It's About Saving Yourself Ch 6

Chapter Six. Where Alex falls into a good rhythm Edgerunning. And begins to make a name for himself.

Unfortunately, nothing can ever truly go well in the City of Dreams.

As usual, please leave me a comment.

=][=
Kiwi worked to get past the Scav’s ICE on the terminal. Truly, it hadn’t been difficult to get as far as they'd had, the building was falling apart, with holes in load bearing walls big enough for Maine to walk through.

No, the miracle was that neither Becca nor the rookie had blown their cover yet. One for being an inexperienced gonk and the other…well she was Becca.

She glanced past her AR display at Alex, or Redeye. Honestly, she couldn’t see the Animal’s boogieman when she looked at the rookie. Hell, he was looking all around, but always went back to staring at the wall in the direction the Scavs were inexpertly tearing the chrome off some poor sod or another. Considering he was a Ripper in training, he probably found it offensive in a professional capacity. It would explain why he kept tapping the trigger guard of his shotgun.

Still, why was he staring at the wall?

Alex subvocalized into the job channel. [Shit, either we’ve been had, or they're coming here to grab something. Kiwi keep your head down, I’ll deal with the three. Becca, watch my back.]

Wait, what?

A Scav stepped into the room, looking over his shoulder and saying something to the other two. Kiwi heard a sharp ‘click’ along with a coughing snap, and the Scav’s head exploded into red mist and ez-beef with a dull, hollow thudding sound.

She heard a loud guttural sound that her AR display informed her was Russian for, “What the fuck!?”

Alex was through the door before the Scav finished cursing, there was another muted cough and another hollow, wet thud. Then there was the beginning of a shout, cut off by a third shot, a gurgle, and a fourth shot and a wet spattering sound.

[Three down, according to the Recon Grenade it looks like the one on the next room isn’t reacting.] He said.

Kiwi blinked. So that’s why he’d been staring at the wall. She’d have to talk to him about giving her access to the code key for the grenades. It would have been good for her peace of mind to keep her own eye on the Scavs.

Alex came back to the room, his backpack heavier and his hands covered in blood to the forearm. He reloaded his break action shotgun and Kiwi blinked in surprise. She’d known it was an unusually bulky weapon, but she’d not realized it apparently had four barrels. Becca had gushed about it for five straight minutes. Probably because she’d recognized on sight that it had twice the number of barrels it should and that it had been suppressed somehow.

Kiwi hadn’t even known a shotgun could be suppressed.

The rookie went back to guarding, looking all over the place, his eyes never staying in one location for longer than a few seconds.

Who knows, maybe Gloria’s brat did have it in him after all.

=][=

Lucy vaguely felt her body running hot, the ice water cooling her skin, her blood just barely managing to carry heat from her brain fast enough to keep it from boiling.

She didn't like overclocking like this, it brought bad memories.

She sent another probe to the Biotechnica subsidiary's Data Fortress. It took her another twelve minutes, but she finally broke through the ICE, she plumbed the data stacks, got what she needed, suppressed the urge to leave behind a worm that would destroy their systems and files, and instead worked to extricate herself from the Data Fortress and smooth over her breach.

That an intrusion had happened would be found eventually. But with a little luck, they’d not be able to figure out what files she’d accessed.

She disconnected and stood while Kiwi and Maine muttered, stretching slowly to acclimatize herself to meatspace again, small shudders ran up her spine as the interface plugs disconnected. Her legs were still in the ice bath, but her body was still overheated, so she resolved to stay in place while she got back to regular.

She felt something dry, warm, soft and fuzzy settle around her shoulders, and got ready to zap Pilar once he inevitably got grabby.

To Lucy’s immense surprise, while she felt someone fiddling with something in front of her, her breasts remained unmolested. Once she felt meatspace stop heaving, she opened her eyes and saw Alex tying a fluffy red bathrobe closed. He adjusted it on her shoulders to better cover her chest, then nodded at her (his eyes only flickering down to her cleavage for an instant, but he was a boy, which made that peak politeness) and stepped back.

