Sasha groaned dramatically, slumping across the chair like she was melting. Her suit made a faint hiss as it adjusted to the shift in pressure, the seals loosening at the ankles.
"You're killing me, Yoko. I was promised food ten minutes ago." Her voice had that mock-pathetic whine, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, her expression pulled up like she always had something mildly amusing on her mind. Almost feline.
"Client," Yoko replied flatly, not bothering to look up from her tools.
I was still at the counter, deck in hand. It hummed faintly, still warm from the diagnostics. The design was rough, looked like industrial-grade gear, not exactly premium black-market tech.
Sasha squinted at me. "You the reason I haven't eaten yet?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. Just a second and I'll get going."
"Spiker?" she asked, stretching one leg out of the chair.
"Sure is."
Sasha made a face. "That deck? Seriously? Runs like a shitty toaster."
Yoko glared at her, and Sasha said, "Okay, okay- nice toaster. Premium. Probably makes a mean synth-egg after it works a bit."
Yoko sighed, flicked a hidden switch under the counter, and pointed toward the back wall. "Test node's on. Run it. Don't wanna sell a defective product."
Sasha gave an exaggerated yawn and swung her feet off the seat. "You gonna walk him through it, or just let me starve to death in real time?"
"Hey, I can do this myself."
"I'll die from starvation!"
"Won't die," Yoko said. "Just might get a headache. Node is over there."
"So slooow!"
Amidst their banter, I walked to the back.
I didn't answer. Just took the deck to the back, toward the clearly overused testing rig. The labels were mostly blacked out with tape, and someone had scrawled a message across the main panel in angry sharpie:
NO NET LINK // LOCAL ICE ONLY // STOP ASKING
I plugged the deck in. Misaligned the port. Tried again. Got it.
"Damn. You're really making that look hard."
I ignored her. But her belly was really rumbling rather audibly, further distracting me.
I tapped through the first interface. Triggered DeadAir. The screen pulsed once, buffered, stayed quiet.
Then the ICE field showed up — static web overlay across the node. Normal. Meant the sandbox was doing its job. But the second I moved the pointer across it, the cursor snapped back like it hit a wall. No response.
I adjusted. Tried again. It kicked back. No movement.
Yoko clicked her tongue once behind me. "You're pressing like it's analog. Ease up. It's a reactive layer."
They are not real buttons? Ok, let's do it like it's a smartphone. The deck blinked to life. Node responded. Old civic routing sim. Local loop. The interface kicked up a familiar screen.
EMU NODE: TIER-1 ICE
Response delay: 0.3s
Trace disabled
Good enough.
I opened a basic query. The input lagged. Then locked.
Sasha leaned on the wall beside me, watching over my struggle.
"You gonna click something today, or you just came here to read the prompt?"
I tapped again. The cursor bounced off a field like it hit a wall. No read. Buffer stayed frozen.
"I don't think it's responding," I muttered.
"Filter's blocked," she said, peeking over my shoulder. "See the broken glass icon? That's your jammed handshake."
I hovered. Red blink. Locked.
"Thought so."
Before I could even ask, she bent down—absolutely intentional this time—and reached past me, her hand brushing mine as she tapped a quick command stack on the top-right interface.
"There," she said. "You were pre-scanning without a handshake. Makes the ICE think you're some rogue crawler."
"Right." I reset. This time the field shifted. The cursor moved cleanly this time.
I pulled a scrape buffer. Data returned. Mostly test junk. A win is a win.
Sasha leaned out and began to dress up as Yoko tossed her some clothes from behind the counter. She began to put them over her netrunner suit.
Most of my attention was on the GUI, which I will have to get used to. They had a strange beauty in using raw data as a GUI for most of it.
Yoko hadn't moved much. She watched me, like gauging whether to laugh or reload.
Sasha was already pulling on her boots.
"Next time," she said over her shoulder, "maybe just ask for a tutorial. I charge fair rates."
