine, then I remembered I had came out here for wood but I had not got any yet, I couldnt go up there and tell everyone I had detonanted the Outhouse on accident AND not have any wood, that would be too much, then I remembered that the outhouse was built out of an assload of wood it didnt need anymore, so I went over to where the Outhouse used to be and got some of the longer Splinters that were left and I started loading it up in the Fire Watch tower’s lift. After it was filled up I tried to send the lift up but then I remembered that it was locked out on account of the keys were had werent programmed right. "BALL DAMN IT!" I Yelled, then I climbed back up the ladder and went inside the fire watch tower. Sammy and Rami were talking about something, I did not know what, and Kat was drying her hair with a towel. When they all turned around to look at me they looked at me like someone who had just got blew up in an Outhouse explosion, which it had happened. "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?" Intoned Rami, his voice was deep and Rough like the pits of Hell itself. "WELL" I said "Apparently Fireworks + Outhouse = BAD combo" "Steve what does that mean?" Asked Kat, she had a Serious look on her face. "Does that mean we dont have a Toilet anymore?" "NO the Toilet is still there" I said "But the view is more Rustic now unfortunately." "I dont like the sound of that" Said Sammy. "Well the good news is" I said "I got some wood, so that’s something." Then I dropped a few pieces of Toilet Lumber on the table. "OH also I filled up the lift with the rest of the lumber BUT its going to have to get Hacked or something on account of its still locked out."

Night City street map, circa 2077 (click to enlarge)

Saturday June 12, 2077, Afternoon Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California I let off the gas as we approached the gate, and stopped next to the concrete box guardhouse. A grey haired lady in a khaki rangers’ uniform slammed the sliding window open and growled, "state yer business". Luckily, Kat answered for me. "Corporate sent us to take care of your wood pirate problem." "Uh-huh. And that takes two AVs and a car. Very environmentally friendly." "Two?" I asked. "One arrived this morning, the other flew right over my head in the middle of the night. We’re all on high alert because of the thefts, and I figure, I know two things. One team doesn’t need two AVs and a car, and your vehicle looks like it could fit a lot of burls." "We really are here to help," I said. "The AV was Biotechnica’s idea, and we took the train most of the way." "I think she’s more worried about our motives than our CHOOH2," Kat said to me, and then to the ranger, "You can search us if you need to, we don’t have saws or anything. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as we ID the pirates, and you’ll never know we were here." The ranger grunted. "I’ll need to see your ID, then. If you’re lying, my boss needs to know who to hunt down." "Suuuuuuure, no problem," Kat said with a nervous laugh. "I’m just going to reach into my pocket and get it out - you do the same Sammy, no sudden moves." I realized then, that the barrel of an implanted gun was peeking out from inside the ranger’s sleeve. I carefully took the passport from Kat and handed it over, along with my passport and Thrifty Care ID. "This one’s expired," the ranger said. Kat shrugged. "Sorry, I don’t get out a lot." The ranger looked back and forth between us, and the passports. Kat really didn’t look much like me, but our hair colors were sort of similar, and the passport was old enough that you’d expect some differences. "Sam and Samantha, born on the same day." "Our parents only had one name picked out and couldn’t agree on another one," Kat said. "Uh huh." I made my best effort to channel Steve and proclaimed, "you can trust me, I’m a doctor!" The ranger raised an eyebrow, and said "I don’t think that’s relevant." "Sorry, my roommate told me to say it." The ranger sighed. Something clicked and whirred inside her arm, and the gun barrel disappeared. "You two are suspicious as all get-out," she said, "but not in a cutting down my trees and shooting at me sort of way. And you know about the thefts, so you’re not just tourists trying to weasel your way into a free campsite." She scanned all three IDs with her agent, and passed them back to me. Then she entered a code, and the razor wire gate slid aside. "I’m letting you in. Don’t start any open fires or leave garbage around like a bunch of doombas, and you and I won’t have any problems." I took the passports back and drove into the forest, nice and slow since the guards at gated communities tended to take it personal if you broke the speed limit right in front of them, and this place was gated even if the ranger was the only one who lived here. Since we were driving slow anyway, I cracked the windows to smell the fresh air. I’d hoped this place would look more like home, but of course it didn’t. The East hadn’t suffered nearly as many droughts as California had, and I’d missed the scrubby patches of trees and sumac bushes that popped up anyplace that no one cared to mow. Here, the trees were mostly drought resistant cedars and other conifers, with the sizes and species mixed uncannily evenly. It was hard to tell while driving, but a certain texture of foliage on gently swooping branches kept catching my eye. It almost looked like the hybrid hemlocks with tiny cones and short little needles, which I’d only ever seen growing under glass at the Philadelphia Natural History Museum. The exhibit said that even with the hybridization and cloning efforts, the combined pressures of invasive insects and blight made them nearly extinct in the wild. If those really were hemlocks growing out in the open… wow. Biotechnica might actually be doing some good for a change. "Yeah," Kat said. "What?" "You said wow." "Oh - I hadn’t realized I’d said anything." "Guess you were too busy being wowed," Kat said. "It’s amazing that places like this exist." Just then, something started buzzing way in the back of the VersiWagon’s trunk. I started to pull over, and then Kat unbuckled and said "don’t worry, I’ll get it." I continued slowly down the road as she scrambled into the back seat and leaned over it, looking through our luggage for the walkie talkie.

June 12, 2077 (Saturday) Train Station San Francisco, California Afternoon ___________________________ "Never mind, I’d rather pretend that era of my life never happened. It was a fashion risk, and it didn’t pay off - the future doesn’t look like that and never did," I offered as I opened my door and stepped out of the car into the gray sunlight: typical for San Francisco and also somehow symbolic of the deliberately vague message the doctor had just given me. "Hey, fashion is cyclical," Sammy countered with a shrug. "In another decade, you'll be in style again." "I'll believe it when I see it," I snorted as he joined me, punctuating my words with a slam of my car door. "But…do you get what I’m saying?" The rear tailgate of the VersaWagon opened with a too-cheerful "beep beep beep" that was more annoying than useful. I walked around to the car’s tailgate and grabbed my duffel bag, throwing it over my shoulder with a practiced flair. "Yeah. I get it. You’re transgender. Started life as a girl, figured things out, decided that’s not you. I’ve seen it before. And, so what?" Sammy stared at me with wide, shocked eyes, the kind of look I’d only seen in movies when someone had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "And, uh, you’re… cool with that?" I laughed. "Sammy, I’ve seen people turn themselves into everything from actual machinery to sentient piles of living internet. You being trans is pretty low on the ‘shock-o-meter’ scale." Sammy let out a breath, his body sagging with relief. "I…guess maybe I thought you’d be different." "Different how?" I implored. "I don’t know," Sammy said with a shrug, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "You’re…you’re so…" "Well-adjusted? Competent? Not routinely high?" I supplied helpfully, with a dramatic wave of my hands. Sammy barked out a laugh, the tension between us dissolving. "Well, yeah. Those things, for sure." "Sammy," I replied, nudging him with my elbow. "I’ve known you for a grand total of what, a week? I can already tell you’re one of those people who are too hard on themselves. You’re brains, guts, and you actually care about people. That’s more than I can say for 90% of the assholes I’ve met in this life. Let me let you in on a couple of secrets. I don’t care who or what you were born as, where you come from, who you used to be, or who you want to be. I care about the person in front of me now. And…Sammy? Right now? I’m glad you’re here. And, to answer your question…yeah. You’re special." Sammy smiled gratefully, his eyes misty. I pretended to ignore his attempts to regain his composure. "Thanks, Kat." I grabbed his duffel and slung it over my other shoulder. "There’s…there’s…something else, isn’t there?" I pressed. We were about to board a train to god knows where. I needed to know - longed to know - if the chemistry I felt, and, goddamn it, I hated to even consider the possibility, the feelings I might be developing for my cute, nerdy companion - weren’t one-sided. Sammy chewed his bottom lip, his gaze drifting off into the distance before meeting mine again. "No, Kat, I appreciate you asking. But, if there was, I don’t know if the train station is the right time or place to…" The blast of the maglev’s horn cut off the rest of Sammy’s words. "Another time, then?" I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as we joined the growing throng of passengers lined up to board the train. Sammy smiled and squeezed my hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through my body. "Another time." *** The maglev was luxurious, the over-priced tickets worth every single credit of their value. Sammy nodded off against the reclining seat’s headrest, his body finally succumbing to sleep deprivation. He ultimately fell against me, his head lolling onto my shoulder. I didn’t mind. His presence was…comforting. I, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep if I tried. Too many thoughts raced through my mind. Thoughts of Sammy, our near-death experiences, and of the uncertain future that awaited us both. The urban landscape of San Francisco sped by in a blur of neon-drenched avenues, replaced by rolling hillsides and the occasional farmstead. Doctor Voss, I mused, acting on a reckless urge and daring to run my fingers through Sammy’s unruly hair. How about that for irony? Me, a literal outlaw, falling for a nerdy student doctor with his whole life and all the potential it contains…still in front of him. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I gently pushed Sammy away and quietly headed for the Art Deco train’s diner car. I needed a drink…or seven. The diner was mostly empty, save for a few business types huddled around holographic displays, determining the fates of men and empires. None paid me any mind as I slid onto a stool and signaled for the bartender. "Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster," I ordered, eyes fixed on the passing countryside. The glow of signs reflecting off the tinted windows cast ever-shifting patterns across the car’s interior. "What the fuck is that?" the man demanded. I rolled my eyes, remembering where I was. "Make it a classic Manhattan, if you please…and keep the bitters handy." He grumbled something under his breath, but he set about making my drink. I took a long look at my reflection in the smoky mirror behind the bar. You look like shit, I thought, running a hand through my short hair. There’s no way anybody’s hitting on you. The bartender slid my drink across the counter with a clatter, and I took a long sip. The familiar burn of ninety-proof nostalgia washed over me, sending shivers down my spine. "You alone, hon?" he asked in a comforting tone. "In a manner of speaking," I replied. "I’ve got…affairs to conclude. Trust me, you don’t want any part of it." He looked at me a moment longer before shrugging. "Suit yourself, miss. But if you need to call anyone, there’s a free phone around the corner." "Nah," I sighed, "I don’t have anyone to call." That wasn’t entirely true. There were always my parents, but I couldn’t do that to them. They had enough to worry about, and the last thing they needed was to know their only daughter was a wanted woman. As far as they knew, I was a successful middle manager at Arasaka, and right now, it seemed only sensible to leave it that way. I gulped down the last of my drink and slammed the glass on the counter. This wasn’t helping. I had to focus on my one goal: completing the job. And then, somehow fixing the messes I had made in my friends' lives before disappearing from their existences for good. If that meant doing so at the barrel of a gun, so be it. The bartender looked at me. "You ok, hun? Awful early for a drink." "Yeah, just…thinking." I lied. "I've got some issues to work out, that's all. Any place on this train to sleep until we get to Humboldt County?" He jerked his head in the direction of a nearby gilded door. "We got some bunks downstairs, handful of eddies for the trip. but you'd better hurry, they go fast." "Thanks," I replied, slipping him a twenty-eddie bil. The bunks were nothing to write home about, just a sleeper car with bunk beds, but it would do for the next few hours. I drifted off into a nightmare-fueled, fitful sleep, only to be awakened moments later (though, in actuality, several hours later) by the Medford train station announcement blaring through an antiquated speaker system. "Welcome to Medford Station. Please remember that the maximum time one can remain in the station without credentials is fifteen minutes. Deadly force will be used if you remain beyond your allotted time. Thank you, and have a pleasant day." That did not exactly inspire confidence.

Saturday June 12, 2077, 9 AM San Francisco, CA I thought I’d done a pretty good job staying awake on the drive to San Francisco. I’d been eating coffee beans and telling Kat with a K how our pet cat with a C kept having accidents in the Surgery Shack and also had a really long purple tongue, and we should probably get that looked at, when the car lurched and my head banged the dashboard and the glove box fell open in my lap. "Sorry," Kat hissed. "‘s fine," I mumbled. Downtown was a mosh pit of traffic, and the skyscrapers’ reflective glass windows made the too-bright sun seem to come from all directions. "Crap. I’m the worst copilot." "Don’t worry about it, we’ve all got to sleep sometime. Is the station still on Market Street? It’s been a minute since I pulled the SanFran maps." "Yeah - I mean I think so?" I scrambled for my agent. "Let’s hope so," Kat said, swinging the car into the turn. The map kept lagging, and then Kat slammed the breaks which made me swipe instead of tap and I had to reload the whole thing again while traffic kept stopping and starting all around us. Finally, the map behaved. "Okay, yes, Market Street. Right at the end." "You don’t say." I finally looked up and there was the station ahead of us, mostly open-air and roofed by glass and metal canopies shaped like fragments of geodesic domes. Kat followed the signs for the autotrain - as opposed to the ferries that also departed from here - and pulled around one end of the station to a bay of parking spots flanked by those machines that pull your car through the car wash. Kat pulled in, wiggled the car back and forth until the pop-up safety barrier at the edge of the platform displayed a green smiley face, put the car in neutral and turned it off. "Made it, with twenty minutes to spare," Kat said, tossing me the keys. "I just remembered, I need to give you ‘your’ passport," I said, fishing it out of my scrubs pocket and handing it to Kat. "If anyone asks, you’re Samantha today." "Huh," Kat said. "I thought your parents would’ve been at least a little bit creative." "Oh, um. It’s not my sister’s passport, it’s my old one. So if anybody’s uncreative it’s me, but I’ve been Sammy since before I can remember, so it didn’t make sense to change it." "Wait, how does that…" Kat opened it up to the photo page, showing teenage me in a polo shirt and too-perfect private school crew cut. I instinctively grimaced. She held the picture up to compare it to me and said "oh. oh… Oh!" as she put the pieces together. She flipped the passport closed and looked at me mock-appraisingly. "Well, you’re still cute." "Thanks," I said. "I just hate that picture, I looked like the kid version of a corporate drone." "It could be worse. I was into holowear at that age - had a flex display jacket, glow shoes and an LED ball cap, the full Marty McFly look." Kat made a gesture like she was adjusting an imaginary backwards ballcap. "McWho?" "Never mind, I’d rather pretend that era of my life never happened. It was a fashion risk, and it didn’t pay off - the future doesn’t look like that and never did."