She saw Pilar standing some ways away, a much smaller and wholly inadequate towel in his shiny new gold-plated hands, scowling at the rookie.

He made to step forward anyways, a sleazy smile coming to his lips, only for Alex to take a deliberate step into his path. Pilar stood to his full height and glared at Alex almost nose to nose, and while Pilar was taller than Alex it wasn’t enough for him to loom.

Not to mention Alex was stocky with muscle. A barrel to Pilar’s pencil. And while Pilar had a lot more chrome, his chrome wasn’t for physical power and Alex had shown he was no slouch in a fight. If it came to blows, Maine would put a stop to it, but Pilar wouldn’t have an easy time of it until he did.

The two remained like that for a long while, their standoff going largely unnoticed by Maine as he went over the data she’d kleped with Kiwi. Until suddenly Pilar spat at the ground next to Alex’s foot (gross) and stalked away, tossing the towel to the side.

Alex watched him leave warily. He glanced her way for a moment before quickly turning away. Lucy got a call a moment later.

It was, of all people, from Alex. [Need a towel?]

She looked down and saw that the bathrobe Alex had inexpertly put around her shoulders didn’t so much hide her breasts as it highlighted her curves and hinted at her nipples. In a way, it was more erotic than being naked.

Lucy huffed a laugh and set about putting the bathrobe on properly. “Sure, my hair got a bit damp.”

Alex pulled a towel out of his backpack and held it out to her without turning to look at her. Man, this guy, you'd think he'd never seen a girl naked. She took hold of the towel and tugged gently. “What’s wrong with Pilar’s?” 

Alex relinquished the towel, still not looking at her. “I wouldn’t trust that towel not to be stained with…things. I’d scan it, but I think I feel better not knowing.”

Lucy shuddered as she stepped out of the tub, it was only half due to the ice water. She opened her mouth to say something unflattering about Pilar and her foot squeaked as it slid on the linoleum.

Her heart climbed to her throat, her other leg was still in the tub, she wasn’t standing in a good position to roll with the fall even as her body tried to turn into it, the edge of the tub-

There was a lurch, Lucy was in the air, her head cradled against something hard but warm. Two hard somethings supported her legs and back.

She blinked. Arms. She was held in the air by a pair of arms, she could feel the muscle in them through the jacket over them and her soft fluffy bathrobe.

Looking over herself she realized that, yes, she was indeed being held in the legendary Princess Carry. And damn her, yes, her heart skipped a beat or three.

Lucy felt her face warming. That was due to the fall.

She was taken to a couch in the room they'd been doing the hack in and set down gently. Alex knelt in front of her and took hold of her foot and ankle. “Doesn’t look like you twisted it, feeling any pain? I’m pretty sure I caught you before anything could happen, but you were pretty close to the edge of the tub when I got to you which might have been caused by bouncing off it.”

“Erm…y-yeah, nothing happened.”

He brought a hand up and lifted two fingers while he took hold of her other ankle and examined it. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Lucy did not know what she was feeling, and she did not enjoy that fact at all. “T-Two?”

“Is that a question or a statement? I'm not being pedantic, if you are genuinely having trouble discerning it this might be a serious issue.”

Lucy took a deep breath and forced her voice to sound calm. “Two.” She answered calmly and correctly three more times before he was satisfied.

Alex nodded and returned to examining her ankle.

It was so strange, the big, bulky, heavily armed skull-faced Merc, the Animal’s boogieman who had stood in front of nearly all of Maine’s crew and, according to Kiwi, had had them dead to rights with a solid chance to kill most of them. Redeye was gently turning her foot while he examined her ankle and did a rudimentary medical checkup on her.

He turned his head up, froze for a second, then looked back down at the floor and stood up. “Okay, as far as I can see, you’re good. I'll uhh, go grab you a drink.”

With that he turned and walked out. That was a strange reversal. He’d been perfectly cool and collected until he turned…up.

Lucy looked at the place he had been kneeling in, thought of what he would see from the angle he would have seen it at, and quickly brought her legs together to hide her technically soaked lower lips from view.