I bit back a reply. Transferred 2100 eddies to Yoko. Her eyes lit briefly, then she nodded.
"All good," she said. "Test passed."
I placed my cyberdeck on my waist and tucked it in, since I really can't afford to lose it if I leave it in a regular plastic bag with incense.
I lingered a second, then tried: "You mind if I come? I'll pay. Just want to learn a bit more."
Yoko gave me a long look. Blank, almost like she was running a background check in real time.
"You think this is a hangout spot?" she asked. "You bought a deck. Doesn't mean you're one of us."
Sasha shrugged. "I'm hungry. Don't care who pays. He can come if he wants."
"It's not about paying," Yoko said, frowning.
Sasha narrowed her eyes, playfully. "Then what's it about?"
"You really don't get it, do you?"
"You were slow when you started. Everybody is. Doesn't mean they stay that way."
"You're assuming he'll last."
They looked at each other with something unspoken between them. It felt like an old argument that had been had too many times. Then Sasha looked at me.
"You gonna be weird?"
"No."
She gave a slow blink. Then she smiled with corners of her mouth. "Then yeah. Sure."
Yoko didn't say anything else. She just walked past me toward the exit, her shoulder bumping mine lightly, not on purpose. I'm pretty sure they can quickhack me, and I'm dead. This was just a warning.
But my bet is generally that Yoko was somewhat a trustworthy person in the game, and it being 2 years before the main events means she isn't much different character-wise.
It's a little gamble, but it could mean that I will have a great teacher for the price of lunch. Friends are valuable things to have. I'm pretty sure that's why this Sasha girl went with it. Networking is important when you are working in the NET.
The Mexican food stand was three blocks over, as I'm told.
On the way there, Sasha chatted casually with me. She walked backwards as she talked.
"Oh, my name is Sasha, by the way, she is Yoko. What's your name? Totally forgot."
"No worries. I'm Caelen. Wanted to ask, how come you and Yoko are chooms? It seems like she is too grumpy for friends, no offense, I hope."
I turned to Yoko as I spoke the last bit and saw nothing but indifference.
I have to act a little dumb, because it wouldn't make sense to pretend I'm from Night City at this point and know how things worked.
"Did a few gigs where we worked together a few years back, occasionally help out in her shop now. Do you remember how happy you were after buying that dusty place?"
For once Yoko seemed actually semi-friendly, reminiscing about the past. Okay, so she is not pure evil, just being overly cautious with me. I have to change my approach then.
"It was a lot of cleaning."
"It was."
I used the time of meaningless banter we had to look over Sasha's body in terms of chrome. And she had a lot, surprisingly. The big blue eyes with a smaller red circle around the iris were obvious implants, and they looked absolutely insane to see in person. People usually prefer to have something less noticeable, but I guess I was seeing the wrong people.
Now that I look at her face, the black lining on her face does look like two whiskers of a cat on each cheek. I heard there exist exotics, people who modify themselves with bioware to be essentially an equivalent of a furry.
She had her replace her hands and something within the fingers particularly, seeing many shiny linings on them, which was unusual for most usual mechanical functions. Her legs were also unusually quiet as she walked, meaning she had tendons replaced or even more. Maybe more cat-like implants.
I glanced down at her gun. Bright pink. Holster snug against her thigh. Balanced perfectly for a quick draw. She might joke like a kid, but her gear and posture said something else, this was a woman who'd killed before, and more than once.
She wore a bright pink half-cut jacket over her netrunner suit as well as her pink sneakers. Stylish and clean. I have to up my game myself.
Soon we arrived at the place where the food was. Yoko never said a word, even when Sasha tried to invite her into our conversation. And it seemed like Yoko was less chormed out, and her modest clothes didn't help with the evaluation.
We sat in silence at a metal table that used to be painted red. Most of it flaked off. The stool under me wobbled slightly but didn't collapse. Good enough. Better than where I usually ate.