June 12, 2077 (Saturday) Militech VL-11 Corporate Bus Chopper North of Night City, California Early morning ___________________________ I sat in the leather seat of the VL-11 Corporate Bus. The rotors hum loudly, shaking the cabin as we flew over Night City. The city lights outside the window were bright. But in front of them, the Badlands were dark and empty. I liked looking at the Badlands. Better than the city. "Not bad for a Combat Cabbie and a lawyer, huh?" I say to my goofy seat mate. He bobbed his head, working on some kind of stress management thing. I just call it twitching. "Dude, I don’t get it, Rami. You’ve been driving fancy people years and still don’t get used to flying in style?" Steve asked, waving his arms around. "It’s… nice. Better than a taxi. Better than the streets," I said. Big Johnson, the senior security guard, leaned forward. "So you still didn't tell us Rami?" Cyber stuff?" "Yeah, I have some," I said. "You need more than just wheels in this town. Combat Cab is same as running with 6th Street. Can’t just drive. Gotta be ready to fight." My right arm tensed. "These? Gorilla arms. Sturdy. Strong. I can lift the front of a cab if I need to. They help when things are tough. Sometimes I get called out for more than a ride." Steve's eyes widened. "Damn, Rami. I thought you just drove cars and dodged bullets. I didn't realize you had cyber muscle." "I have to stay alive." I explained. "My eyes are Kiroshi optics. Night vision. I also have a smart link to my Kan Tao A-22B Chao." "My left leg got messed up when I was in the Wraiths. I have a replacement. Cyberleg. I can jump just fine when I need to. Jump enhancer installed." Johnson nodded. "The Wraiths? You ran with them?" "I had to. There was no choice. In the Badlands, I could run with them or die." I look out at the distant desert. "I was young. I thought I could get away with anything. I didn't know it was just another prison." "How'd you get out?" I shrugged. "You don’t. Just survive. Got out because Combat Cab found me. They needed drivers who could handle rough runs. I could. 6th Street runs it now, so it’s not that different. Just better pay." Steve laughed nervously. "You’re really making it sound like you're living on the edge. Is that why you got all that tech in you?" I nodded. "Night City is like this. If you don’t pack heat and tech, you’re done. Got a pain editor. It blocks pain when things get bad. I have used it more than once on the job. Sometimes I use it for my leg when it aches. The biomonitor, it keeps me in check, makes sure I don’t push myself too far. Long shifts, no breaks. It is letting me know if I’m about to crash." Johnson seemed impressed. "What is it like going from gang life to a legitimate job? Sixth Street is still a gang, right?" I smiled. "Different? Not so much. I get paid pretty well now. No one's going to shoot me in the back because I didn't like their music. But it's still tough. They run the streets like any other gang. It's about survival. " The helicopter continued to fly smoothly. I looked at Steve and Big Johnson. Steve looked a little nervous, which surprised me, as a lawyer he must have spent enough time away from his desk to understand life abroad. Big Johnson knew the streets. I pulled my Kan Tao A-22B Chao from its holster. "Smart Link synced with the Kiroshi optics. Smart gun. Kan Tao. First class. Matches my optics. Just aim and look, and it will do the rest in Night City or the Badlands, and it could save your life. Accurate. Fast. Peace of mind. Better than my old Liberty." Steve's eyes went wide. "Have you ever used this thing while driving?" "More times than I care to remember," I replied. "Sometimes a gang member wants more than just a ride. Sometimes a corporate coordinator thinks your client is too valuable. Whatever it is, I'm ready." Outside, the scene had changed. We had left the city behind. Below us was rough terrain, cracked earth and jagged mountains. Arid land. I saw the gleam of metal, perhaps a caravan of nomads or raiders. It reminded me of my youth. Now it seemed like another life. I looked around at the cabin. VL-11 was elegant. Polished chrome seats, white accents and fake leather. Another Biotech guard sat by the door, scanning the room. Always nervous, like he expected trouble. Company types always were. Big Johnson interrupted my thoughts. "So 6th Street is a better gang?" I thought for a moment as I holstered my weapon. "It doesn’t make much of a difference. You still have to be careful. You’re still ready to fight. But now? I’m getting paid. No one will attack me for not following the code or wearing the right colors." I looked out the window again. "It was always about survival in the Wraiths. You took what you could. I ran with the Wraiths because that I had no other choice. Combat Cab? It's still about survival. A gang runs it, but at least I can live. I have cyberware, a car, a job, a paycheck, and I live another day." Steve laughs nervously. "Looks like you've had one hell of a life, dude." I shrugged. "This is Night City. Adapt or die. I adapted."

Cyberware: Internal Agent (HL 3) Gang Jazzler (HL 7) Cyberliver (HL 2) Poser Chip (HL 14) Animal Behaviour Chip (HL 14) DeathTrance (HL 3) Fashionware: Turn-On-Show-Off Nails KILL display Heuristic Health Monitor

Basement: Surgery Shack When you enter the Surgery Shack, you step up two steps from the sidewalk, pass through the bamboo shaped archway and double glass doors and find yourself in a vestibule. There is an umbrella stand, but leaving an umbrella there is a risky proposition. Ahead of you, one half-story high set of stairs leads up to Steve Jenkins' law office, and the other leads down to Sammy's Surgery Shack. (A sign hanging between the two sets of stairs has arrows pointing to each, saying "sew" and "sue".) At the bottom of the Surgery Shack stairs is a beaded curtain. When you pass through it, you see an abstract curvy-shaped bar to your right, and some island themed decor and a couple beaded curtains leading to other parts of the venue to your left. Straight ahead are the bathrooms. Going to the left, you pass the private dining room (one of those two bead curtained doorways) and some fake palm trees, and find yourself turned around to face the front of the building again. There is a bay window that looks out on the sidewalk from below, four booths, and a few tables for two shoved into nooks. Returning to the bar area, if you pass through the other beaded curtain, you enter a basic commercial kitchen. It has steel counters, a dishwasher, an oven, a griddle, and a massive floor-to-ceiling refrigeration unit with freezer drawers at the bottom. It also has a big sink with a faucet can be pulled out on a hose, and a drain in the floor; these last two things are very useful in an illegal apartment lacking a shower. At the back of the kitchen is a set of double doors that lead to the Loading Dock. It formerly had a pantry along the back wall, but with all the shelves removed it is just barely large enough to fit Sammy's VersiWagon. The platform elevator that serves the loading dock is broken, but it broke in just the right way to be usable as a ramp. To get the vehicle back out again, you may need someone to help push. (If you are visiting the Surgery Shack in June 2077, there are two chalk body outlines between the booths, one slumped over the bar, and one at the doorway between the kitchen and bar area. There is also a lot of blood. So much blood. It smells disturbingly similar to the meat section of a disreputable discount grocery shop. If you are visiting the Surgery Shack in July 2077 or later, hopefully Sammy has managed to find a cleaner who didn't run away screaming and it smells okay by now.) Renovations: 2077-06-04: Kat moves into the space behind the bar 2077-06-11: Kat has built a wall on top of the bar for privacy and crammed a bed into the space. The door is a curtain. She has cleaned up some of the bloodstains and chalk outlines. She attached a garden hose to the sink in the mens' room and hung the sprayer end of the hose from the ceiling, taking advantage of the built-in floor drainage to make the room into a shower.

Sunday morning, June 13, 2077 Fire Watch Tower Biotechnica Reference Forest RF003 Humboldt County, Northern California ___________________________ I woke up on the pile of pillows next to Steve’s beer and glowstick "campfire", still faintly glowing. Someone’s fart had startled me awake, but other than that I felt awesome. Sleep was pretty amazing stuff. I didn’t want to wake anyone else, so I took my agent off my wrist and put it in aquarium mode so I could see by the orange and blue glow of Blubby and his simulated pond. I took a piece of paper out of my bag, folded it in half, and drew lines on it like a postcard. Then I wrote: Dear Mom and Dad, I’m sorry it’s been so long since I called - work has been intense. But you know what else is in-tents? Not my weekend camping trip, actually. Long story short, I found a place to rent with this lawyer I met at work, and his friend has connections at Biotechnica, and we’re all staying in a fire watch tower in a reference forest for the weekend. Our other new friend Kat is camping with us, too. We’re roughing it, but the views are amazing. I hope you’re having a good weekend, too. Can you tell Rik "get well soon" for me? I saw his post about the dirt bike crash on the way here, and didn’t get the chance to say it myself. Love, Sammy When I finished, everyone else was still asleep, so I wrote "back soon" on another sheet of paper that I left on the table, picked up my hiking boots, and climbed down the ladder wearing just my socks so I wouldn’t wake anyone. I needed to take care of business, and also wanted to find some fresh food to go with the powdered "eggs" we’d probably have for breakfast. I stopped on the concrete pad under the watch tower to put my boots on, and then went to the outhouse to do what needed doing. It was a lot less smelly now that it had a view - the lack of walls and roof must have improved the ventilation. After that, I took a walk. I didn’t want to run into any wood pirates while I was alone out here - especially since I’d forgotten to grab the gun and camouflage clothing - so I stayed within sight of the base of the fire watch tower. I didn’t expect to find actual vegetable-vegetables, but I knew you could eat dandelions, clover, and a few other common field weeds, if the soil wasn’t polluted. It seemed to be too shady for them to grow here, though. Then, something caught my eye - a clump of "grass" with tubular leaves instead of flat blades, poking up in a clearing. Wild onions. These plants were all over the playground of the elementary school I’d gone to, so I was pretty sure Biotechnica wouldn’t mind having one or two fewer. It might even be invasive. I pulled up a couple plants, just enough to add some flavor to breakfast, since we didn’t have a refrigerator. They didn’t have little onion bulbs on the end like I’d expected, but maybe it was just the wrong time of year. I went back to the watch tower, but didn’t go up the ladder - I couldn’t hear any talking, so the others were probably still asleep. I rinsed the onion greens under the rain barrel, mostly avoiding getting myself wet, and then looked for someplace to cut them. I’d left some supplies from work in the pocket of my Guess What? Chicken Butt! scrubs the day I was banned from wearing them, including an alcohol swab and a scalpel blade in a sealed package. (Did sleeping with a blade in my pocket that could’ve done accidental surgery on me if I’d rolled over wrong make me a real edgerunner, now? It felt dangerous.) I sanitized the top of the elevator control box, unwrapped the scalpel, and started cutting up the onion greens. They smelled nice and garlicy, which was not what you’d expect from onions, but anything would be an improvement on powdered syntheggs. Using the scalpel blade without a scalpel handle was tricky, which made me think of a song, and I didn’t think anyone could hear me at the top of the fire tower from all the way down here at the bottom, so I sang it. "Oh, I have all my fingers The knife goes chop chop chop And if I hit my fingers My fingers will come off" "Chop chop chop, chop chop chop I’m picking up the speed And if I hit my fingers My hand will start to bleed" I heard Kat call down from above, "whatcha dooooooooin?" I looked up and saw her leaning out the window to look at me. "Waking people up," I said, barely louder than a normal talking voice so I wouldn’t wake more people up. "Sorry!" Kat’s head disappeared from the window, and a moment later, the elevator cables started moving. I kept dicing up the onion greens, still bloodlessly so far. When the elevator neared the bottom, Kat leaned her arms on the control box, even though she had to lean way over to reach. She was wearing this spaghetti strap top that really suited her, and I focused really hard on looking only at her face til the elevator reached the bottom and we were at eye level with each other. Meanwhile, Kat looked really focused on my hands. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Checking your work. Always good to know your surgeon can handle a blade on his own before using it on anyone else." "Let’s hope we don’t have to put that to the test." "Agreed. Rami’s upstairs burning some coffee, you want some?" "Burning?" I asked. "That’s how it smells, but it might be mostly ash to begin with. It’s one of those cheap packs of instant where ‘coffee’ is misspelled for legal reasons." "Yikes. I guess I picked a good time to detox." "But in all seriousness, Steve spotted a glow out in the woods last night. Something that shouldn’t be there - could be the pirates’ camp. We were going to make a plan over breakfast to scout it out, and also find somewhere I can jack into the security net. You should be there."

The adventure continues in 2027-06-12: Defense of Reference Forest 003!

Financial Status Steve and Sammy purchased the building from a property conglomerate under a Rent to Own agreement. After Sammy's down payment, they owe a total of 910000€$ on the building including interest (not avoidable via prepayment). If a payment is over two weeks late, the real estate corp will send collections agents or begin eviction proceedings. Rent to Own Expenses Total owed (including interest) 910000€$ Sammy’s rent 2500€$ Steve’s rent 2500€$ Payoff date February 30, 2092

Expenses Lifestyle Lifestyles are described by the food you can afford, but they also include utilities, maintaining your gear, etc. The cost of a lifestyle doesn’t include a place to live - rent is paid separately. Lifestyle Monthly Cost Kibble 100€$ Genric Prepack 300€$ Good Prepack 600€$ Fresh Food 1500€$ Housing Some corpos get free housing as an employment benefit. For the rest of us, there’s rent to pay. Housing Type Monthly Rent Purchase Price Cube hotel 500€$ N/A Cargo container 1000€$ 15000€$ Studio apartment 1500€$ 25000€$ Two bedroom apartment 2500€$ 23000€$ Upscale apartment 7500€$ 85000€$ Luxury penthouse 15000€$ 150000€$ Suburban house N/A 200000€$ McMansion N/A 500000€$ Income One-off fixer jobs These are the main way edgerunners make money. There is always some chance of danger, so the pay is better. Fixer jobs pay per person, per job. (So a safe job that takes four people to complete would pay 2,000 in total, with each team member earing 500.) Job Pay (per person) Safe(ish) job 500€$ Typical job 1000€$ Dangerous job 2000€$ Odd jobs / hustling If your character is a freelancer or doesn’t have consistent employment, they can look for odd jobs to stay busy and earn some eddies in between fixer jobs. For some professions (lawman, exec) this seems to represent salary or hourly pay with a chance of earing overtime, bonuses or bribes. For the rest, it’s relatively safe gig work. Most people of middling skill level (including our characters as of 2077) can make 100 - 300 from a week of hustling. Rockerboys, medias and fixers can earn 500 in a good week. Full rules and die roll tables can be added here if there’s interest. Consistent employment There are no explicit rules in Cyberpunk RED for calculating a steady paycheck, but some of us do have consistent employment. (If you have a full time job, you do not have time to hustle for additional income.) It seems reasonable to assume that the amount of your paycheck is the typical cost of your coworkers’ rent + lifestyle. For example, for Sammy’s Thrifty Care residency, I calculated 1,500€$ for a studio apartment + 600€$ for good prepack = 2,100€$. I rounded down to 2,000€$ because I was on the fence between the generic prepack and good prepack lifestyle - most residents eat crappy food, but pay a premium for extras like laundry and cleaning services because they have no free time.

Cyberware Cyberaudio Suite (Cochlear Implant): Allows for audio input directly to the brain - sort of a permanent earbud. This model has the form factor of a cochlear implant, which includes an external component that connects to the scalp via magnet and makes the installation surgery less invasive. (Humanity -7) Phone Splice connection to an external agent with a range of 3 meters Sound Editing dampens background noise for clearer hearing, and can be used to filter for specific kinds of noises, or dampen all sound for improved sleep Empty slot Contraceptive Implant prevents pregnancy and periods (Humanity 0) Delayed medication release implant: Located on the underside of the left upper arm. It has ports for refilling the medications and a manual switch for turning it off in case of malfunction, hidden behind an access panel. The medication chambers should be cleaned out and refilled every three months. (Humanity 0) Synthetic testosterone DHT blocker (prevents balding and beard growth) Empty slot Other body modifications Sammy has had a double mastectomy. He has cosmetic EMP threading under his pecs where double incision top surgery scars would be, though his actual incisions were smaller and didn’t leave visible scars. He doesn’t have or need a Mr. Studd, and beyond that he won’t tell you what equipment he does or doesn’t have unless you buy him a drink first.