She looked up and saw Maine and Kiwi grinning smugly at her. Kiwi didn’t even have a face and she was still grinning smugly. Lucy still didn't know how she managed that. She felt her cheeks turning a little warm. “What?”

Maine’s grin widened. “Nnnnnoooooooothiiiiing.”

Lucy felt her cheeks grow hot, she considered tearing the bathrobe off to prove a point, but all of a sudden she was self-conscious about the act. This was patently ridiculous! She’d been naked in front of the crew more times than she cared to count!

Only…only it was different this time.

And it was so soft and fluffy, it’d be a shame to waste it.

=][=

Pilar headed to Lizzie’s, shooting the shit with Falco. He’d asked around but nobody else had wanted to come with; Maine had gotten punched in the kidney by Dorio soon as he opened his mouth, Lucy and Kiwi had looked at him like he was trash and Becca had shot near him.

That new asshole had gotten all high and mighty and said he didn't do titty bars, what kind of gonk-ass bitch didn't do titty bars!?

At least Falco had come along, word was Judy had released a new Brain Dance and everyone said it was the most nova thing since Demons and Nuns 3.5 (D&N 5 had been a disappointment).

As they neared the entrance to Lizzie’s who did Pilar see but the gonk-ass bitch and his stupid backpack he took everywhere. Oh, Pilar would enjoy this, teach the basic bitch to lie about being just as shit at the rest of the plebs.

He stopped at the door and started talking with the Mox bouncer gal. Shieeet, they even knew him, oh this shit was preem.

“Yo rook! So it turns out you’re just like the rest of us, huh!? Thought you was too high and mighty to slum it out with us other plebs!?” He said with the best sneer he could muster.

“Shut the fuck up you gonk-ass input!” The Mox bouncer shouted, brandishing a bat with nails driven into it. “Oi, Alex, this input giving you shit? Want us to break his legs?”

Pilar would blink, but he’d long before replaced his meat eyes with superior chrome. “Wait wha-?”

“DID I TELL YOU YOU COULD FUCKING TALK!?” The other bouncer at the door shouted, making everyone in the street flinch.

What the shit was going on!?

Alex put himself between the two bouncers and Pilar, his hands up placating. “Frida, Jenna, it’s okay. He’s an acquaintance from work. We get along well enough at work but don’t see eye to eye on some stuff is all.”

The two Moxes sneered and one of them spat at the ground, it landed right on Pilar’s foot, so maybe she had aimed it there. And while that was kinda hot, seriously, what the fuck!?

“Yeah, well if you say he's cool, I guess he's not blacklisted.” 

What!?

“Uhh.” As he hesitated, Pilar turned to glare at Alex, this made the Moxes heft their weapons. “I mean. I don’t have a problem with the guy, but also don’t want to be held responsible for his actions?”

The two Moxes glared some more at Pilar, then giggled. They fucking giggled!

“Fuck Al, never change. Go on in, Mateo wanted to talk to you about something. The girls need some time before you see them.”

Alex nodded, thanked them, and walked in.

Pilar and Falco stepped up and paid the cover charge, but a bat and a machete barred Pilar’s way. “What the hell, chooms!?”

The Moxes glowered at him. “It's double for you, input. Moustache over there is fine. But you gotta pay the dumbass fee.”

“What, why!?”

“Because fuck you! Now pay up or fuck off!”

Pilar grumbled, but he paid, no way was he going to miss out on the new BD. He'd already almost been spoiled!

Stepping inside, Pilar was almost floored. The Mox, as a rule, glowered and insulted, it was part of their brand. Which meant he was either on a bad BD trip or the world no longer made sense.

“Yo Alex, be my output!” Shouted a Mox serving drinks.

“Not right now Brenda, but thank you, the offer is very flattering.” The rookie answered, cool as a cucumber. Pilar didn't know what a cucumber was, but judging by the fact that there was a whole saying about it, they were very cool indeed.

“Yo Al, wanna get a drink!?”