Sasha ordered for all three of us like she'd done this too many times to ask anymore. No menus. Just a few short words in Spanish everybody could recognize.
I transferred the 44 eddies I was asked to. The cook nodded and went sicko mode on that stove. It better be worth it.
We, as a group of 3, went over to the nearby scrappy table and sat down. I placed down my bag near my leg so nobody would snatch it somehow, even if this place didn't have many passersby.
We waited.
Yoko sat beside me with the drinks and placed one for each of us. Then she placed her hands on her knees, without even touching her drink. She didn't look tired. She looked bored.
Sasha tapped a rhythm on her deck case with one finger on the other side of the table. Humming some sort of melody as she was distracting herself from the tasty smells. The cook brought over a drink for each of us. No idea what it was, maybe some synth juice.
"What did you want to know? Also, I need additional payment besides food," she asked, without looking up.
"Basic netrunning stuff mostly. How much do you have in mind?"
"No, no, tell me, how do you not have a record of your face? Some NUSA face implant? Work for some bigshot? Are you a Nomad? That's a heck of a piece of information to know going forward."
She leaned across the table halfway, elbows pressing into the edge, like I was some zoo animal.
I kept my tone ambiguous. "They forgot to put me in the system in the hospital after I was born."
Sasha made a loud "tsk" with her tongue and leaned back, clearly not buying it. "Come on. You're trying way too hard to be mysterious."
I really don't have the information she would find satisfying without straight telling her about world-crossing bullshit.
"You're trying too hard to be interested. Not your biz, as they say."
That got a short laugh out of her. Not forced. Kind of loud, but not fake.
Yoko didn't react. She hadn't even touched her drink.
Sasha slurped the drink and talked through it. "So what, you just fell outta the sky, bought a budget deck, and now wanna be a netrunner overnight?"
"Something like that."
"You know it doesn't work like that, right?"
"I know that well."
I took out my pills and took them, using the drink to push them down.
That was fucking alcohol. Daydrinking is not what I expected to do today. Won't go great with antibiotics.
Sasha squinted at me like she was checking for sarcasm. "Then why are you trying? You got some fantasy about raiding corp servers? Dumping daemons on CityNet for the cred?"
I didn't say anything. Let her do the talking. Also, I am a little overwhelmed by the questions. I really didn't see the optimal way to answer, besides sticking to her being entertained by me as a concept.
Sasha gestured with her drink. "You do. You're one of those. Let me guess—you had a boring-ass corpo job, then someone crossed you, and now you're out for revenge. I got you figured out, just relax and share the deets."
She got the part of it somehow. I really do look like an ex-corpo? I did technically work for a corporation. I've got to adopt a more laid-back personality.
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah," she said, propping her chin up with one hand. "Makes it more fun."
"Fun? Me potentially being a corpo?"
She nodded, mouth full of rice. "Yup. This life's only fun if you're at least a little fucked up. Or high. Everybody in this city has a story."
Yoko let out a quiet breath through her nose, like she'd heard the same thing too many times to correct it again.
I smiled a little. "Guess I should be flattered."
"Should," she said, then turned back toward the cart. "Still hungry though."
I looked around the stand. Still empty. The cook was cleaning his flat-top with a wire brush like we weren't even there. Professional doesnt get involved in the biz he hasnt any part in.
"I'm just looking for people who know more than I do. I really want to learn the NET from the best."
"So a leech," Sasha said. Then she said it like it was a compliment.
"Information has to come from somewhere. And I'd rather know the face."
"Sure. But usually it's earned from a trusted fixer, not bought with tacos."
I shrugged. "It's all currency in the end, isn't it?"
Sasha made a game show buzzer noise. "Wrong answer. Info's worth more than eddies. You give up secrets, you don't get them back."