Family Gabe Voss "Well isn’t that just swell?!" Gabe Voss likes golf, lager, and whatever it is that you like. Sammy still doesn’t know who his father really is underneath his bubbly persona. Thinking about it unsettles him, so mostly he doesn’t. Gabe manages the family business, which seems to consist of looking at spreadsheets and fielding a few phone calls from property managers each week. Occasionally there’s enough money to invest in a new building, and Gabe shows his sons funny pictures of the sad state it’s in. Sammy always assumed the property managers fixed it up before any renters moved in. Beverly Voss "If it gets too hard or you don’t feel safe out there, you can always come home, and I’ll still be just as proud of you." Bev is involved in a lot of volunteer clubs and nonprofit organizations, mostly related to parks, community arts, and the town science fair. She doesn’t have to work, but that’s no reason to be idle. Bev tries not to be a helicopter parent, but with both of her boys all the way in big bad California and miles of nomad-infested desert between her and them, it’s an uphill battle. Her oldest was so close to doing something normal and safe with his life, too. She’s counting the days til the Chicago to Califonia section of the maglev is complete. Richard "Rik" Voss "I know you said it’s not your thing, but you’ve got to check out this vid, bro. It’s doing numbers!" While Sammy was in med school, his younger brother Rik moved to the Los Angeles area in search of adventure. Rik’s trying to make a name for himself in the extreme sports braindance scene. Not to be confused with XBDs, extreme sports braindances let the viewer experience the thrill of incredible dirtbike, sky diving, skateboarding and other stunts from the safety of their sofa. (That said, Rik has heard of aspiring athletes selling their worst outtakes to XBD studios to cover their medical bills.) Friends back home Lily "Let’s play wolves! Awoooooooo!" Lily’s family lived two houses down from the Vosses. Sammy’s parents never let him sleep over for some reason, even though both children were assumed to be girls at the time. One year she got a pony for her birthday, which was awesome fun until the neighorhood association put their foot down about it being stabled in the pool house. At least they moved it to a real stable with other horses so it wouldn’t be lonely. Lily’s family moved away when Sammy was 12, and being just a kid, Lily didn’t stay in touch. Skip "Just you wait til you see what’s in your… well, you’ll find out soon enough." Skip likes pranks. Skip doesn’t like having competition for the title of class clown. This led to a prank war in Villanova’s private high school that wasn’t entirely all in good fun, but Sammy had a blast aside from the couple times he or Skip went too far. They got it out of their systems by the end of sophomore year with only moderate damage to their GPAs (teachers don’t accept homework that’s covered in fake blood), and Sammy is pretty sure they’re friends now. Probably. Dandan "Sammy, you can’t just ask someone why they like living in a cube hotel. No one likes cube hotels. She thought you were mocking her." Dandan (they/them) was Sammy’s roommate and close friend for most of undergrad. They sat near each other in calculus, Sammy asked Dandan about their Prunk Dolka band shirt, and the two hit it off. Dandan’s endless patient explanations of how the other half lives are largely responsible for Sammy’s ability to make friends outside the private school cliques. Without Dandan, Sammy would still be living with his foot in his mouth. After graduation, Dandan went to work for their corporate sponsor, a well funded R&D firm with a forgettably generic name. Night City contacts Sammy lives with Steve Jenkins and Kat Franklin. Steve is a good but sometimes annoying friend, and Kat is… maybe not just a friend? He is also friends with Rami, who he met while giving Steve a ride home to "rescue" him from an alleged alien abduction. Sammy has worked with everyone in the general surgery department at Thrifty Care at one point or another, and also knows many of the nurses and ER physicians. Dr. Slaughter his his attending physician and boss.

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"I mean, even though Biotechnica definitely planted it so they could sell the wood, these GMO reforestation projects do keep us from getting cooked and the topsoil all blowing away after the pine blight. So it's one of the more prosocial corporate projects out there. And what they mentioned about the burl thieves - they're talking about a sort of growth or tumor in the wood, that's worth a lot of money because it makes the wood grain look cool. But cutting it off would probably kill the tree, since if it's big enough to be worth stealing it's probably on the trunk or a main branch." I realized I'd been talking for kind of a long time, even though Kat was polite enough not to look bored. "Sorry, my uncle was in the business and told me some stuff. But I guess waiting for a pro-social job isn't really the issue." "It's just too dangerous," Kat said, taking a seat on one of the now-bloodless bar stools that remained bolted to the floor even after her makeover of the former Surfer Shack. "You, me, Steve and Rami all showing up together for a corporate gig - all it'd take is one call asking if I worked for them and with who, and we're all toast." "What if we didn't arrive together?" I suggested, taking the bar stool next to her. We both faced out into the dining area with our backs to the former bar, which was now a wall. "You and Rami accept the ride Biotechnica offered, and Steve and I will 'go for a camping trip' and hike the rest of the way in. Or Steve could go with Rami and you ride with me, whichever option seems safer." Kat swiveled her seat by swaying from side to side slightly, since she was sitting cross legged not touching the floor. "That... could work." "It's probably a good time to make myself scarce anyway. There's someone coming up from corporate this weekend, and if I'm out of town with no reception, they can't make me come in and help look for paperwork. And... hmm. Are they going to want your ID and real name?" "What is my real name, do you know?" "It is Kat, isn't it?" I asked. She nodded. "Anyway, that's sort of what I was thinking. I have a passport you could borrow that's only slightly expired, if you can pretend to be my sister." "I think for the cause, I could do that."

June 4, 2077 Westbrook, Japantown Night City, California Morning ___________________________ Traffic whipped past us as Sammy floored the VersaWagon’s gas pedal, its lethargic throttle redlining as we completed the merge onto the Santo Domingo onramp. His hands clenched the steering wheel as if his life depended on it. I couldn’t blame him for his haste. Dawn’s first light had long since faded into the rearview, and I knew he wanted to get home and put this entire experience behind him. Checking the rearview mirror for the hundredth time since we left the Badlands, he eventually spoke. "So…I really need to keep work from hearing about my part in this. After seeing the state of that Vanguard clinic, I think I understand, but if I get fired from Thrifty Care I'll never get another chance at residency or any kind of medical license. I've never done anything like…this before, but Hutch thought you might have some advice for me on keeping it quiet?" My agent chirped with an incoming message as I mulled over the question in my mind. I squinted down at the device, the aftereffects of being slapped around by the Militech soldier not doing my vision any favors. The text was from Steve. KAT I BOUGHT A BURGER AT BOOZE EMPORIUM AND THERE IS NO BURGER IN THE BURGER. THIS IS CORPORATE TREASON. DO YOU WANT TO BE MY CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT????? I DON’T WANNA LIVE IN THIS DYSTOPIA ANYMORE. I sighed, typing out a brief WHAT THE HELL DOES ANY OF THAT MEAN? before swiping the message away and focusing on Sammy’s question. "I mean, from what I can recall, your involvement in everything was pretty superficial and almost totally because of shit I did. I sent the shipment to your place without verifying it was still vacant. Then, I caved to Igor’s pressure and broke in trying to find it. And after that, I kinda more or less social engineered you so I could get access to Thrifty Care. You didn’t have much of a choice, really. As long as your story stays consistent, you should be fine." I glanced at him. "Right?" Sammy exhaled but didn’t quite seem convinced. "It’s one thing when regular people get socially engineered. When it happens to a doctor, especially one still deeply in residency like me, it all kinda reflects poorly on my judgment. It’ll be my word against theirs. If they want to make an example of me, they could, and where would that leave me?" I shrugged, leaning back in my seat as the ground streets of Night City rushed by below us. "So don’t tell them. Deny everything. Not that I think you’ve been implicated in anything so far." "You think? Or you hope? There’s a big difference between those two words Kat," his voice raised an octave, and I glanced at him through my shades. "As of right now, what I know for sure is that Steve and I were the ones that got made at Thrifty Care. When Militech sent their dogs after us, they didn’t seem to be looking for anyone other than Steve, Rami, and me. But if it makes you feel any better, I can try to bang out a slipup list and then do a bag job for extra deniability." Sammy rubbed his face with a free hand. "C’mon, Kat, I don’t want you getting yourself into any more trouble because of me." "If I can, I will. I know a shell trader who can set me up with boosters and whatnot that’ll make it less risky. Besides, it’s the least I can do after I tased your roommate," I reassured him. Sammy shrugged. "Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I just…" "You just what?" I pressed when he trailed off, taking us past a long line of stop-and-go traffic on the Monroe exit. Ahead of us was the Mark X 24 apartment building, its grungy exterior a welcome sight for sore eyes, sore muscles, and sore cyberware. "If I’m gonna survive in this world, I can’t afford to be so…" Sammy hesitated, "so…" "Naive?" I offered. "Well, yeah. I was gonna say ‘vulnerable,’ but I guess they mean the same thing. I’m so close to being a licensed doc, Kat. Just another few years of residency and I’ll be golden. I can’t afford…" "I get it. I get it." I cut him off before he could finish the thought, my heart heavy with guilt. I could see the anxiety and fear in his eyes, and it was my fault he was even having to think about these things. Should've left him out of this. "There’s no shame in wanting to protect your future." The VersiWagon shuddered to a stop outside my building. I let the silence hang between us for a moment before patting his shoulder. "Hey, we’re here. You’re smart, Sammy Voss. You’re gonna be fine. And if you ever need any help, you give me a call. Alright, partner?" Sammy gave me a weak smile, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of hope. "Thanks for the lift," I added, unlatching the passenger side door and glancing up at the tower before me, framed against an endless cyan sky. "And don’t worry, Piñata. I’ll find a way to make this right. I promise." With that, I stepped out of the car and into the bustling underbelly of the freeway overpass, heading for my apartment. As I approached the lobby, Carlitos, the always-present street food vendor who my neighbor swore had a thing for making "barbecue" out of cardboard and meat sauce, waved at me. "Heya, Kat. Missed some action earlier," he said, jerking his chin at the apartment building. "Oh, yeah?" I feigned nonchalance, though my heart beat faster. "What kind of ‘action’?" "Don’t know exactly. First, an entire Trauma Team squad landing on the roof. Some bigshot in combat gear, with a crew. Then, about 15 minutes later, a huge explosion up on the fifth floor. Blew out the window of one of the apartments. Sounded like a mini-grin or an H.E. went off. I was sure the whole team got trashed. But, nope, about ten minutes later, another Trauma Team showed up to cart out the first team. Wildest shit I ever seen." His words hit me like a freight train. The fifth floor…that was my floor. My stomach dropped as I looked slowly up at my living room windows, or where they should have been, anyway. The first two - the ones closest to my computer rig - were completely destroyed. "Shit," I whispered under my breath. "Thanks for the heads-up, Carlitos." If there’d been an explosion, that meant someone had been in there and tried to access my proverbial Castle Turing, accidentally tripping the frag grenade inside the computer tower. That, or they’d found it and decided to play with the pretty shiny button. Either way, I had to get up there and find out what they’d taken, what they knew. Inside the building, the elevator was out, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. I took the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding in my chest as I reached for my taser, hoping that it wouldn’t shit the bed this time. As soon as I hit the fifth-floor landing, I could smell the smoke. My apartment door stood partially ajar, hanging on one twisted hinge, and the smell of ozone and burnt plastic hit me like a ton of bricks. I pushed the door open with my foot, swept the room with my eyes, and saw the utter devastation. My living room had taken the brunt of the blast, although the destruction I was taking in had clearly not come just from a low-yield bomb going off. Drawers and cabinets were open, their contents strewn about, and my collection of framed anime prints and concert posters lay in tatters on the floor. "Fuck me running sideways," I muttered, my eyes jumping from one piece of shattered furniture to another. Maneuvering over broken glass and smashed mementos, I reached my computer desk - or rather, the place where my computer desk used to exist as a cohesive whole. The tower lay on its side, the metal case wrought apart and blasted outward. The monitor was clear on the other side of the room, and the desk itself looked as though it’d been involved in a wrestling match with a tank and come out on the losing end. The same went for my bedroom, which I swept through quickly. My dresser was upside down, my wardrobe had been emptied of its contents, and even my mattress had been flipped over and its stuffing pulled out. Whoever had been here had also helped themselves to the contents of my tiny workshop in the closet, leaving behind only twisted and shattered bits of my tools and unfinished projects. My heart sank as I took in the empty space where my soldering iron and multimeter had once resided. Setting my jaw, I navigated back through the debris and crouched down, gingerly righting my computer chair. I sat down and looked around, my mind racing at a million miles an hour. Trauma Team had been thorough. Every data shard, every storage device, hell, even my holovision set had been taken or trashed. That meant that they knew everything. Well, not everything, but an uncomfortable amount of shit that could land my ass in a whole world of trouble if it fell into the wrong hands. It took me a moment to notice the small, metallic glint on the floor, half hidden by a fallen poster. I reached for it with shaking fingers, trying to figure out what to do next. It was an electronic dog tag, probably blown off one of the gonks who was standing in the blast radius. The back had a small, relief etching of a skull, the so called "Reaper Tag" that mooks like them collected to show off their kills. Below it were engraved the words "Property of Edwin Talbot, Security Chief, TT." Great, just fucking great, I thought as I pocketed the tag. The bastard had signed his work. Any doubt I may have had about who was after me had evaporated. Now, it was just a matter of what I was going to do about it. I couldn't stay here, that much was clear. They'd be back, and next time, they’d be even less subtle. I needed to find a secure place to hole up, regroup, and figure out my next move. It wasn’t just my ass on the line - everyone that had come in contact with me: Theora, Sammy, Steve, Rami, Jing Li, hell, even Delamain, Igor and Hutch - were all in the line of fire, too. I sprinted back to the bedroom where, against all odds, my Roach Race arcade machine was still in one piece. Pulling open its service door, I reached into the game’s guts and withdrew an emergency go bag, the large duffle jammed with false IDs, spare cyberware, a replacement netrunner suit, clothes, and even a katana. I also grabbed the game’s memory module, all that remained of my life before this clusterfuck, and tucked it in my bag. One last stop, then I’d vanish. I needed to get to the Surgery Shack and give Steve, Sammy, and Jing Li their due. I’d been paid 6,000 eddies for the job, and while they weren’t expecting any money, they deserved it for the risk they’d been in. After that? I didn’t know. The underworld grapevine would point me in the right direction, I assumed. For now, I needed to be invisible. It’s what ghosts do, after all.