“No thank you, on the clock. Maybe on the way out?”

“I'll hold you to that, output!”

“I keep telling you girls, I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“You’re no fun!”

There were other good natured catcalls, wolf whistles, and every woman and some of the men all but flinging themselves at him.

What happened? Since when was the gonk-ass rook with the pole up his ass a player with a game so raw he had the fucking Mox throwing themselves at him!?

The whole of the Fucking Mox at that!?

What the serious fuck was happening!?

Falco went straight for the BD wreaths but Pilar would not be denied!

He went to a corner, watching as Alex went to the bar and Mateo greeted him like they were long lost brothers. Pilar put in an order for a drink and ground his teeth when there was a ‘dumbass fee’ on the e-receipt.

When his drink finally got to him, Pilar had been forced to watch literally every Mox either flirt with Alex or treat him like family, and it was infuriating! He'd been coming to the bar for…uhh…a long time, and they still treated him like dirt!

He flashed the server with his most charming smile, the one that always made Lucy preemptively shock him. “Hey sweetheart, can I ask you a question right quick?”

The server, a pale younger girl, probably fourteen or so and mostly ‘ganic, nothing going on in her chest but she was a leggy thing, with an ass that made a guy want to sink his fingers into it. She had big green eyes, a little nose, and a wide mouth well on its way to being the very definition of perfect cocksucking lips.

She had a little blue teardrop either painted or tattooed below her left eye, and her hair was a wavy waterfall that fell to her lower back, perfect handhold. Pilar couldn't wait for her to star in one of the Mox BDs.

She looked up at him, her service smile needed a bit more work, but she was probably still green, so he’d let it slide and give her a good tip just cause of the mental image of those lips wrapped around his-

“Yes?” The girl asked, needing to almost shout to be heard over the music.

Pilar reminded himself to think with his second most important head and said. “Sorry to keep ya, sorry to keep ya. Just was curious is all. That guy over there? With the backpack talking to the bar guy. What’s his deal? Never seen the Mox treat a guy so well.”

The girl’s face split into a shy smile that made the one she gave Pilar look like a sickly, dying thing. He knocked some eddies off the tip he was going to leave. “Oh, Alex? He's a great guy. Sort of became the Mox’s unofficial Ripper.”

The hell? “Unofficial? How’d that happen?”

The girl scrunched up her face cutely as she thought, the tip went up a few eddies. “Well, I heard it from the friend of a friend of a coworker of a friend. The whole thing started before I was working here. Apparently he was doing work fixing the building’s wiring. One of the girls had a bad reaction or something, and he just…treated her. Saved her life, did a whole checkup, told her a bunch of stuff to watch out for and put in a word for her with a Ripper to get alternate meds on the cheap. Then went back to doing wiring and checking the building’s terminals.” 

She tucked some of her hair behind an ear, looking at the rook with a pouty ‘I wanna jump his bones’ face and cute little blush. Her tip fluctuated but ended up rising a few eddies. “There's not a lot of detail to the story. Some of the girls asked if he was willing to do the whole doc thing. He said yes. Now he does a monthly check-up with us. Charges very little or none at all and if the Mox needs chrome, he finds good deals that’ll play well with whatever other chrome the girls have. I don't really know much about that stuff, but I'm told he barely does a mark-up. Apparently, there’s a betting pool for who…Erm…that doesn’t matter. A-Anyway, anything else sir? I need to go back to work!”

“Nah sweetie, thanks a bunch.” Pilar said and wired the girl her tip. She squeaked and bowed to him and ran off.

Pilar shot back his drink and went to sit at the BD station as one of the Mox ladies came by and took the rook to the back. What kind of gonk-brain gets a whole gang of fine-ass ladies hot to jump him and then doesn’t indulge?

Pilar put the BD wreath on and selected Judy’s latest masterpiece. He’d worry about figuring out the dumbass kid later.

=][=

Becca was pissed.

Normally, this fact would be followed by bullets flying. She was a mercurial thing, that was a good word, ‘mercurial,’ she’d heard it in a BD or something and liked it.