She sipped her drink once again, popped her lips, and then went on. "But maybe you're just trying to be friendly, and this is how you flirt. Honestly, paying for my food, you are almost halfway there."
Yoko suddenly spoke. "You're talkative today. I thought you were hungry?"
Sasha sneered at her. "You just jealous cause he's not flirting with you? Maybe smile a little and a guy will fall for you as well."
I do think she is just messing around, since I really don't have the looks to fall for at first sight, since I look around 26 and I'm like 7/10 at best. If it were to happen that we got together, I do believe my fair lady back in my world would murder me. So big no.
Yoko finally picked up her drink but didn't take a sip. "I'd rather have a gun at their balls when they tried."
Sasha laughed like it was a joke. I didn't.
It was too casual. Too even. Shit. Yoko has a gun to my balls.
I looked down slowly. Her left hand wasn't visible under the table. I had a pretty good idea where it was.
My tone dropped. "We got a problem? Not trying anything sneaky here."
My heart stared to pump as my adrenaline rushed.
Yoko's voice stayed level. "Leave quietly."
Sasha raised a brow. "Yoko, really?"
"You're asking too many questions," Yoko said. "You pay and you leave."
"It's literally lunch," Sasha said.
"Exactly. Our lunch. Delta outta here."
I didn't move. "You pull the trigger, and the contents of my balls will stain you, that would be a shame."
No lie I can muster will be believable in the long term, and considering she has ties with Wakako, it wouldn't be long if she found out. My strategy for this time is joking banter and 0 provocation.
"I can afford a dry cleaner, a customer came by today," Yoko replied.
We stared at each other. My neck prickled, but I kept my eyes on her. Didn't flinch. Just waited. She is just scaring me off.
Sasha leaned her chin into her palm again, watching the tension like it was part of the show. Bitch, help.
"Okay," she said slowly, "I'm gonna say something crazy."
Neither of us spoke. The gun stayed where it was, and mine was too far away to quick draw without losing at least one ball. Which would be an somewhat acceptable loss. But I could not counter a single quickhack, the likes of "suicide" if it worked on a freshly chromed person. Sure hope it doesn't.
Sasha pointed her straw at me. "I don't think he's here to fuck us over."
"Statistically," Yoko said, "most people don't start out hostile. Doesn't mean they're not trouble."
"Fine, I get the statistics," Sasha said. "But you're making it awkward."
Yoko didn't answer.
Sasha looked into my eyes, and her eyes flashed green. She flicked files to me, meaning I received a bundle of files on my system.
"Beginner's suite," she said. "Basic scripts, with detes on where to run them. Some sandbox simulations, used it a while back. Might help you not look like an idiot next time. Gets you into our little semi-private BBS, if you figure out the hidden file system. Feel free to message, and I'll help out when I can."
Then I got a notification of getting a new contact in the corner of my eye. Her avatar was a smug pink cat, the short message accompanying it was "Hi. By the way, you got hacked by me. Good ICE, by the way."'
Yeah, figures about being hacked. Nothing stored there yet, so feel free to browse.
I glanced sideways at Yoko. Then straight to her. "Why?"
She shrugged. "'Cause I don't like watching people fumble. And you will be a great before-and-after ad. Complete leadhead into Bartmoss 2.0!"
"By the way, what's BBS?"
"Bulletin board system. Share, sell, buy. Basically a fully online black market for netrunners and a hangout spot at the same time. Yoko hosts one."
"Got it, thanks, Sasha."
And just like that, she stood up. Wiped her hands on her thighs and stretched with a long yawn.
"I'm gonna go get our food before Yoko actually shoots you. Be right back in a sec. By the way, don't shoot him, Yoko."
The tension didn't break, it just slipped under the surface again. Yoko put down her gun as her arm shifted.
Sasha came back with more than just drinks. The cart cook followed her, dropped two steaming plates on the table, and took a paper tray for himself to eat from behind the counter. Guess it's lunch for everyone. She sat down again like it hadn't taken fifteen minutes.