June 4, 2077 Westbrook, Japantown Night City, California Morning ___________________________ The Zetatech Atlus, emblazoned in Trauma Team livery, thumped and lurched as it flew southeast, crossing over Allan Street before skimming across the river into Japantown West. The aircraft’s external cameras piped a virtual 360-degree feed into my optics as we descended, affording me a momentary view of the sprawling Arasaka K2 complex across the bay in Downtown North before it banked out of view and the SoftSys tower slid into view. Standing in its shadow, to the left of the high-rise, was a smaller, ratty-looking apartment tenement, wedged in a chokehold between the corporate structure and the knife edge of the Monroe freeway. The dingy, twenty-story building, despite its highbrow, nonsensical name of "Mark X 24," was entirely unremarkable save for an enormous billboard reading "Cyberbabes" that greeted us with the bare ass of a four-story tall illustrated naked woman as we approached. But I was indifferent to any of that. While my original plan for the five combat technicians that now sat beside me along either side of the cabin had been to drop them into the Vanguard camp, recover our property, and detain anyone we suspected to be involved in its theft, Director Redwood had been one step ahead of me. He had come down on me like a ton of bricks, ranting about how we needed to focus on the bigger picture, on the optics of doing something like that, and instead find the person who had thwarted us at every turn. After flying several drone passes over the Vanguard camp without a positive sighting of the netrunner or her associates, Redwood had finally set his sights on this place. According to him, the Medical Center's intelligence team had not been able to fully reverse the damage caused by Kathryn on our servers. However, they had managed to utilize their connections with the NCPD to backtrack through the city's CCTV network and uncover a series of snapshots capturing a Delamain taxi dropping off a passenger at Sammy's Surgery Shack. The woman in the images bore a striking resemblance to our target. Reverse-tracing the Delamain car’s journey, the analysts had managed to narrow down the origin point of the taxi to this very building. So, here we were. "ETA." I commanded into my headset mic. "60 seconds, Mr. Talbot." the pilot replied, positioning the Atlus to land directly on the roof of the Mark X 24 building. "Roger that. Helmets on, everyone. We’re going in hot." The team responded with a series of affirmative grunts as they donned their enclosed Trauma Team combat helmets, checked their gear one final time, and chambered rounds of a variety of calibers into their firearms. Meanwhile, I, too, took stock of my own loadout: an RT-46 Burya tech revolver with a smartlink module in my right palm, complemented by an L-69 Zhuo shotgun slung over my left. On my head, I wore a sleek, multi-axis carbon-fiber helmet designed to protect against chemical attacks and impact. My upper body was covered by a Trauma Team plate carrier and tactical vest, while underneath I had on a Kevlar-lined ballistic shirt, Decadencia Verde armor-weave pants, and combat boots, all emblazoned with the Trauma Team logo and colors. Accompanying me was a standard Trauma Team squad: an aerodyne pilot and co-pilot, two Security Specialists, a lead EMT, and an assistant EMT. The pilots, of course, wouldn’t be joining us inside the building. Their job was to ensure we had a quick getaway should things go south. But the rest of the team would be right behind me, and so they were geared up in their Trauma Team uniforms, helmets, plate carriers, and were kitted with HJKE-11 Yukimura pistols and G-58 Dian submachine guns. Director Redwood had originally been hesitant to greenlight using a full Trauma Team squad to toss some netrunner’s den, especially a team in full uniforms and branding. But I quickly calmed his fears by reminding him that our squads were a very common sight in Night City and that it would be far less suspicious for the public to see one of them rushing into a building than it would be if we tried to do it anonymously. The Atlus' engines roared as the pilot brought the IPF forward, and we began our descent onto the rooftop of the Mark X 24 building. A few seconds later, the landing pads engaged with a heavy lurch and the AV’s left-side crew doors opened. Daylight flooded in as I glanced at the team. "Alright, listen up." I ordered. "Remember the choreography. We’re responding to a routine medical alert. There’s an access point just inside the roof elevator lobby. Once we reach it, I’ll slice in and determine which apartment is registered to our Ms. Franklin." After confirming the team understood their orders, I took point, and the rest of the squad followed suit, spreading out and playing their part, the EMTs team-carrying a stretcher while the security specialists made a show of scanning the area for threats. "Through here!" I yelled, leading the team to the elevator lobby. A few taps on the keypad and about half a minute later, and the elevator gate slid open, revealing a car that smelled of piss, even through my rebreather. A middle-aged man in some kind of uniform stepped out, but before he could say anything, one of the security specialists flashed their badge and muttered something about a suspected overdose. Thinking quickly, I looked back at the man with fake urgency in my voice. "We’re looking for Kathryn Franklin! Any idea which apartment that is?" "5A, 15 floors down." the man mumbled before speed-walking away with a look of terror, seeming more than happy to get away from the scene. "Perfect." I responded as we all piled into the elevator. As soon as the last squad member was onboard, I hit the button for the 5th floor. "Alright, people, we're going in hot as soon as these doors open. Remember, we’re after any and all digital evidence we can carry. Datashards, hard drives, cyberware, braindances, the works. Anything that can tell us who she’s working with and where they might be holing up. If we’re lucky, we might even find her there." I reminded the team. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing a short, dingy hallway with flickering lights and stained, peeling two-tone wall paint covered in graffiti. To my right was an Insta Food vending machine with garish Burrito XXL advertising on it. Beyond that were a stairwell access and the garbage-strewn entrances to apartments marked "5B" and "5C." "Cover that stairwell." I commanded Security Specialist "Hitman" Nunez. "If our target tries to make a break for it, I want her funneled back into our waiting arms." "Aye, sir." Hitman replied, moving to guard the stairs. Looking to my left, I spotted an unmarked, chipped, dingy door with fading paint that clearly used to be marked "5A." "The rest of you, with me." I added, drawing my pistol before approaching the door. Activating my Kiroshi "Stalker" optics, I gazed through the apartment’s wall, the cyberware scanning for any signs of life within, up to a depth of 34 meters. The place was cold. "Open it." I ordered Security Specialist Hammers, the resident techie of the group. Hammers moved up to the door and went to work souping the lock with his lockpit kit, while the rest of the team split off into two-person fireteams with their weapons drawn and ready to fire. "Done." Hammers reported. The door swung open to reveal a surprisingly habitable living space. I couldn't help but be surprised. I expected a dingy, overcrowded hole in the wall, not this... moderately comfortable setup. The first thing that caught my eye was the sideboard directly in front of us. It was decked out with candles, vases, and even a bonsai tree. There was a gaudy golden dragon sculpture too, like she had some kind of taste for old-world flair. Over top of the sideboard, a shelving unit was crammed with more of her personal junk. . . books, little statues, and a flat-screen display. Windows on the left of the sideboard let in some filtered sunlight. A potted plant sat on the windowsill, a weird touch of nature that didn’t seem to fit with the cold, hard reality of life. A doorway stood to our right, and I guestured to Hammers to clear the room beyond while I concentrated on the main space. Keeping my weapon drawn, I moved past a curved, gray sectional sofa on the left. It was actually decent, covered in those tacky metallic gold pillows that scream "wannabe luxury." There was a circular ottoman in front of it, with some bottles and junk scattered around, just enough to show she was still human, I supposed. Over the ottoman, of course, the television had been left on, three or four channels playing at the same time, evidence of someone afflicted with some kind of attention deficit disorder. The lighting was a mix of cool blues and warm tones, trying way too hard to set a mood. I could see a kitchen, tucked in the back, was compact but modern and less grungy than I would have thought for someone who was probably more familiar with code than cooking. A metallic-bladed ceiling fan spun lazily above, a practical touch in a space that was trying way too hard to be something it’s not. Then, to my right, I spotted something way more relevant: next to the windows, a workspace with an expansive computer terminal, CPUs, switches, a gateway, datashards, and a desk cluttered with all kinds of tech crap. Shelves above held more books, gadgets, and a few decorative pieces, like she was trying to convince herself she had taste. "Clear!" I heard Hammer call. "It’s just a bedroom back here and a locked door, probably a closet. I’m gonna work on it." I turned around to face the other two Trauma Team squad members who had come in behind me. "Alright. You all know what to do. Let’s toss this place." I ordered. The medic with the goggles, Reader, and the woman with the combat shotgun, Tanker, both nodded in acknowledgment. Reader went to the computer terminal, while Tanker started searching the couch cushions and places where someone would keep contraband or valuables. I walked over to the window and glanced down at the alley below. No signs of movement, but that didn’t mean anything. The apartment was silent save for the muffled sounds of our footsteps and Reader tapping away at the computer. Meanwhile, I holstered my pistol and started emptying every shelf, drawer, and nook I could find, my momentary admiration for the place quickly replaced by controlled rage as I focused back on the purpose of our visit. I took it out on every irrelevant object that met my hands, casually tossing them to the floor with a satisfying crash. I came across multiple datashards, all of which I collected up and secured in a quarantined drive to be analyzed later. I wasn’t a fool. I knew better than to stick some random shard in my cyberdeck. I overturned the sideboard in search of surreptitiously hidden away gadgets, its expansive collection of tchotchkes sliding off in a gigantic avalanche of junk and smashing to the floor with an extremely gratifying crash. Nothing more there than a few dead cockroaches and a pair of old sneakers. I didn’t even bother trying to swear, instead venting it on the cheap dragon statue with a few well-placed kicks, satisfied only when it bounced off a wall and snapped in half. "Hammers!" I shouted. "What’re you finding in the bedroom?" From the other side of the apartment, Hammers responded, "Just clothes, junk, and... " A long pause hung in the air. "...guns. Lots of guns. Looks like our girl doesn’t even bother to make her bed." "Confiscate them all." I turned my attention back to the shambles of the living room, my hands itching to tear the place apart at the seams. "Sir, I got something here!" Reader called, snapping me out of my frenzy. I jogged over to the cluttered workstation, narrowly avoiding a half-chewed pizza crust. "Well?" "I finally busted her login creds and I’m into the OS. There were two profiles on the machine. Kat and Kathryn," Reader explained as he typed. "How creative." I grumbled. "That’s hardly earth-shattering news, you know." "The file size of the ‘Kathryn’ profile was three times the size of ‘Kat,’ so I put my focus there." Reader continued. "Soon as I logged into that one, I saw it was full of hacking apps, logs, and. . ." his voice trailed off. "A toolkit called ‘Arasaka Breach & ICE.’" Reader said. "We suspected that Kathryn Franklin used to work for them. This is probably how she busted our net." A cold chill ran down my spine. "Let’s see it." I snapped. Reader called up the toolkit. An Arasaka splash screen appeared on the display. Suddenly, I heard a sharp snap, followed by a whine. A distinctive whine. The kind that you learn how to ident after your first close call with a shrapnel grenade. My eyes flew around the room, desperate to find the source of the noise. "What the fuck is that?" I shouted. "Oh shit. I tripped a fuckin’ boobytrap!" Reader yelled, pointing at the shoebox-sized CPU enclosure attached to the desktop terminal. "You WHAT?" I replied. There was a loud bang, a fraction of a flash, and then darkness.

June 4, 2077 Rayfield Excalibur corporate AV Somewhere over California Morning ___________________________ Rayfield is renown the world over for its exclusive luxury limousines: the Caliburn and the Aerondight. But even expensive cars suffer from the same age-old problem as any other on the road: they can get caught in traffic. Sure, you could ask your security detail to empty a clip at the drivers ahead, subtly urging them to kindly get out of your way; however, most Rayfield owners prefer to avoid behavior as unrefined and inelegant as this. To avoid the burden of traffic altogether for its loyal consumers, Rayfield engineered the Excalibur, a luxury AV that allows you to arrive everywhere punctually, safely, and, most importantly, in maximum comfort and style. That is, assuming your bank account is as close to bottomless as possible. The spiel from the aerodyne’s manufacturer was spot on. As it thundered into Night City’s airspace, I took a sip of my complimentary champagne, turning up my nose at the flavor and wiping the excess from my mouth with a monogrammed napkin. "With pockets as deep as Trauma Team’s, you would think they could be bothered to invest in something that doesn’t taste like toilet kombucha." I grumbled to my security detail, an augmented woman named Eliza who sat across from me, her electric red cybernetic eyes meeting mine to meet mine before returning to the view below us. "I mean, it’s the little things that matter, right, Eliza?" "Aye, boss." she chuckled. I stared out the one-way window, watching as the barren landscape rolled past, ghost towns and crumbling highways passing us by in a blur of desolation and decay. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, painting the sky a dusky shade of pink. By comparison, the Excalibur's wood paneling was smooth as silk under my fingertips, reassuring in its opulence. The jumpseats behind us were empty, leaving just the two of us in the vehicle's decadent confines. "It’s just, this is Night City." I sighed, taking another sip of the foul drink. "I was expecting a vintage more…grandiose." Just then, my comm unit rang. I looked down to see Larry Nivens’ name on its screen. I sighed, resting my head on the headrest before reluctantly answering the call. "Good morning, Mr. Talbot." came his nasally drawl. "I have some bad news." "What is it, Nivens?" I snapped, looking out the window as the Badlands faded into the distance, replaced instead by Night City’s signature blend of neon and steel. "The last thing I need is more bad news." "A…situation has developed, you could say, sir." Nivens explained, his voice shaking with panic. "Has Militech been in touch with you?" "They have not. Spit it out, Larry." I ordered, feeling a sinking sensation in my gut. "Well…" he began, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "It seems their intercept teams…" "Spit. It. Out." I ordered, my patience wearing thin. "They’ve been wiped out, sir." Nivens finally blurted out. My stomach lurched as the implications of his words sunk in. "Wiped out? You’re telling me that eight armed men, two armored SUVs, and a drone were taken out by a couple of gonks in a taxi?" I fired back, not wanting to hear the words but needing to all the same. "All but three. One mildly injured, another shot in the genitals, and the last bludgeoned to within an inch of his life." he replied, almost meekly. "And it gets worse. After the Combat Cab our kleptoids were traveling in crashed, they appropriated the remaining Militech SUV." I slammed my fist into the armrest, cracking it with the force of the blow. "Damn it, Nivens! This is unacceptable! In all my years with Trauma Team, I’ve never seen such incompetence!" "Wait, sir! There’s also some good news." Larry squealed. "Before they left Thrifty Care with the crates, I managed to get a geo-locator hidden inside one of them. We’ve traced the diverted supplies to a Vanguard camp in the Badlands. We’ve also been able to identify the deckhead and her accomplices." A gentle chime sounded in the AV’s cabin as it entered a banked turn. The concrete jungle of the Watson district rolled into view, a mishmash of high-rises, factories, and slums. At the heart of it all, in a prominent location between Megabuilding 11 and the Amber Fox, was Medical Center, Trauma Team’s gleaming campus of corporate and medical excellence. I straightened my suit jacket and checked my reflection in the AV’s tinted window, ensuring every hair was in place. "Who are they?" I demanded. "Kathryn Marie Franklin, a low-level edgerunner based in Japantown. Steve Jenkins, a civil litigator who has sued us on at least one occasion, and their driver, Rami Soraya, a man who is currently in the employ of Combat Cab." he explained. "I want their heads on a platter, Nivens! I want this whole shit-storm cleaned up before it gets any more out of hand. Understood?" "Yes, Mr. Talbot, sir." he replied. "We’ll not let you down again." "Good. I’ll be on the ground in five minutes. Find Director Redwood and tell him to meet me in my office in ten. This ends now."

