All Foods Factory — Maelstrom's home turf.
To be precise, the whole industrial park belonged to them. After parking, Vash and Jackie walked toward the entrance of the processing plant, boots crunching on gravel in the dark.
"Sometimes I really don't wanna deal with those Maelstrom gonkheads." Jackie muttered, "You know, V — those freaks are different from the other gangs. Different kind of crazy, choom."
Vash already knew, but he played along, "Yeah? How so?"
"Night City's crawling with gangs, but most ain't worth talkin' about." Jackie shrugged, "Take the Valentinos in Heywood — they got God, the Virgin Mary, rules about respect. They know what they love, what they hate, where the line is. Even if other crews run different hustles, at least they follow some code."
He spat to the side, "Maelstrom? They don't care. No code. Just chrome and blood."
As they talked, they reached the factory gate.
Vash stepped up to a biometric intercom set into the wall and pressed it.
A moment later, a raspy voice crackled through, "Who are you? Who you here for?"
"We're here to see Royce. Dexter DeShawn sent us." Vash said.
If anything went wrong, it was always safest to pin it on the Black Jesus of the Afterlife. Maybe Dex could work a miracle too.
"DeShawn's crew, huh? Get your asses in. Been waiting."
The gate motors groaned, and the doors slid open.
Two automated turrets were mounted just inside the entry, their infrared targeting sweeping over Vash and Jackie before deciding not to paint them as threats.
They stepped in.
The factory was a cave of shadow and scrap — piles of junk, half-assembled weapons, mismatched gear, and stolen tech stacked like trophies. Most of it looked black-market, lifted, or ripped from someone else's hands.
Vash spotted plenty of Militech tags in the mess alone.
"Damn." Jackie breathed, "They're armed to the teeth, choom."
It was his first time inside Maelstrom HQ, and even he couldn't believe how much hardware these lunatics had stashed.
"V… this could get ugly."
"Easy, Jack." Vash said, keeping the same pace, "We're not in a rush."
Somewhere along the way, Vash had become the calm one in their duo. No matter how bad the angle looked, he never let it show.
Jackie believed in it too — V was the real deal.
They pushed deeper, until they reached a brightly lit workshop. Maelstromers lounged and milled around inside, optics and implants gleaming as they threw hostile looks at the newcomers.
"Gentlemen — welcome to Maelstrom. Take the elevator up." The same voice echoed over the speakers.
In the elevator, Jackie's shoulders tightened.
Vash gave him a look, "Keep cool. We can't afford to lose our composure."
Jackie stared at his steady face, "V… you seriously not nervous, choom?"
"Not really."
The elevator dinged. Doors slid open.
A cyborg with heavy augments — more metal than meat — walked up like he owned the air.
"Dum Dum." He tipped his head, voice scratchy through cyberware, "What can I do for you?"
"My fixer bought something from Maelstrom." Vash said, "Creds already got wired to Brick."
Dum Dum tilted his head, "A'right. Sit. We'll talk."
Vash dropped onto a sofa like he was in his own apartment. Jackie took the other, settling in a little stiff.
Dum Dum perched on the table, pulled out a red vial of Black Lace, and offered it with a grin, "You're our guests. Wanna hit?"
{T/N: Black Lace is a drug that spikes adrenaline and endorphins so high the user can barely feel pain.}
Vash waved it off, "Not my thing. Let's talk business. Royce is running the show now, right? Where is he? I want to deal with him directly."
"Royce ain't here." Dum Dum stood and paced, boots clanking, "Talkin' to me's the same as talkin' to him. So — what do you want?"
"Recently, you hit a Militech transport and grabbed some goods." Vash said, "One piece is a little spider-bot called the Flathead."
"Yeah, we got somethin' like that." Dum Dum's grin widened, "You want it?"
He clapped, and a Maelstrom goon hauled over a reinforced storage case.
"This thing's fun. Lemme show you." Dum Dum popped the latches.
The Flathead crawled out like a steel spider, servos whispering as it unfolded.
"Flathead. MT0D12." Dum Dum sounded almost proud, "Serial's wiped. Locks stripped. All yours — if you pay." He tapped the case, "This baby's got tricks. Dynamic thermoptic camo, neural link… prototype titanium-fiber exoskeleton."
"No need to sell it." Vash said, "We'll take it."
"Great." Dum Dum snapped the case shut, "Where's the eddies?"
Right then, a roller door in front of Vash started to lift.
Royce made his entrance.
Vash raised his voice on purpose, loud enough for the whole room to hear, "The money's already been paid to Brick. By the rules, we take the Flathead and walk."
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T/N: Comment, give me Power Stones, like and favorite, it all supports me and makes me go foward with this. Appreciate my other stories as well, I guarantee the good work!
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That's it and happy reading! (-‿◦)