It was really a little feast of Mexican food, which was greatly appreciated, even its fake meat, which is really hard to adjust to.
"Didn't know if you wanted spicy or not," she said to me. "Picked both."
I nodded once and took the one closest. Still too hot to eat. Tortilla soaked but not falling apart. Spices cut through the street smell. Didn't look great presentation-wise, but better than most things I'd eaten in the past two weeks.
Yoko took a plate for herself, leaving me and Sasha to share. Guess she is hungry.
Sasha tapped her hands on the table and began to eat instantly. And she ate like a cat too, with long, measured bites. No idea how she could eat the hot food, guess there is an implant for that.
Sasha finished one, licked her fingers, then pointed at me with the other hand.
"Yo, Calen. You'll probably need to install a slot soon. For a deck, I mean."
"Why so?
"Learning speed is really different."
Yeah, makes sense. Handheld is basically so I don't fry myself with DR11, disposable really. Cannot fool around with Militech secrets when it's connected to my head.
My taco finally became cold enough to eat, and when I finally began to take my first bite...
Crack.
Sasha froze, mid-bite.
Another crack. Closer. Louder. A sharp hiss as something ruptured above us—the cart's steam vent exploded in a burst of heat and sparks.
Then someone screamed.
Sasha's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my jacket, dragging me hard off the stool. My elbow slammed the ground. Air left my lungs. A second later, Sasha landed beside met, pistol already in hand.
Yoko had vanished from her seat, crouched behind the dumpster near the far wall, her jacket fluttering as she moved.
We made cover behind a mound of metallic scraps and trash.
The cook didn't get the same luck. A burst hit him clean in the head. He hit the back wall and stayed there lifeless. Fuck.
I took out my gun and disabled the safety. But my left hand wasn't moving right, something wrong with the bones or the nerves. Glanced down and saw red. Not much, but the area of my left tricep was shot. Pain will come to me soon.
"Jammers!" she called. "Four total. Two mounted, two mobile. Can't link out."
"Kill it," Sasha said.
"Working on it. Need twenty."
Gunfire poured in from the alley mouth.
Sasha rolled and returned fire from our cover. Quick, controlled shots, three rounds low, one high.
I gritted my teeth and shifted my grip. Could still shoot with my right. Just had to ignore the rest. Two mags is all I had, so no way I can spray and pray.
Bullets ripped through the cart and table, tearing metal, splashing grease and sauce across the pavement. A barrage aimed to suppress, not hit. Yet.
Gun in one hand, I leaned out, searching targets.
Suddenly, my vision lit up.
Sasha looked at me, and her optics pulsed green.
A HUD element popped up in my vision. PING RECEIVED – Sasha // Marked: 6 hostiles
I nodded in acknowledgment.
Red outlines flared across my HUD, Maelstrom. Two behind a burnt-out sedan parked sideways at the alley entrance. One perched on the hood, chrome arms gleaming, aiming down an optic scope. Another two crouched behind their truck's engine block. One more was closing fast, bounding over garbage piles to flank.
Then he popped out from behind a side pillar without aiming his gun first. Moron.
Sasha fired again, winging the flanker. He collapsed behind a bin with a scream.
I raised my pistol with one hand. The sight swayed. My grip was slippery. I blinked the pain away and aimed for the one crouching.
First shot missed, high. Recoil kicked my arm sideways.
Second shot went low—caught him in the thigh. He jerked, fell.
The third one took aim at me, and I quickly took back to cover. But bullets were flying dangerously close to my head.
"Get your shit together," Sasha growled.
One of them screamed in a distorted voice.
"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, MEATBAGS!"
A rain of bullets came after that, but our cover stood. Maelstrom goons were rushing to our position before, but now they were mostly taking cover of their own and waiting for an opportunity, as we had nowhere to run but a dead end.