June 3, 2077 Somewhere outside city limits Night City, California Night ___________________________ "How the hell did this even happen?" I blurted as I knelt beside Steve and the extremely irritated Militech soldier. "Just another night in paradise, Kat," Steve guffawed, slapping his free hand on the soldier's shoulder. The Militech soldier glared at him, muscles tense beneath the heavy armor. "But for real, doodio here had a mine in his Things that must have been in standby mode. When we fell down together, it armed." "And what do I call you? ‘Hostile combatant number two?" I continued, staring at the enemy soldier. "Or do you have a name?" "Call me dead man walking. Or just Dead Man," he sneered, his gaze never wavering from the mine beneath them. "That actually seems apt, DM," I quipped, my quota of fucks given for the evening exhausted. "Only someone with a death wish would run around carrying a mine in standby mode. Hope it was worth it." "Fuck you," DM grunted. "Just deactivate this thing and get it over with." Rolling my eyes, I examined the mine, trying not to think about the fact that one wrong move would end our night in a spectacularly gory fashion. Invoking my scanner, despite my drained sympathetic nervous system’s protestations, I scrutinized the pile of humanity and explosives for a control device or deactivation mechanism. My heart raced as I recognized the model number: the Vindicator-class anti-personnel mine, favored by Militech for its sheer, vicious brutality. "Well, Kat?" Steve asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. "Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec," I retorted, focusing on the mine's interface. "It's a stand-alone model. Won’t call home, and simple enough to remotely override, but really, really in love with the whole 'blow up on deactivation' thing. And super unhappy about all these warm bodies on top of it. Doesn't need any fancy shit, thankfully. Just a couple of process overrides and or a code." Steve scrunched up his face. "I’m a TV attorney. Explain it to me like I’m not." I ran a hand through my hair, exasperated. "Just let me focus, alright? That goes for you, too, DM." I took a deep breath, centering myself. Slowly and carefully, I initiated a scan for the mine's control unit. After an excruciatingly long, tense half-minute, the results came in. "Alright, I got something. I think I can do this wirelessly." Steve gulped audibly. "You look kinda…worn out. Think running on steam is gonna…y'know, factor in here?" "No time to over-think this. We need to get this thing disarmed before more of these goons join the party," I replied, gesturing at DM while diving into the mine's systems. My mind filled with schematics and data as my focus latched onto the protocol for the pressure sensor. As I gingerly killed one process after another, I could see the mine's systems struggling against me, multiple fault messages popping up and vanishing just as fast. In the physical world, the mine's LEDs blinked erratically, switching between red and yellow. "That’s not…" Rami's voice wavered ever so slightly. "I know, I know," I muttered, the tension rising in my shoulders as I rerouted another subroutine. In that moment, the pressure sensor’s main process crashed, freezing the detonation logic. The mine's LED turned a dull, lifeless black as its systems powered down. "Alright, boys, you can get up now." The moment the words left my mouth, Rami was already hauling the Militech soldier to his feet, and Steve scrambled up, brushing raindrops from his suit in a futile attempt to stay dry. "Whew, that was close. Thanks!" Steve exclaimed. "Don’t mention it," I replied, looking toward Rami. "We’d better get out of here. What should we do with him?" I jerked my head at DM. Rami considered the question, his gaze flicking from the restrained Militech soldier to the wreckage of the combat cab. After a moment, he made his decision. "I’ll compel him to disable the GPS in the SUV while you and Steve retrieve your shipment. Then, we’ll secure him with the guy that got shot in the crotch and leave them for their boss to find." "Fair enough," I agreed. "We’ll meet you back at the truck." Several minutes later, the three of us were packed into the SUV and hurtling down the darkened highway, rain sheeting off the windshield in a rhythmic torrent. Rami was at the wheel, Steve and I had taken up position in the middle row, and our battered, yet mercifully intact crates of stolen Trauma Team supplies filled up most of the remaining space. Rami’s personal agent glowed from the dashboard, its Self-Adaptive Artificial Intelligence (SAAI) calling out driving directions to our mysterious drop point. "So, do we have a plan for when we get there?" Steve asked as he began to rummage through the vehicle’s various storage compartments. "No," I admitted, watching the desert landscape fly by outside my window. "Igor just said that someone will meet us there to collect the goods. We drop off the crates, get paid, and get out." "And then what will you do?" Rami asked as he evaded another pothole. "Whoever you have upset was willing and able to escalate directly to Militech. And Militech is not going to simply forget about their Spec Ops team getting shot up or their SUV being stolen." I shrugged, trying to seem less concerned than I felt. "For now, let's just focus on not getting caught or killed." The SUV ride continued in tense silence, punctuated only by the patter of rain on the windows and the hum of the engine. Eventually, as the drizzle subsided, we made a left turn onto an unpaved, muddy access road that snaked off into the hills of the Carrizo Plain. Flanked on both sides by cacti and scrubland, the landscape looked as nondescript as the coordinates were. Eventually, we crested a sharp rise and found ourselves descending into a natural basin, where faint pinpricks of light glistened from a hodgepodge assortment of about two dozen ramshackle tents, buildings, and trailers, many of which were emblazoned by large, hand-painted red crosses. I realized that this wasn't just some random meetup spot. It looked like an organized medical operation. "This must be the place," Rami observed, navigating the SUV toward a line of parked vehicles. "Circled wagons, so to speak, in the middle of nowhere." "Well, shit," I muttered quietly. "Igor didn't tell me this was a damn Vanguard site." The Vanguard were a pseudo-militaristic medical advocacy group that provided access to clinics for those left behind by the system, often clashing with the megacorporations and their private security forces. They had earned themselves a not-so-quiet reputation for appropriating and redistributing medical goods where they were needed most, along with a hefty side helping of anarchy and chaos. And now we were delivering them a truckload of stolen Trauma Team supplies. I glanced at Steve, who shrugged, just as surprised as me. Rami parked us between a beat-up ambulance and a camouflaged pickup truck, then turned off the engine. The SUV's single headlight died, plunging the area into darkness save for the dim spill from the illuminated structures and the flickering light of campfires. Almost immediately, two heavily-armed women in patchwork battle armor moved from the shadows to flank our vehicle on either side. "Hands up, and out slow," one of them called out. "We got you covered." Rami gave a resigned sigh and rolled down his window, his meaty hand leaving the steering wheel and rising into the cool night air. Steve followed suit, and reluctantly, I did the same. "Easy, easy," I explained, my hands in the air. "We're here for a drop-off." The other woman's tone was icy as she replied. "I didn't realize Militech was in the business of giving out freebies. But we definitely wouldn't refuse any help from them, considering the amount of casualties they've sent our way." "We’re not from MIlitech," I explained. "We just…appropriated…one of their trucks. Igor sent us. We have your delivery." An intense stare-down ensued before the first woman waved us forward with her pistol. "Out of the car, nice and slow." We followed orders and stepped out of the vehicle. The crisp night air enveloped me, carrying the strong scent of blood mixed with overheating electronics. The second guard clicked on her flashlight and shined it over my face and torso, taking in my tattered netrunner suit and the injuries I’d sustained during my brawl with the guard. "You look like you could use some patching up yourself," she said, her voice still hard but with a hint of concern as she motioned to my split lip and bruised temple. "I’m fine. Just glad we made it here in one piece," I deadpanned, gesturing to Steve. "But maybe you can check him out after we unload the truck. Took a pretty nasty blow to his head earlier. Knocked him out cold." "Let’s see the shipment first," the first woman ordered, her voice leaving no room for discussion. Rami pressed a button on his key fob, and the back of the SUV opened with a low whirring sound, revealing ten dinged and scuffed crates emblazoned with the Trauma Team insignia. The two guards’ eyes widened with surprise before their faces broke into relieved smiles. "Call Hutch. Tell him the medical supplies from Igor are here, and they’re intact. Looks like a full shipment, too. And tell him to send a couple of gurneys for our new friends here," the first woman said, her voice no longer as cold. The second woman nodded and stepped away to speak into her comm unit. "Thank the digital gods," I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. The first woman extended her hand to me. "Lana Winters. Medical coordinator here at Vanguard Field Hospital 47-A." "Kat," I responded, shaking her hand. "And these are my…associates. Rami and Steve." "Oh no," Rami objected. "I’m just their driver. That’s what this was all about? Medical supplies?" "Yes," Lana explained, shaking Rami’s hand. "We’ve been waiting on a consignment like this for weeks. Lives are going to be saved tonight, thanks to you three." "If any malpractice happens on account of those supplies, you can call me!" Steve exclaimed, proffering a soggy business card to Lana. She took it gingerly between two fingers, its electronic lights and jingle blipping and sputtering before burning out entirely. "We appreciate it, Mister…" Lana glanced down at the card, "Jenkins? The Vanguard thanks you." "Just doing my job, ma’am!" Steve replied, abruptly snapping a jaunty salute before stumbling. "Alright, let’s get these supplies inside and get you both looked at," Lana continued, motioning to the medics coming with gurneys. "I’ll walk," I nodded, gesturing Rami and Steve to go ahead of me. "I need to call Igor and let him know that the job’s done. I should probably also try to get ahold of Sammy and Jing Li and let them know where we are. I don’t think any of us ought to try going back to the city in that thing." "Point taken," Lana agreed, looking at the battered Militech SUV. "I’ll have the boys in the motor pool come pick it up. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to run it through the chop shop and give it a new identity."

MEANWHILE……… BABABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!! Rami shot the grenade belt of the Militech pistol dude, I did a womanly scream on account of I was not expecting Explosions in this Gunfight. The soldier’s guts went everywhere, I got brains on my pimp suit, but I didnt have time to mess around with that on account of there were still 2 more soldiers blasting shotguns at us and my Slaught O Matic gun only had 14 more bullets left inside it if I had counted them right. "RAMI!!" I Hollered, "PUT BULLETS INSIDE THE GUY ON THE RIGHT!!" Then I did a hard Spin and shot my Slaught O Matic to the left, I was trying to Whip the bullet in a curve like they do in the movies at the other Militech dude. "What do you think I’ve been doing???" Rami Yelled, "THAT CONCUSSION YOU GOT WHEN I WRECKED MY TAXI MUST BE MESSING WITH YOUR BRAINS TOO!!" I ducked as a shotgun blast flew past my head and I saw the guy on the left THUD as Rami’s bullet hit him in the Genitals and he stopped doing gun Things for a while on account of Genitals are important for everything. "Where did you learn to shoot like that???" I asked Rami, then I blasted my Slaught O Matic 8 times at the other shotgun guy. "DODGEBALL CHAMPIONSHIP IN THE BADLANDS WHEN I WAS 6" Said Rami as he did a Combat roll back behind the rocks. "WHAT???" I said, but he didn’t answer because he was busy Chambering his gun, I looked over and saw the Militech guy who got shot in the Groin still rolling around on the ground and I felt a little bad on account of he probably wasnt going to get any sex in the future, but then I remembered he was from Militech so screw that guy. DINGALINGALINGALINGALINGALINGALINGA Went my Cell Phone All of the sudden which made the 1 Shotgun guy who was still standing up look around and KABOOM KABOOM KABOOM he shot at us 3 more times with his bigass gun. "Steve turn that off its making us a Target!!" Rami Hollered as he unloaded his gun at the guy, I looked down at my phone and the caller Idea said HOT EUSEBIO "One second Rami its important," I said as I answered it, "Hello this is Steven Tychomidos Jenkins speaking, who do you want to sue today??" Then I heard a bunch of Sex noises on the other end, it went "OOOOOH UHHHNNNNHH OOOOH BABY BABY OOOOOH UHHH OOOOH UH" for a Long time while Sex Music played, then eventually it went "Do you want Double Trouble Genitals or Tails Scales And More, how about Neural Libido Ticklers?? Then you should sex on down to the Hottest place in town, Peyronn’s Buttocks And Titties emporium. We carry everything your body and some you Didnt Know you had wanted!!" "I’M NOT FALLING FOR IT AGAIN YOU SON OF A BITCH!!" I yelled as I hung up the phone, Rami looked at me as he reloaded his gun, "So who was it Steven?" he asked, "Just a wrong number" I said, then I put my phone away, "Well this ISNT the time for personal calls anyway we got 2 more of these chumps to deal with, 1 has a bullet in his Penis but the other guy is still shooting at us" Rami said as he pointed his gun at the Militech guy who was standing up. "Guns arent working, I need to do a Martial Art to finish this" I said as I stood up, "Steve are you crazy!?" he yelled , "Yes but dont worry I got this!!" Then I RAN like a madman ducking and weaving to dodge the bullets aimed at me, when I got to the guy I did a Flying Bird Kick (Level 3) and my boot went into the Militech guys face area (and his shotgun too), then he went DOWN like a bedtime shot of Brown Listerine, unfortunately when he did I landed on him and I heard the BLEEP of a Land Mine turning on. "OH SHIT" I said "did you have a land mine in your belt stuff??" "YEAH!!!" Roared the Militech soldier, "Now we're both laying on top of it and it turned on and now if either one of us gets up it's gonna blow us into Dog Food, this sucks" Just then Rami ran up, "Good job Steve, I tied up the crotch bullet guy, why are you still laying on top of that other guy??" I explained the situation, "Aw man, this is why I can't have nice things" Rami groaned as he put his gun away, "Where is Kat, maybe she can do the Computery things to dislodge the Land Mine so we can Escape." "I'll never let you escape!!" Hollered the Milicech guy except for the fact he was face down so it sounded more like MFFF MMMMFFFF GMFFFF MGGGFFFscape so it was hard to take him Serious.

June 3, 2077 Somewhere outside city limits Night City, California Night ___________________________ "Watch your crossfire!" "I shouted to Steve, rising from behind the rocks and pointing my Liberty pistol at the scattered soldiers. Without Kat's improved optics, I would have to rely on my own eyes to see which of the three had a pistol and which two had shotguns. At range, those shotguns were a joke, up close they were death. Quick. Dirty. Steve was furiously blasting away with his Saturday night special like crazy, sending bullets bouncing off the rocks with a concert of metallic sounds and whistles in the night air. I wasn't sure how good his aim would be after getting his brains bashed in a car crash, but at least he kept the soldiers on their toes and caused some chaos. I just hoped he wouldn't run out of ammo before we dropped these guys. The sound of gunfire echoed across the desert, followed immediately by the crunch of rock as buckshot peppered the outcropping we were hiding behind. Damn. That was too close for comfort. I went down again and positioned myself at a better angle. I had to take out at least one of them so they couldn't flank us, but Steve's routine didn't make it any easier. The sharp sound of a shot whizzing past my ears drew my attention to the soldier to the right of the three. It was the one with the pistol, he was getting the hang of dialing in his shots from range. "I found you," I muttered. I didn't have much time. I took a deep breath, exhaled and fired. SNAP! SNAP! Two quick shots rang out from my Liberty. Hot lead pierced the night air, and time seemed to slow down. The first shot missed, but the second connected with a thud, and the soldier dropped like a sack of potatoes. One down, two to go!" I shouted, turning my aim on the remaining two. "I don’t know about that, Rami!" Steve replied. "That guy’s getting back up! Must be wearing a damn vest under his suit!" Damn. I quickly fired another shot from the pistol, this time aiming for the man's head. At this distance it would have been a miracle if I had hit him, but I had to try. Unfortunately it flew high and far as the bullets of the other two soldiers hit the rock around us. "Augh!" Steve yelped. "Son of a bitch! I think I got zinged!" A feeling of panic came over me as I looked at the remaining ammunition I had. I was halfway through my second and final magazine, and I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be enough for the remaining three. What the hell were we going to do now? At this moment I noticed that the pistol man, now moving closer, was wearing a bandolier of frag grenades. A plan began to form in my head, but I didn’t like it because it could cost me all my remaining bullets. I was going to hit his grenades. I took another deep breath, I steadied my shaking hands as best I could and aimed at the bandolier. It was a Hail Mary, but what choice did I have? I fired the Liberty in two rapid bursts. SNAP SNAP! SNAP SNAP! And before I could even comprehend what had happened, the soldier suddenly disappeared in a devastating explosion that thundered across the wasteland. The blast filled the air with the smell of burnt flesh and cordite as the remaining two soldiers dove for cover. I blinked, stunned at my luck. I had actually done it. I turned to Steve, who was still ducking behind the rock. "One down for real this time, two more to go. Divide and conquer!"