She couldn’t help but think about the unfairness of it all. She'd gone off to do a job, and everything was going just fine until she ran into a ‘borg asshole with dermal plating so heavy that none of the iron she was carrying could pierce it.

One thing led to another, a testicle may have been blown off. Point was, she ended up with her arms and legs duct taped together, a rag that tasted like someone had had a little too much fun with it shoved in her mouth, and another strip of duct tape had been put on top, which would just ruin her makeup.

Also, she had spent the last ten hours in a briefcase. And while she enjoyed the fact that she was able to unironically call herself travel sized, Becca was not a fan of her current situation.

The case opened up, her Kiroshis compensating for the sudden glare allowed her to see Maine and the crew sitting on ratty ass couches with ‘strom assholes pointing guns at them. Maine looked murderous while Alex looked awesome and inscrutable, his face a green skull with a glowing red eye.

Her gonk of a brother was jeering, probably getting off on seeing her all tied up. Kiwi and Lucy had the glassy look they got when they were hacking something.

Becca only hoped Dorio would let her live this down.

Things were getting heated, shouting was happening, guns were waved about, and Becca was not going to get to have any fun whatsoever in the coming fight.

Then the world blurred, she was on the floor behind Maine, her arms and legs free and holding Alex’s familiar and boring-ass Omaha.

+Waste the fuckers.+ The Maelstrom asshat that had replaced his whole face with an ancient drone scanning suite calmly and loudly stated through his monotone voice synthesizer.

And then they started vomiting, keeling over from heat stroke, dancing in place as their chrome electrocuted them, their guns failing to do anything when they pulled the triggers and their chrome jammed when they tried deploying it.

Becca and the crew shot them all down in a one-sided slaughter that was over far too quickly. By the end, Becca’s throat hurt too much from laughing.

Sure, her arms and legs were screaming at her, her body rebelling after spending too much time cooped up. But she was free and she got to shoot, so she wasn’t going to complain.

“Oi, where the fuck’s the rook!?” Pilar shouted.

Everyone blinked and looked around, Alex was not in the room. He’d freed Becca, given her a gun, and booked it.

Lucy clicked her tongue and said nothing. Dorio looked hurt and disappointed. Kiwi was Kiwi and Maine looked livid.

“He's off the crew,” Maine growled out as he finished wiping Maelstrom brains off his fist and stalked out of the room, the rest of the crew falling in behind him, “ain’t no way we can trust a guy that ditches us in a fight. Lucy, Kiwi, good job on the hacks. But keep sharp, we’ll have to fight our way out.”

Lucy sighed. “That was all Kiwi, I was still stuck trying to get through their ICE.”

“Wait, what? I thought that was you?”

“Huh?”

Maine was clearly about to demand they stop talking in circles when they ran into the first couple of dead ‘strummers.

“Whuh?” That was Pilar, as always with the smartest summary of the situation.

Everyone got their iron ready and crept down the hall toward the exit. Every few rooms at the meat packing plant they'd find a dead gangster. All of them missing most of their head. A few seemingly drowned in their own vomit.

When they got to the lobby, Becca saw the second most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.

Redeye, sitting on the back of the huge ‘borg that had punched her down and tied her up. He was completely dwarfed by the dead ‘strummer, one foot resting on one of the dead ‘borg’s triceps, the other on the remains of the back of its head, still spurting white bioplastic blood. His back was hunched and he was breathing quickly and deeply, as if he’d just stopped sprinting.

He looked up as they arrived, his glaring red eye set in the blood-spattered green skull making Becca break out in gooseflesh.

“Hey.” He said, his voice husky as he spoke between pants. “Glad to see, everyone is, alright.” He took a deep breath and spoke in a more natural rhythm. “Hey boss, hope you don't mind my securing the exit. Figured you lot had the fight back there handled.” He stomped on the head of the dead ‘strummer, making a bit of brain that was still in there plop out. “This one was on his way to come up our tailpipe, figured it would be best to stop that happening.”