Yoko swore under her breath. "Middle jammer's shielded. Rewriting ICE on the left node now."
I started feeling the pain, but it was dulled by adrenaline.
I looked at the opportunity for the next shots as my body began to tremble.
A grenade clattered against the pavement and bounced once. Right next to me.
I kicked it hard.
It bounced back toward the truck Maelstrom was hiding behind—and detonated in midair.
BOOM
I then tried to pull Sasha further into cover as she was busy shooting Maelsortm. Shrapnel rattled off walls and dumpsters. Something hot carved a line along my ribs. I didn't scream, but I did fall backward, breath gone again.
"FUCK!" I screamed.
"Just a bit more! And done!" Yoko shouted as she was still staring into nothing.
Sasha got out from my grasp and once again came to the edge of our cover as I saw multiple Maelstrom goons come closer, stopping at just on the other side. Another burst of fire sprayed over our cover. I ducked, arm over my head, feeling the bullets sting the air inches from my scalp.
"Now!" is the message I received on my holocall from Sasha.
Without thinking, I pushed myself up, spine stiff, leg dragging.
I fired off my last ten rounds. Tried for the head each time, missed most.
One Maelstrom began to run at me, screaming something unintelligible. I squeezed the trigger.
Miss.
Another.
Miss.
My third bullet finally struck his neck. He stumbled. Yoko's pistol finished him before I could adjust.
Clipped the second.
Hit the third twice, torso and throat.
The final Maelstrom collapsed without a sound, falling sideways into spilled salsa.
I dropped back into cover, out of ammo. My hand wouldn't open. I had to shake the gun loose.
"Move!" Yoko shouted. "More inbound!"
Sasha checked her HUD. "Three more vehicles! We're boxed!"
"Calling Falco!" She added, voice flat, breath steady.
I struggled to reload one-handed. Slid a fresh mag in. Jammed the slide. Nearly fumbled it.
"We won't get another chance! Run!" Yoko said and began running and Sasha followed closely.
I ran behind them, and then we saw 3 more Maelstrom cars roll in, two of them had turrets on the roofs. But we were too far away this time, and there was no cover.
"GET RIGHT BACK HERE, BITCH!" one of them shouted.
Ones that peeked out the window of the closest car got off a few messy shots before also having their guns jammed and their drivers burst into flames.
As we ran, shots were landing all around, but all of their drivers were hacked, and they couldn't get closer without getting on foot.
But when we finally reached a turn to another block, the sight of dozens of quickly approaching colorful bikes blocked our view. A full squad of bikes in formation, wielding blades and SMGs, charging down the street in a full gang rush.
Luckily they drove right past us and right into the Maelstroms.
Maelstrom opened fire.
The street lit up like a warzone.
The truck came barreling in, raised suspension and thick armor plating, engine growling like a beast let off its leash.
Sasha shoved me toward the truck's passenger side. "Go!"
I didn't argue.
The door swung open, and I climbed in, body shaking. Yoko threw herself in after me.
Sasha followed, vaulting in as bullets pinged off the armor.
The truck peeled out. Tires screaming. We left the alley in chaos, with the Tyger Claws tearing into Maelstrom and me bleeding from two places, vision dimming.
"Shit," Sasha muttered, pulling a medpatch from the dash. "You look like hammered garbage."
My mouth tasted like blood. "Been… worse… recently…"
"You'll pass out in five. Hold still."
Yoko applied a foam injector into my thigh. The pain dulled. Not gone, but distant.
A man with a moustache hat glanced back in the mirror. "Where to?"
"Nearest ripper," Sasha said.
I slumped against the seat, breathing shallowly. Strangely feeling fresh, the drugs were doing their job.
Then it hit me.
Falco.
That voice. That face.
But I said nothing.
No way. That's Falco. That's Maine's crew. This is Edgerunners.
But I didn't say it aloud.
I wasn't ready today. I wanted to go shopping.