MEANWHILE…… "Brace!" Rami shouted as I got threw up against Kat. The armrest full of Barf surged up against me and Kat, getting us covered in Bean and Bacon, Cram, Liquor, and other Things. "GROSS!!!" I Screamed but then all of the sudden there was a Huge drop like you feel on a rollercoaster when it goes down a hill and then a HUGE crash. The airbags deploded out and I was like a Ziploc bag full of Meat and Potatoes bashing around everywhere as the car started flipping over and over and over and glass and parts were flying everywhere and the g-forces were pulling on my brain, I bashed my head into the Consol and the warm bleeding started to run down my chin and then…I…blacked…out… *** BEGIN HALLUCINATION *** The world came Whirling in and it was Nighttime, I was standing on the outside of an old style Cowboy mine like you see in the movies, one of those old timey ones with the big piece of wood that went up and down. It was Pitch black all around me except for this one single spotlight on the sign over the Mine area, it said "WELCOME TO THE REST IN PIECES MINE" and then another sign said "IT HAS BEEN __ DAYS WITHOUT A WORKPLACE INJURY HERE" and in the blank spot someone had drew a laughing skull and crossbones, I thought that was Funny for some reason, and then I noticed I was naked. Up ahead I saw a Shack, I wanted to get to it to find some clothes to cover my Dignity, but there was a bunch of aggressive dogs with glowing eyes all around it growling at me. "Hey there pupper," I started to say but then a bunch of them started barking and every time they barked Locusts and other THings flew out of their mouths. Then I saw 2 people on top of the shack flashing a light at me and I yelled "DON’T FLASH ME IM NAKED." But then they pointed over at where the miners were working and I saw the strangest thing, the miners were using their axes and other tools to take cars apart, every time they took a car apart they put the parts for the car up in the trees around them, soon the tree was just one big Car… bush… Tree car… THing. I called out to the flashing couple up on the roof "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" and they started waving their hands frantically and making a Backwards motion with their arms and pointed behind me, I turned around and saw even more miners/mechanics coming up the hill with car parts, they looked like Cult members except that they were from the cowboy age. Then the dog eyes lit up red, I screamed and my bowels released with Fear, I felt the Stools bouncing down my legs and I turned red with Dishonor and Embarrassment, I started to run towards the people on the roof. "SAVE ME SAVE ME" I screamed as the pack of Dogs/Locusts broke off their chains and ran at me as I ran at their Shack, all of the sudden one of the miners/mechanics put down a car bumper that said JUICY and pulled out an old timey dynamite stick and lit it with one of those old Flint things, then he yeeted it at the Dogs that barked Locusts. There was a HUGE explosion and the dogs got blew into meaty chunks that looked like dog food with Locust bits, the chunks went up in the air and then came splattering down, I started to gag and whimper as the people on the roof reached out and pulled me up on the roof, "You had us right scared there pardner" one of them said, then he hocked a huge tobacco Loogie at the car tree, then the other said "Where yer boots at?" THEN he said "whats all that brown stuff on yer legs?" I looked down and I was still Naked and my legs had brown skid marks on them from where I had had an Accident, I really quick reached down off the roof and grabbed a WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE poster off the outside of the Shack and felt a Embarrassment crash over me as I tried to hide it "Uhhh…I don’t wanna talk about it…Quickly get me inside of your Shack!" I said as I used the Wanted poster to cover my manhood. Then one of the Mechanics/Miners said "Well, Now were you are at" and motioned his hand to a trap door in the roof of the shack, "This here is how we get up and down without our faces gettin ate off by the demon dogs." THEN he opened it and I looked inside, it was dark but I thought I saw a dim light inside. "Get on down there, pardner, youre making it smell like Dook out here" the other Miner/Mechanic said so I climbed inside and went down the ladder, the old time guys closed the trapdoor and I heard them barricade it with some metal stuff, "Hey wait!!!" I Yelled "DONT LOCK ME IN THE DARK!!!!!! I DONT HAVE ANY TOILET PAPER!!!" but then all I heard was Workbench sounds as they started building a new roof on top of the roof I had went down through, I started banging on the walls and sobbing, I didnt want to die inside an old Shack in the Wild West… But then all of the sudden the shack’s lights came on and suddenly I wasnt in the Old West anymore, I was inside Power Fists Dojo back in Night City and Master Honda and Sensei Ronald were staring at me, it was just like the regular Power Fists Dojo except Master Honda and Sensei Ronald had glowing blue/white eyes and I could see blue zen flames coming off their shoulders, "STEVE JENKINS" Master Honda intoned, "YOU HAVE BEHAVED WITH DISHONOR AND THE MARS THUMPER HAS TAKEN NOTICE OF YOUR DISHONORABLE ACTIONS." I started to shake on account of the Mars Thumper was the ultimate punishment at the Dojo for the most dishnorable of actions, it was a 12 foot tall gold Statue in the middle of the Dojo with robot arms, if you committed a dishonorable act you had to put on a Sumo Diaper and go into the presence of the Mars Thumper and turn around, then the Mars Thumper would use its robot arms to give you a super ultimate wedgie "P-p-please senseis, I HAVE B-B-BEEN REALLY STRANGED OUT LATELY, I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT I DID!! I mean I pooped myself on accident but thats not a Mars Thumper punishment" "Well Steve Jenkins" Master Honda said, "You have indeed been stranged out as of late and the Mars Thumper does not punish those who have been stranged out, however, you must face your punishment none the less, the only way to undo your current State is through Mars Thumper Correction." I tried to say something back to Master Honda but before I could say it Master Honda ramped up his Zen and then did a Liukang Scream (Level 40) that made a HUGE blast of white light come out of his mouth, the next thing I Knew I was standing inside the Mars Thumper Dome with a Sumo diaper on, I gulped and then turned around to face my punishment from the Mars Thumper. I felt it's gold arms come down and grab the back of my sumo diaper and then without waiting for me to brace it YANKED and I SCREAMED BLOODY MURDER AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ***END HALLUCINATION*** "...AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" "SHUT UP Steve you're going to get us shot!!" It was Kat's voice, I woke up with rain coming down on my face and the Taxi driver, Rami I think his name was, he was dragging me behind a rock in the dark. I felt like I had been hit by a cargo train hellbent on running over a Farmer in a DX-series Tractor and I could taste a mix of blood and Neo-Coke in my mouth as I started coughing, I looked over and saw the combat taxi Rami had been driving a crumpled mess and on fire 20 feet away, Kat was kneeling in the down position and looking back over the rock at a bunch of flashlights that were coming towards us. "What happened???" I whispered with Confusion. "They happened" Intoned Kat "And now we're dead in their Sights."

June 3, 2077 Thrifty Care (Morgue) Kabuki, Watson Night City, California Evening ___________________________ The body elevator thudded to a halt, and its doors rumbled open, revealing the darkened morgue. I let out a sharp exhale as the claustrophobia released its hold on me, my eyes tracing across the rows of steel drawers built into the walls. The dim blue emergency lighting cast an eerie pallor across their angular surfaces while the smell of antiseptic and death hung heavily in the air. "Alright, here we are!" Steve announced, clambering out of the dumbwaiter and then turning to extend a hand to me. "Ladies first." I couldn't help but smirk as I took his hand and pulled myself to my feet, climbing out to join him. "Thanks," I quipped with a playful tone, quickly scanning the room. The sight of my breath escaping in visible puffs reminded me of the somber reason for this space. "No problemo!" Steve announced, strutting onward, his over-the-top dress shoes squeaking against the polished cement floor. He pointed toward a heavy door at the back of the room. "That's our ticket out." Quickly, I activated my scanner, sweeping the morgue with augmented eyesight for any active security systems or traps. The scanner flickered over the room, its feed returning a calm green. We were safe - for now. No movement detected behind the steel doors that housed the dead. No armed guards rushing down the warehouse corridor to meet us. Steve was already clambering towards the door, his fingers fumbling over a keypad adjacent to it. The screen blinked in protest, not accepting the codes he was punching in with increasing desperation. "Damn thing is locked," he muttered, squinting at the stubborn device. "We’re stuck inside of here!" "Whoa, slow down, cowboy!" I yelled, moving closer to him. My fingers brushed past his shoulder as I shoved him aside gently. "If you keep slapping in bad codes, you’re gonna end up calling down a whole swarm of corporate security on us." My hands moved quickly over the cold device, looking for its physical access port. "Give me a second." Steve bounced on his heels with anxious energy, chuckling awkwardly. "Right, right," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "You take the wheel, Kat." I nodded silently and crouched before the keypad. My fingers found the elusive port hidden under a tiny hatch on its left side, and as they made contact, I realized that this lock was of a much higher grade than the devices I’d dealt with earlier this evening. I’d have to connect directly to my cyberdeck for the job. I uncoiled the neural interface cable from the port in my neck, the thin metallic cord glinting in the light. Plugging it into the interface receptacle, the world shifted slightly as digital landscapes overlaid reality in a shimmering cascade of lock tumbler and actuator schematics. "Alright," I whispered. "There’s no actual security on the lock, but the tumblers are only powered when the correct code’s entered. I’ve gotta force a power surge to jolt this thing open." I heard Steve shuffle closer, shoes still squeaking against the concrete floor. "Need any help?" he asked. "Just stand back," I instructed, flicking my eyes sideways in a warning glare. Steve got the message, taking a few steps back. I closed my eyes, focusing on the schematic, my fingers twitching as I honed my concentration in on the lock’s power supply. A sudden noise made me flinch and focus. I opened my eyes and turned to see Steve accidentally tripping over an empty can in his nervous pacing. "Steve!" I hissed, my heart pounding as the can clattered away into some far corner of the room. "Sorry," he whispered, eyes wide and sheepish. He froze in place, no longer daring to move. Gritting my teeth, I shut out the distraction and dove back into cyberspace, wireframes of lock tumblers and circuit pathways swimming back into view. I maneuvered through the chaos, tracing a pathway toward the core of the lock's power supply. Network traffic rippled around me, dappling the air with shards of light as I cataloged possible points of entry. I was ticking off options in quick succession - too fortified, too risky, too time-consuming - when a small, open subroutine caught my eye. A voltage regulator. The vulnerability was small...but exploitable. "Got it," I advised, manipulating the subroutine’s configuration in such a way that, once restarted, it would deliver the electronic equivalent of an explosive charge. "Fingers crossed," Steve mumbled as my hands moved in mid-air, mirroring the actions I was taking within the network. With a tense flourish, I finalized the edits to the subroutine and reset its service state. Almost immediately, the digital landscape flickered, then brightened as the lock hummed with overloaded energy. And then came the satisfying sound of success: the tumblers snapping into position with a sharp click. The morgue door popped open a fraction, enough for Steve to grab the edge and pull it wide. A gust of warm air swept over us, carrying the faint metallic and dusty smell of the adjacent warehouse. I drew back, releasing myself from cyberspace, disconnecting the neural interface cable, and stowing it away. The sudden shift in my surroundings was always a jolt, but with the stakes as high as they were, I shook off the disorientation quickly. "Move," I commanded, gesturing toward the open door. Steve, ever eager, slid past and disappeared down the hallway toward the darkened warehouse. I followed, my boots thudding faintly on the linoleum floor. Mercifully, the inner warehouse door had remained unlocked, and we slipped inside. The automatic lighting slowly came to life, washing over the many rows of metal shelves lined with medical containers. My eyes darted toward the trio of security cameras overlooking the space, verifying that they were still offline from my earlier visit. Satisfied, I turned my attention to the shelves. "Alright," I instructed, leading Steve toward the area where I’d found the missing shipment. "We need crates 8224 through 8234. See if you can start rounding them up while I figure out how to get the loading dock open." Steve nodded, his eyes wide. "Okay. Got it." He darted off, his lime-green pimp suit flashing in the monochrome space. My attention swiveled to the loading dock door. It was an old model, a mechanical behemoth that was operated via a large electric switch on the wall. I crossed over to it, studying the ancient system. Raise switch to open. Lower switch to close. No fancy electronics to hack this time, only raw horsepower. Meanwhile, Steve scuttled from shelf to shelf, talking animatedly to himself as he found each crate. Away in the distance, I could hear his triumphant "Found it!" every few moments, each success punctuated with a loud thud as he hauled another crate onto his shoulder. "Careful," I warned. The last thing we needed was a security patrol overhearing our little shopping spree. In reply, I heard an embarrassed chuckle and a muttered apology. "I’m gonna get this door opened," I added. With a determined tug, I yanked at the heavy switch. It resisted for a moment before giving in, snapping upward with a loud clack. Dust particles danced in the air as I retreated, watching the loading dock door shudder to life. The rusty gears ground against each other, protesting their duty. As the monstrous portal shrieked open, the damp smells of the outside world drifted in - wet concrete, rain-soaked trash, and the faint trace of burning gunpowder. They mingled with the sterile scent of the warehouse interior, creating an unusual cocktail. The alley outside was dimly lit by a single, flickering street lamp, beneath which sat an idling Combat Cab taxi. I pressed my body against the edge of the open door, checking the street for any other signs of life. It was empty and quiet, save for the soft hum of distant city sounds. "I think our ride’s here," I called back to Steve as I cautiously stepped out into the rainy night and approached the car. It was a large, mustard-yellow Chevillon Thrax 378 Decurion with machine guns built into its front and rear bumpers - a beast built for getaways. Its huge block motor purred like a predator, the soft glow of its headlights piercing through the gloom. As I drew up on the left side of the car, its driver’s door window rolled down, revealing a Middle Eastern man, probably in his fifties, with short salt-and-pepper hair and expressive dark brown eyes. "Are you our taxi?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. He gave a gruff chuckle. "Are you Steve?" he replied with a gruff chuckle, quirking an eyebrow. "No, I'm Kat," I said, throwing a glance back at the warehouse. "Steve's inside, getting our…ummm…luggage." "Understood," he responded. "In that case, I am Rami, your driver." His voice was rough and gravelly, worn down by years of inhaling gritty city air. With a pop, the taxi’s oversized trunk opened. Rami gestured at it with a gloved hand. "Load up." Dodging raindrops, I headed back inside the warehouse to find Steve struggling with a stack of crates labeled "Trauma Team." His face was drenched in sweat, and his hair stuck to his forehead in wet clumps. "Need a hand there, wonder boy?" I quipped, smiling at his efforts. "Only if you're willing," he replied, stepping back as I walked over to stand beside him next to the stack of containers. Working together, we loaded them into the waiting taxi, quickly filling up its trunk with the illicitly-gained goods. The boxes made dull, heavy thuds as they were stacked haphazardly inside the cavernous space. "More?" Rami's voice echoed out from the car, his tone grating like sandpaper on metal. "Just one more," Steve yelled, hefting another box into the trunk. As we loaded the final box, the warehouse door suddenly ground shut behind us, despite the fact that neither of us had thrown the switch. Slamming the trunk closed, I glanced at Steve. His eyes met mine in a mutual understanding of our sketchy situation. "Time to go," I whispered, brushing my soaked hair out of my eyes and grabbing his arm. "We've overstayed our welcome. You better come with." "Right," he nodded, stumbling a bit as we ran to the passenger doors of the waiting cab. There was an urgency in his steps, a clumsy half-run that did nothing for my nerves. The ride began before we'd even settled into the car's seats, Rami not even waiting for the taxi doors to fully close. "Where are we going?" he inquired as he maneuvered the sedan into a hard right on Bellevue Avenue. "This place," I explained, pulling up a set of coordinates on my PDA and handing it to the drive. "It’s in the Badlands." Rami grunted in acknowledgment, handing back the PDA before returning his attention to the wheel. "Hold on," he advised, flooring the taxi’s accelerator. The cab flew over the slick, wet streets of the city, neon lights reflecting off puddles as we sped towards our destination. I pulled off the soaked physician’s coat and tossed it aside before unzipping the front of my netrunner suit down to my sternum and leaning back against the passenger seat. Steve watched me with wide, curious eyes. "You okay?" he asked, his voice quiet. "Fine. Just glad to be out of there. Sorry you got caught up in this part of the operation," I responded, sighing as I watched the city blur past us. Steve shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "Could be worse," he quipped, trying to adopt an air of nonchalance that didn't quite fit him. But the anxiety in his eyes gave him away. "I guess I better call Jing Li and tell her she needs to make Sammy let her back inside the law firm after she’s done getting doctorized." "Good idea," I nodded. "Let her know that we’re okay and just running a quick errand." Fingers crossed that it stays that way…