“Uhh,” Maine grunted, clearly not knowing how to handle the guy he’d just fired having taken up the rearguard all by himself and massacring the ‘strummers.

“Well done, Alex.” Dorio said like she hadn’t just written the guy off as a lost cause.

“Y-Yeah,” Maine said, recovering. “Good job Alex. You're a credit to this crew.”

“Wait!” Pilar whined, “I thought tha-”

Dorio cut him off with an elbow to the gut.

Geez, her gonk of a brother needed to learn to read the room.

=][=

“Here are the meds.” Alex said, plopping down a large bag filled with all the stuff Maine needed to stay regular. For one quarter the price it would usually cost him.

Adding Gloria’s kid to the crew was turning out to be the best decision he'd ever made! All the savings he was making on meds made sure he could be even stronger.

“And here's that list I promised you.” The Rook said, plopping down a shard. “They'll all play well together and will allow you to keep your current ‘ware loadout while cutting your neural load by at least half.”

And that was the downside to having an intern Ripper on the crew, he was always on about what he thought someone had to do with their ‘ware. Kiwi and Becca had spent a big load of their eddies making changes to their ‘ware and they swore by the kid. But they were not any stronger, and unlike them, Maine couldn’t afford to backtrack.

Maine had spent a good long time getting to the point he was at. And he needed to keep getting better, to keep his Edge now that he was stepping up into the big leagues.

“It'll be fine kid, I'm nowhere near my limit.” Maine said, brushing him off.

The kid shook his head. “Maine, this is no simple thing. The meds you’re taking? They’re heavy, very heavy. Royally fuck up your system heavy. If you start noticing your hands trembling, mood swings, or hot flashes; Let me know, those are symptoms for bad things and your meds and Cyberware will need to change to get you homeostatic again.”

Maine clenched his fists hard to make sure they wouldn’t tremble.

The rook continued, hopefully without noticing. He was annoyingly perceptive at the worst of times. “Now, this is worst case shit, but if you notice you have blackouts or gaps in your memory, you tell me immediately. Vik and I will clear our schedule, remove ‘ware to lessen your neural load, and we’ll figure out the better ratios and ‘ware while you detox. The rest of the crew will be able to handle some smaller jobs while we get you regular. Okay?”

Maine reminded himself that punching the fuck you got cheap meds from was, logically speaking, a bad idea. Where did the ‘ganic fuck get off telling him how much Chrome to chip in?

“I’m fine.” Maine said gruffly, taking his meds and turning his back on the kid. “You just make sure you're ready for the next job.”

Judging by the sound of it, the kid followed after him for a few steps before giving up and leaving.

Passing by a Buck-A-Slice, Maine put the dumbass Rook out of mind, grabbing a neuroblocker out of the bag along with a highly concentrated depressant and injected them both into his neck. He instantly felt his nerves settle, the trembling of his hands easing.

Maine made a note to see a different ripper, his usual guy clearly did shit work. Fucking up his nerve connections and making it more difficult to control his hands. 

His Ripper sent him a text, the adrenal booster and synaptic accelerator he’d ordered had arrived. It wasn't a Sandi, Gloria’s kid had taken that. Fucker probably couldn't handle that ‘ware, it should have been Maine’s.

He punched the wall, his metal fist sinking into the concrete as if it were stiff cardboard. Gloria’s fucking idiot kid, where’s he get off telling Maine what ‘ware to chip? He was weak, leaning on Maine’s milspec Sandevistan to cut it as an Edgerunner. So proud of his soft ‘ganic ass.

Maine wiped the sweat running down his face. The Weather Watchers™ had been off about the damn weather again. It was supposed to be a cool front coming today, but it was hot as balls.

Maine stumbled as he walked face first into his apartment door. He blinked and looked around, having to admit to himself that he was in his apartment building. In the hallway, in front of Dorio’s door.

Man, how badly had he zoned out that he hadn't even noticed when he got back home, maybe Dorio would get a kick out of hearing how he walked back home on autopilot.

He absently wiped the spots of blood on his fists on his pants as he stepped through the door.