MEANWHILE…… "Steve! It’s Kat!" my phone blared "I need your help!" I made a Confused face at Jing Li and then I thought about why Kat was calling me on my phone, didnt she go inside the Clinic with us like 5 minutes ago?? So then I said into my phone "What’s up Kat, where are you???" THEN Kat said "I went down into the basement and I broke into the morgue/warehouse and I found the Shipment, the problem is theres 10 pieces and I have to get them out of the warehouse in 30 minutes or the Cameras will turn back on and I will get caught inside of there." I could hear the panic in her voice, and I knew she needed my help RIGHT NOW, but then I made another Confused face and I looked at Jing Li and I said "Wait why would I help Kat do a Crime, I only have known her like 1 hour." But then Jing Li just looked at me all cross eyed and then she barfed inside a Blood Pressure cuff, I guess she was still Concussed. So I asked Kat instead "Wait why would I help you do a Crime??" Then Kat said "Steve, you gotta trust me on this, I know this is illegal but it's for the greater good." THEN I said "Greater good, what greater good, thats pretty unspecific." "UNNNNNGGHH PAAAAIN" Jing Li hollered and then she grabbed a Fire Extinguisher off the wall and started bashing the wall with it, I plugged my ears on account of I couldnt hear my phone and then I heard Kat say "Greater good as in I won’t get strung up by my toes by the Mob Boss who hired me and someone who really needs Meds will get their supplies" so then I thought about it for a second and I was like "Fine, but this better be REALLY good pizza, you need to come upstairs inside the Clinic where I am at on account of I have to Supervise Jing Li until she gets a turn with a Doctor" Then Kat said "Wait what that is going to take an assload of time to get back up there" but then Jing Li Hulked out and started smashing the Breathing machine with her bare hands screaming "CAAAAAAANDUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSS" Then Kat was like "Oh Nevermind be right there" and I hung up my phone and then I said to Jing Li "Gurl you are a mess, you just CANT do anything without making a scene can you???" but she just grunted at me and then blacked out…… LATER ON…… Kat came busting into the Exam room all out of breath, she still had her Doctor disguise on but I could tell she didnt really work here, she had a QR code tattoo on her arm and a Cyberdeck in her neck, plus she was wearing a Net Runner suit under her Doctor coat, so I knew she wasnt a real doctor. "Damn Steve you were right she IS a mess" Kat said as she looked at Jing Li who was sitting/laying half off the Exam Table, then she said "Is a doctor coming here soon???" I was about to open my mouth for words to come out but just then a Doctor came busting in, he bashed the door open so hard the handle went inside the wall Plaster and cracks went everywhere, then he blared "IM DR. SLAUGHTER I’m here to HELP" "OH OK cool" I said, then I started walking out and I said "I’ll be right back, if youre going to do Malpractice wait till me and Jing Li are gone" and I shut the door behind me and locked it, then I said to Kat "OK so whats the rush, also where’s the pizza you owe me?" Kat made a Confused face and then she said "Dude I dont owe you a Pizza, and also the Rush is theres a shipment of Medical Supplies in the basement, I need you to help me move them" THEN I said "OK FINE lets go move some boxes, also where are we moving them, I didnt bring my car on account of last time I tried to Park here I had to drive around the block 80 times before I could find a spot" Kat looked at me and then she said "We’re moving it to the Barrens" "THE BARRENS???" I said with a Concerned face "The’yre kinda dangerous you know that right??? Also I’m not carrying boxes that far!!" Then Kat made Shut Up moves with her hands and she said "Just call one of those War taxis Steve, also" then she took out a small PDA "I have another problem, I dont have the code to the Warehouse door and so we will have to try to Hack it again before we get inside" "Arrrgh why do I have to do everything???" I Hollered "OK Fine, follow me, i'll call us a taxi" and then I made my way to the creepy staff break room while I called Combat Cab, I dialed 1-900-GUN-TAXI and Jingles started playing as the line connected, then a deep voice intoned STAND BY FOR TELEPHONE CONNECTION WE ARE CONNECTING YOU TO THE NEAREST DRIVER TO YOUR LOCATION STAND BY, in the mean while I sat down on the old couch in the break room that smelled like Ass, it had obviously been farted on many times, then a foreign voice on the other end of the phone said "Yeah?" I said "HELLO are you a taxi???" the man replied "Yeah I’m a Taxi, what do you want??" Then I said "OK I had to be Sure." Then I told him we had 2 passengers and 10 boxes in the Next 30 minutes that had to go to the Barrens and he said "OK I’m already there now I’ll just pull around to the loading dock but if youre not there in 30 minutes or less or if you make me wait I will be leaving and it’ll cost you an extra 100 eddies" and Then he hung up. Kat sighed "Great now we have 25 minutes to Hack the door and load everything into the Taxi" I looked around the Break Room and then I remembered something I had Noticed the last time I had been here, I went over to the Gun Vending machine and I looked really hard at the part of the machine that went up against the wall, eventually I saw the little latch that I had saw one of the medical people undo when I had been talking to Sammy, I unlatched the latch and then I looked at Kat and I said "ACTUALLY we DON’T have to hack anything, everything we need is inside of here" Kat made a confusion face and she said "Steve lots of guns arent going to get us out of this part of the Mess" But then I undid the latch and I said "Well how about an elevator??" and then I pulled on the Vending machine and it swung open really slowly, on the inside was a Dumb Waiter the same size as a person. Kat walked over and looked at it with amazement, then she said "What the fuck is that???" And then I said "Its a dead body elevator, it goes straight down to the morgue!!" Then Kat said "Wait Why is there a dead guy elevator in the Break Room??" "What you think they take the dead people out through the front door?" I said and then I laughed a little bit at the thought of a gurney with a Sheet covering it going past the check in desk, Kat rolled her eyes at me and then she said "Focus Steve, how do you know it goes to the basement???" Then I explained "WELL last time I was here I guess one of the Bodies fell over and got the elevator hung up half way down, when I was here they had a Mechanic working in the break room trying to unclog the elevator and he said you would think an elevator that only stops inside the Morgue and the Clinic wouldnt break down so much" I pressed the button and the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and then Kat said "Alright so you think we can use this to get us to the basement without setting off any alarms or anything?" and I said "WELL yeha but it will be a 1 way trip, theres no buttons inside of it to bring it back up" but then Kat said "Well i guess we dont need to come back up here anyway." Then she made a grossed out face and kneeled down and crawled inside, I hit the Basement button and crawled in with her as the doors slid shut. It got super dark inside and there was a big lurch and then the dumb waiter started going down to the Morgue. In the darkness Kat said "Well this is a great way to spend my Saturday, trying to avoid goons in a dead guy elevator with a TV attorney." I couldnt see her face but I knew she was smirking, but then I started hearing her start to breathe really heavy. "Um are you OK?" I asked in the dark. "Yeah its just you know………enclosed spaces" She said really fast "I'll be fine just as long as we get out of this thing soon" I couldnt see her but I reached out and I patted her on the shoulder "Well dont worry we will be out of here soon probably." I said trying to sound Confident even though i had never went for a ride in the Dead Guy Dumb Waiter before, Kat didnt say anything but she slid her hand over and squeezed mine in the dark before letting go. Suddenly the Dumb Waiter stopped with a janking noise and the doors open, I could see the dim emergency lighting of the Morgue buzzing in the distance and the Smell of formaldehyde and death. "Alright here we are" I said sliding out of the dumb waiter and offering a hand to Kat "Ladies first."

June 3, 2077 Headquarters, Trauma Team North America Seattle, Washington Evening ___________________________ "Oh for Christ’s sake, Nivens, it’s not that late." I sighed, leaning back in the chair. The glow of my monitor painted my darkened office a sterile blue. Onscreen, Nivens shifted uncomfortably, the holographic projection flickering slightly as he moved. "Late enough." he finally answered. "You know how dangerous Kabuki gets after the sun goes down?" "Aren't you a part of Trauma Team? Or did I mistake you for a desk jockey?" I smirked. Nivens frowned. Outside my 75th-story office window, one of the Pacific Northwest’s trademark rainstorms started to pour, a light drizzle that quickly turned into a downpour. I watched as raindrops raced down the window, blurring the glowing lights of downtown Seattle. My smirk remained as I turned my attention back to Nivens. "Why do you even need me to go down there?" he continued. "You got the alert from NetTech about someone doing a netrun on our datafortress. You investigated the ICE bypass. You confirmed the forged manifest and the unauthorized goods dispatch. And since that time, Thrifty Care’s inventory shows the receipt of thestolen goods. You've done all the footwork, Talbot. You know it's an inside job. Why drag me into this?" "Yeah." I acknowledged with a grumble. "But there's one thing missing. The perpetrator. We need someone that we can indict, Nivens. Netrunning can only take me so far. I need boots on the ground. I want to know who received that shipment and how it moved from..."Sammy’s Surgery Shack"...to Thrifty Care Elysium. I also want a physical inventory done to compare against the manifest." "You’re asking me to go down there incognito. That means no SUV, no armored AV, no team. What do you suggest I do?" I leaned forward, my fingers tapping against my desk in irritation. "Maybe get a helmet. And an armored jacket, just in case. Think. Adapt. Use your training." Nivens squirmed, his features melting into a grimace. "I could refuse this order as a matter of personal safety." he finally muttered, his gaze meeting mine with defiance. His hand went to the bridge of his nose, rubbing it. His discomfort was mildly amusing. "Of course you could." I replied, leaning back into my chair, studying Nivens' face. "You don’t report to me. But you know what hindering a breach investigation could mean for your career. Think of your future opportunities with Trauma Team, Arasaka, Militech, Night Corp, Biotechnica, Kiroshi..." "Alright..." Nivens sighed, the word burdened by dread. His eyes turned to the side as he studied the image of Thrifty Care's exterior on our video call. "I'll do it." I smiled at his capitulation, saying nothing. "And what do you want me to do when I identify the culprit?" he asked. "Don't act. Just observe, record, and report," I instructed, rotating my desk chair toward the panoramic glass window behind me. The city was now swallowed in darkness, lit only by various neon lights and towering holograms. "When the time comes, I’ll handle the apprehension personally." Behind me, I heard Nivens on the feed, shuffling and shifting as he processed my directives. "Understood." he finally said. "And one other thing, Nivens." I added, turning back toward the call. He looked up at me, chewing on the inside of his cheek, apprehension creeping into the corners of his eyes. "What?" "Develop a convincing cover story to explain your removal from Medical Center to Kabuki." "Fine." Nivens sighed, his shoulders slumping visibly. "I'll come up with something." "Excellent." I replied. "Don’t disappoint me." I disconnected the video call, standing from my chair to gaze out at the storm. The onslaught had turned the world outside into a blurred canvas of light and shadow, wild and uncontrolled. Whoever had betrayed our trust had no idea of the storm brewing to engulf them. The world within...the one I controlled...would soon be manipulated into sharp, precise order again.

June 3, 2077 Somewhere in Kabuki, Watson Night City, California Early evening ___________________________ The taxi shook and shook as it passed through the streets of Kabuki. My knuckles turned white as I drove, and my eyes strained in the dark. The area was poverty and desperation, a lethal mix. In the rearview mirror, the corporate passenger was nervously chewing on the cufflinked wrist of his shirt. We passed a group of Maelstrom gang members. Their chrome bodies glinted ominously in the dim light of the street lamps. Their red eyes stared at the taxi, and their tattooed faces were expressionless. The corpo's eyes sparkled with concern. "Faster," he ordered, his voice drowned out by the roar of the engine. "Rough neighborhood. Is not my my place, but what is a corpo like you doing in Kabuki?" I asked. "Meeting with a client," he replied curtly and looked out the window. The taxi passed ruined buildings, their skeletons barely holding up their own weight. Even inside the car, the smell of cheap ramen and oil filled the air, heavy enough to coat the tongue. We passed a run-down noodle shop. Animated pig figures lit up as they sipped bowls of soup. A group of Tyger Claws were racing past us on high-speed motorcycles, their augments flashing. I didn't know where they were going, but since they were in the Maelstrom area, it was a certain bet it was a start to violence. The passenger's anxious gaze turned to the screen in the back of my seat. The area where his client was meeting him was Elysium Heights, a high rise building across the street from a row of rundown shops and restaurants, right next to a recent quadruple murder. "You gonna take the Bellevue Overwalk now? In this dark?" I asked as the corpo pointed to the giant stairway ahead of us. He nodded, his face pale. "Yes. Stop here, taxi driver," he said. The roar of the taxi's engine fell away as I stepped on the brakes and steered us toward the Bellevue Overwalk. The Elysium Heights building appeared, its millions of windows sparkling eerily under the night sky. It dwarfed the settlements crowded at its feet like children seeking shelter from the rain. A giant sign on its side said POD AVAILABLE in Japanese. "You got it, boss," I replied as I drove the taxi to the curb. Lightning flashed in the sky, lighting up the wet and dirty street. The corpo got out, looked at me nervously and then ran under the huge concrete arches of the bridge. I watched through the windshield as he went up the steps of the bridge and melted into the shadows. Just at that moment, two large figures appeared from the other side of the bridge, their cybernetic limbs glinting ominously in the storm light. They stopped for a moment and then turned in the direction the passenger was heading. "Maelstrom," I intoned as I shifted the car into park and unsnapped my Liberty pistol. In Watson, you do not wait for trouble. You shake its hand and punch it first. The Maelstrom gang members moved like ghosts on the steps of the bridge, stopping at a safe distance behind the suit, I placed my hand on the smooth handle of the weapon and slowly exited the cab. It rained continuously, and stains appeared on the concrete. I walked slowly and steadily around the side of the taxi, not daring to let my guard down. The neon lights of Sammy's Surgery Shack, a sequencing sign that read "Jenkins, Jenkins, Jenkins" flashed across the wet asphalt, casting a strange glow over the scene. Somewhere, I heard a burst of many gun shots. Tyger Claws had found their rivals. I walked up the steps of the bridge, through the darkness, following the clack of the Maelstrom gang's boots echoing on the concrete. In the night light I saw my rider, a terrified silhouette. He did not notice that he was quickly being overtaken by the monsters. Ahead, the footbridge curved sharply to the left, leading to another staircase that led to the promenade into Elysium Heights. The Maelstrom gang members approached. I had seen this game before. They would catch him outside the corner, where the corrugated iron and concrete made him not visible to the security inside the building. I moved closer, my steps drowned out by techno beats coming from some nearby place. The man on the right was the taller of the two and was probably the brawn while the thin, slender man on the left was a lookout. As I snuck behind him, I noticed the muscular man extending his mono-whip with a smile on his face. Corpo didn't know it yet, but things were about to get serious. When the ganger unleashed his whip, I lunged forward, drew my pistol, and fired twice. Gunshots echoed across the bridge. The muscular thug fell to the ground, a red pool of blood spreading beneath him. Lightning flashed. His partner spun around, eyes wide in surprise, just in time to catch a bullet between them. His stringy body collapsed next to his fallen comrade, the asphalt soaked in his life blood. The corpo suddenly turned around, his bag tightly held in his arms, his face shocked. His eyes moved from the corpses to me and then back to the corpses. He opened his mouth and tried to form words. But there was no sound. Just pathetic moans of confusion and fear. I put my gun down and walked towards him, bullet smoke billowing into the night air. I said to him, "Come on, your destination is ahead." His wide eyes evaluated me like a cornered, wounded animal. His eyes went to the bag, then back to me. "Don't worry," I added. "Your bag is none of my business." The tension faded from him, replaced by uncomfortable gratitude. He nodded and stumbled in front of the fallen bodies. I turned and continued on to the tower, looking into the darkness. After a while we were there. Corpo stopped in front of the door, his eyes wide, and turned to me. "I don't know... I don't know what I'd do without you. I... I guess I'm lucky, huh?" I shake my head. "Combat Cab doesn't end with a car, my friend. You're safe from now on." Nodding, corpo disappeared into the passenger tower. On my way back down the bridge, I took one last look at the bodies before getting back into my taxi. Another night in the city.

NIGHT CITY THE BAD PART OF NIGHT CITY I Stood inside of my law office listening to the Gang Wars start. They usually started warring about this time but sometimes there was a Sale on the gun stores and so sometimes you would hear the Wars start earlier. But tonite was kind of Normal and my Kurita take out got delivered with only 1 bullet inside of it so there was That. Anyways the real Problem was my message machine. You see Sammy and I had set up a deal inside of a Shell corporation WELL there was some laws we had to obey even though In 2077 laws are like massage therapy where you can make the pain in the ass go away o If u do it right. That's my job. I am a Celebrity Lawyer that does crime and also other laws and my best friend Sammy had a Problem and I had a Solution Sammy isn't a actual doctor yet so he works inside a hospital or something like that, we met when I was suing the hospital for a malpractice where a Patient needed a Butt Amputation but the hospital screwed up and they amputated the good Butt when they should of amputated the bad Butt. Anyways the problem was they couldn't put the good butt back on account of it was inside a dumpster getting ate by a Coyote. WELL would you belive the hospital amputated the bad butt and then my Client couldn't taxi anymore, then the hospital tried to say they didn't do it but I had the Security Tape of the guy throwing half a set of butts in the dumpster and then the hospital agreed to Settle. They EVEN made a Tragedy Tales about it, how that did not put the hospital out of Business I do not know. I hoped Johnny Silverhand would play me in the episode but he got blew to pieces when he nuked Night City like 30 years ago. ANYWAYS Sammy saw how good I was as a lawyer and also he wanted to start a practice, but he isn't actually a doctor yet, he has to do a Residency for like 40 years. He also was living inside his Station Wagon which sucked on account of someone shot out the windshield and Sammy never got it replaced so really I guess he had 2 problems. THEN I told him about my apartment that was in Gang Territory, they knew better than to mess with me other than that time they threw a live Honey Badger in my house and it took over the living room for a week, I had to climb out the Bathroom window to go in and out and on the 2nd floor that is Inconvenient. "Wow" said Sammy, we should be roommates, and I said living in his car was Out of the Question. But then he told me he didn't want to live in Gang/Honey Badger Territory and I said I have a problem solution, I told him I knew a Rent to Own office building down on Hepberly Boulevard and it was super cheap on account of a quadruple homicide that happened there last week, then he asked me how does that involve apartmentinng and I said you're missing the genius of this plan, I heard you say you wanted to make a Practice when you got done working for this shithole which was a guess not the best thing to say in front of the Cheif Surgeon but then he passed a lot of gas and ran out of the room, so he might of had a more critical Issue and was probably distracted. THEN Sammy said "But I can't practice independent" and then I said but you can OWN a practice AND you can live inside of it and what goes on inside your own Home is not a problem. " THEN Sammy said "I don't know Steve, you can get in a buttload of trouble for living illegally inside your business, if the Corporations find out they send the ultracops who jump out of the Airships when your want level goes too high." But then I said The Corporations don't mess with Surgery Shacks that have a law office upstairs on account of THAT usually means AT LEAST one of the tenants is a dangerous psychopath and I am your legal Representation. WELL Sammy looked Confused and said "Wait does that make me the psychopath" and I said you'd be a psychopath to pass up this Business Opportunity." Then I did a smile face to make my Point. Right then the Chief Surgeon came back in with a piece of Toilet paper stuck to his shoe and a bunch of cocaine under his nose and acted like he did NOT hear what I had said before, so that was good. So then Sammy said "I don't know Steve, what do I get out of this other than a living room with a surgery bed inside it and a kitchen that's probably gonna have to have a dead guy fridge or Something in case I mess up" WELL I Said if you will put up the Capital for it I will make a shell corporation called something like DEATH REAVER RECORDS so that they will always be afraid to Sue and I will be your Legal Representation. "That sounds awesome" said Sammy, "When can I move in??" WELL I said the rent to own guys said they will get us the best deal if we take it as is or else it will be a month while they fix up the crime scene. "My dashboard falls in my lap when I sleep and last week the airbag deploded in the middle of the night which made me scream, I think a month is too long." Said Sammy. SO I Said "No prblem if you give me the Funds I can have it this week." WELL unfortunately right at that time the Chief Surgeon walked in again, this time he went over to the Vending Machine in the Break Room and bought a Saturday Night Special, then he walked out again. Sammy made a Nervous face and he said "Uh yeah I'll wire it to you really soon" but then I said that takes too long and I told him Just bring me a bag of Eurobucks after work and I'll handle everything. "I don't know Steve, that sounds like a really good way to get mugged." Said Sammy, but right then some lady Coded and Sammy hauled Ass to go do Resurrection things On her. BUT we had a really big problem, people kept trying to call to get Surgery Shack appointments but we didnt want people to see that Sammy was surgerizing especially not next to his Dining Room, so we had to make an Appointment Line that had no Appointments, all of the people that called went to my message machine and it was m job to erase the Tape every week, so right now I was eating my take out in my law office and listening to the calls. I pushed the blinky light and listened to the tape. YOU HAVE 10 NEW MESSAGES bellowed the tape. FIRST NEW MESSAGE. "Hi I was calling to get an appointment for my hammer toe. Call me back at 9374194747281." "Gross" I said. BEEP went the machine. SECOND NEW MESSAGE. "Hi, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty. You need to call us back at..." I spammed the delete button and said swears at the tape, then the machine went BEEP again. THIRD NEW MESSAGE. "Ahhhhhhhhh!! I need an ambalance now, my leg is on fire!! Help!!!" I deleted that one really fast and hoped nobody had heard it The next message was just a bunch of Gunfire which was kind of normal, people sometimes butt dialed us when they were busy with other Things. BEEP. 5TH NEW MESSAGE. "Steve, this is your mom I know this is a fake phone number and if you think im going to just stop trying to get Damages for the Corvega you rammed through my living room you have a lot to Larn. Call me at my phone number which you know." I ignored that one on account of mom was just mad that I had added 2 picture windows to her living room on accident and then Aunt Baolim had hung laundry from them. The next messages was a bunch of pretty Normal calls for medicals and something about a lawsuit for Trauma Team, that one was actually pretty interesting but those guys have Guns and I wasnt going to sue anybody who could put a bazooka into my office from an airplane. So then I took the tape out of the message machine and lit it on fire like I did every week. I was going to go downstairs to see what Sammy was doing next but the Tiki bar downstairs was pretty lame on account of how it had stopped being a tiki bar after they had added the gun vending machine and some gang wars happened inside and even though the surgery center has a tiki bar still inside the gun vending machine mysteriously Disappeared after the crime scene got called in, so I couldnt do Alcohol and Ammo like I liked to do when I relaxed at the club. SO instead I did Insense from the smell of the burning tape while I ate some coyote meat and watched the gang fire out in the distance, meantime I waited to wonder and think about what was gonna happen next...................

June 3, 2077 Kat’s apartment Japantown, Westbrook Night City, California Early morning ___________________________ "Are you shitting me, Kat?" Theora demanded, her voice tinny and filtered, the incredulity in her eyes clearly visible over the vidlink. "Now's not the time to be stepping away for a…a...whatever the hell that is! This is hard, time-sensitive work!" I rolled my eyes, gaze never leaving the computer screen as I crunched down on another bite of the spicy street food. I could appreciate Theora's dedication, but a girl's gotta eat. "It's a burrito," I retorted, speaking around a mouthful of savory meat. "And, relax, I’m right here. The daemon only has ten ciphers left to crack. We got time." In response, Theora grumbled something unintelligible about never being this kind of doorstop again. I took another oversized bite of the burrito, eyeing several pieces of chopped tomato as they tumbled away and bounced out of view under my desk. "Anyway, how’s that trace tracker holding up?" "Like a champ," Theora snapped, the irritation evident in her voice. "But if you’ve finished stuffing your face, maybe you could lend a hand?" I chuckled, setting down my impromptu dinner. After wiping my hands absent-mindedly on my cargo pants, I turned to the matter at hand: a NetTech Banking ATM in the Pacifica neighborhood with a physical vulnerability that Theora was exploiting. I understood why she was freaking out: netrunners didn't usually handle the "ground" aspect of these escapades, let alone in one of the most dangerous districts in Night City, but she had breaching abilities I lacked, especially when it came to infiltrating financial networks. So, for this shindig, we’d effectively traded places, if not necessarily roles. "Poor little girl needs her snacks," she added, a smile in her tone despite her annoyance. "Hey, I gotta keep my focus up," I answered. "Can't have the best edgerunner in Night City crashing because she's low on carbs." Theora snorted. "Right, of course. Let me know when you're ready to stop flirting with your food and actually do something useful." "You know you can't live without my banter, Theo," I laughed, winking at the camera as I returned my attention to the three monitors in front of me. The truth of the matter was, I’d never be able to pull off this job solo. In order for it to have a fighting chance at success, Theora and I had to work in perfect harmony. She was physically connected to the ATM, allowing me to remotely launch a breach protocol against the sophisticated elliptic-curve encryption guarding the bank's customer network. The first monitor showed her point of view. She was crouched near the machine with an archaic-looking ODIN chip in hand, a cable snaking from it to the faulted NIC we were using for entry. The second display showed the progress of the breach protocol. Normally, doing such a process manually, against a bank network, would be nearly impossible, but thanks to a script I’d cooked up one night when Jig-Jig Street just wasn’t doing it for me, I could essentially automate the busywork of the process and focus on guiding its more delicate maneuvers. The third screen displayed a live feed from the nearest security camera. So far, no sign of any patrols...not that the NCPD or MaxTac were particularly keen on doing anything useful in Pacifica, but better safe than dead and all that noise. "So, we good for time?" I asked nervously, biting my lip as I tapped a stylus against the side of the second monitor. The script was churning away, trying and failing and trying again to find a combination that would unlock our access to the digital gateway. "Not particularly," Theora answered. Her eyes caught mine across the vidlink, and I could tell she wasn’t kidding. "They’ve kicked off an active trace. Please, hurry up." "Theo, be patient," I snapped, although I knew she was right. We didn't have much time before the bank's security AI got wise to our intrusion and locked us out - or worse. "Patient?" Theora asked incredulously. "You’re not the one out here trying to act normal while stuffing a breach cable into the side of a cashpoint machine. Because that's totally normal, right? And all so that you can bounce your connection through Fuyutsuki, Jinguji, and "Milf Guard" for extra security before we can even try hitting Trauma Team?" I winced. "Point taken. Sorry. Just a few more seconds. I promise." "Look, I’m sorry, too, but I’m not convinced that some corpos aren’t still gonna show up in an AV with a Gatling gun and sweep this place clean. So, by all means, take your time," she fired back sarcastically. "Almost done!" I retorted, focusing on the script. "Just gotta…." The decrypter suddenly spit out an insistent bleep, announcing that it’d found a combination that didn’t immediately get kicked to the buffer. Simultaneously, my third monitor flickered to life with a discovery map of NetTech's self-service customer banking network, a red line hurtling along the pre-planned network route as my connection request navigated through the Byzantine labyrinth of proxies and other anonymizing services before reaching the intended target. "We’re there!" I shouted as the login page for Trauma Team's logistics system popped up, demanding a username and password. "Thank goodness," Theora sighed, her voice edged with relief. "And the server hops you set up seem to have momentarily gotten the dogs off our tails. Now, let's hope the creds are still worth all this drama." We’d been hired by a fixer named Igor Stivalko to liberate some medical supplies from Trauma Team's stranglehold and divert them to a drop location in the Watson district of Night City. Although stealing medical supplies would ordinarily be a line I wouldn’t cross, considering the company's predatory reputation, I didn’t feel particularly conflicted about the gig, and we had Igor’s assurances that the end customer was a legitimate charity case. The credentials, allegedly, were a set of legitimate logins from a disgruntled ex-employee. I preferred not to know why he was so disgruntled, and frankly, I didn’t care. All that mattered was that he’d provided us with a window to do some good while also earning a few eddies. Quickly, I keyed in the username and password, holding my breath as they did their thing. The remote system took what felt like an eternity before finally displaying a welcome screen, signaling that I had successfully gained access and was now under surveillance. We had officially crossed the threshold of no return; any mishap from this point forward would have severe consequences. "We’re in," I whispered. "Please, keep that port occupied." On the first monitor, I could see Theora shifting nervously. "I’m doing what I can," she answered. "You focus on finding that inventory as quick as you can so we can be done with this." I sighed anxiously in response, fingers playing across the keyboard as I tried to navigate the monolithic inventory management system. Trauma Team, it turned out, was even better stocked than I could have imagined. Navigating their system felt a bit like being in a never-ending maze, and I could feel my patience and time slipping away as I scrolled through page after page of medical supplies. "Come on," I muttered under my breath, trying to work out how to earmark ten gross units each of various medical supplies, bottled water, and assorted high-end firearms for immediate dispatch. Mercifully, within a few short minutes, I’d managed to figure out the ruthless efficiency of the system and began tagging the requisite supplies. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the trace tracker had gone active again. "Theora," I announced frantically, "We’ve been spotted. Looks like Jinguji figured out someone was bouncing through their network. I’m working on creating the manifest now, but it’s gonna be a real close shave." "Do what you can, but understand that I’m gonna yank this cable and clear out at the first sign of trouble," she acknowledged. "I’ve got you," I responded. "Just give me a few more seconds." A moment later, I’d finalized the manifest and submitted it to the platform. If it was accepted, a certain number of "care" packages would shortly be in transit to the former Wipeout Surfer Shack on Bellevue Avenue in Kabuki. Igor had given me discretion about the drop location, as long as it was in any less-visible area of the Watson district. The shuttered Tiki bar seemed like a good target; it had a loading dock and was in a bad neighborhood that was as known for its gang wars as it was for its rampant poverty. Still, I wasn’t too worried about anybody coming around and messing with the goods. Even though the place was up for sale, the fact that the landlord had it listed as "rent to own" in a preem redevelopment area was a dead giveaway that he wanted it off his hands and no one was biting. I guess a quadruple homicide can have that effect on resale value. "Done and dusted!" I proclaimed, looking on in amazement as a bill of lading materialized on the screen, and the fulfillment began before my very eyes. "Close the connection and get out of there, Theo. The AI is on our heels now." "Roger that," she responded. There was a brief pause, and I could see on the vidlink that she was attempting to pack her gear up without attracting any undue attention. A deafening silence fell across my apartment, punctuated only by the thrum of my rig’s cooling fans and the lively sounds of Japantown's nightlife seeping through my crappy window insulation. Then, just as the echo of my own last keystrokes died away, an alarm started screaming from my terminal - not at the shipment, but at some other red flag. "Time's up!" Theora announced, her voice an octave higher than it ordinarily was. "I’ve got a NetTech Security SUV headed my way. They’re sending in a cleanup team, and if they catch me, they’re not going to be happy with either of us." "Copy that. Go!" I answered back. Seconds later, my monitors went dead as Theora ripped the hardline from the ATM, leaving only our mobile call connected. "I'll decoy them, but you need to get out of there!" Amid the frantic sounds of running and gasping for breath, I activated a set of procedures meant to cover our tracks: a custom botnet that would audit any server where we had administrative access, and, if it was used during tonight's connection hopping, leave behind a trail of digital breadcrumbs leading to an abandoned apartment in Heywood, effectively erasing our footprint. As the protocols executed, I pulled the kill switch on my own machine’s network connection. Simultaneously, I heard Theora’s car door slam and the engine roar to life. "I'm in the car now, Kat! I'm clear!" she gasped. "Preem, dropping off. See you at the payout!" I disconnected the call, falling against the back of my rolling chair. We’d done it, and as a lot of jobs went, this had been a relative cakewalk - no one got their implants exploded, my car didn’t catch any bullets, and some deserving chooms were gonna get their bottled water, band-aids, and bazookas. What more could I ask for? Tequila. What I could ask for was a whole damn bottle of tequila.