Down On Your Luck

Monster Enthusiast · Jun 10, 2026

"Good Morning Night City! It's seven o'clock, and it's looking the rain has finally gone for good, and in its wake we're getting a whole week of clear blue sunny skies. And with midday temperatures in the high eighties to low nineties it's the perfect time to plan a trip to Pacifica for a day sunbathing on the beach and a dip in the ocean, or the Night City marina for relaxing day on the yacht. Now on to today's news, Mayor Ebunike is definitely feeling the heat today after —,"

Nicolas slapped the top of his alarm clock, silencing it before rolling back onto the bed. He stared straight ahead at the popcorn ceiling of his studio apartment, watching as the ceiling fan went around and around as the last vestiges of whatever dream he was having slipped from his mind. Eventually the call of nature became too much to ignore, and he peeled himself out of bed to start his morning routine.

Spitting out the last of his toothpaste Nick took the opportunity to look himself over in the mirror. Neck length, slightly curly, dirty blond hair still wet from the shower clung to his neck — I'll need to get that cut soon. Arasaka cyberoptics set to a natural blue, while they weren't Kiroshis they still had the low light, anti dazzle, teleoptic, and image enhancement modules he wanted and at half the price. Pale skin marred by small faded scars he'd accumulated over the years covered his tall athletic frame.

One scar in particular stood out, an aggressively red bullet wound on his upper thigh, just below the hip.

He couldn't help but run his finger along the scar as his mind wandered. They had said he was lucky, it was a through-and-through wound, low residual trauma, no shrapnel or debris. If only the others had been so luck—

No, don't think about them, it won't change anything.

In the end all he needed was a pair of stitches and some painkillers before they pushed him out the door. That didn't make the bill any smaller though. Nearly two thousand eurodollars for a nurse to run a scanner over his shoulder, staple his wound together, give him a blood transfusion, and slap a couple of pills into his hand.

That bill had wiped out most of his savings, If that was all he could have dealt with it, but his fixer had stopped answering his phone. Nick didn't know if he'd sold them out, if he'd been taken, or if he'd realised the job was fucked and had cut his losses but whatever the reason his fixer had fallen of the face of the earth.

If there was one thing all edgerunners had in common it was that they love to gossip as much as school girls, and being the sole survivor of a job gone wrong, with minimal injuries, and with the fixer disappearing? Their imaginations ran wild, and they'd even given him nickname.

"Look, that guy over there? That's Lucky, they say he got his whole team flatlined on a job. Walked away without a scratch.", "Hey, Lucky, how much did Biotechnica payout for flipping on your team?", "Oy, Lucky, Did you 'donate' your techie to the body bank yet? She had a piece of chrome im after."

Nick splashed his face with water, shocking his mind from the spiralling ruminations, and started getting dressed.

With no team, no fixer, and a shattered rep Nick had been relegated to whatever no risk no reward gopher random fixers were willing to throw him. Courier jobs, low risk guard work, acting as a middle man for deals, work usually given to rookies, they were all well below his level of experience, and the pay reflected that.

And judging by the stack of letters on his kitchen counter, it wasn't going to be enough.

Now dressed in a plain black T-shirt and surplus fatigue pants Nick moved to the small couch and coffee table in the centre of his apartment and begun the next part of his morning routine, weapon maintenance.

Nick garbed the Arasaka Minami 10 submachine gun that had been left on the table and started stripping it, popping out bolts, undoing screws and field stripping the gun.

The Minami had served him well for most of his career, but recent events had shown that he needed something heaver. If he had the money he'd swap it out for something like a Sternmyer SMG-21, or maybe he'd shell out for an assault rifle, maybe a Militech Ronin, something capable of piercing armour.

Gun parts now cleaned and lubricated, Nick started reassembling the gun, replacing the trigger assembly, reinserting the recoil springs, rehousing the bolt. With the gun reassembled he moved on to the magazines, making sure each of them was fully loaded with caseless ten millimetre rounds.

Weapon maintenance complete, Nick leaned back in the couch and wiped the grease off his hands with a rag. Hands now clean-ish he got up and garbed the shoulder holster that was hanging off the coat hook by the door, next to his leather jacket, and started strapping It on. Holstering the Minimai under his left armpit and the loaded mags under his right Nick was finally able to address the hunger pangs that were steadily growing.

Opening the Cupboard Nick retrieved the half empty box of kibble that had been last nights dinner. He poured himself a bowl, the dry compressed cubes clinking as they hit the plastic bowl. It said "Pizza Flavoured" on the box, but the only way the flavour could be compared to pizza was if you counted the greasy cardboard box it comes in as part of the pizza. But compared to the other flavours on offer the pizza ones stood out, being merely unpalatable rather than revolting.

Of the few luxuries Nick had once enjoyed when the going was good, it's the food he missed the most. He'd never made enough to afford fresh food, but he could regularly afford to get the good prepacks, the ones comparable to something cooked restaurant that contained real — if not necessarily fresh — ingredients, and sometimes he'd splurge and visit an actual restaurant. Curry's, sushi's, noodles, roasts, and all the different kinds of snacks and desserts, every time they'd finish a job he'd be exited, not just because of the money but because it was a new opportunity to try new meals.

He remembered the few times they'd scored particularly profitable jobs, Nick would convince them to splurge on a group feast and hit up a buffet. Harry would always complain, calling it a waste of money, and Alice—

Nick slammed the spoon down in his bowl of kibble, launching a few pellets which clinked on the counter-top and tiled floor. He rubbed hard at his eyes which had started stinging as tears started welling up, and breathed heavily and deeply as he fought to get his breathing under control. Regaining control of his breathing nick looked down at the half empty bowl of "food".

Fuck this, I need to get out of here, get some air.

Abandoning his half-eaten bowl of kibble, he grabbed the jacket that was hanging by the door and roughly pulled it on. With a mix of grief and anger he stormed out of the apartment — just barely refraining from slamming the door behind him — with no particular destination in mind.

The hallway was lined with stained peeling wallpaper between the doors to other apartments. As he walked past the doors Nick was able to hear the sounds of his neighbours lives through the thin doors. A mother arguing with her son about going to school, a TV blaring commercials, Someone strumming riffs on a guitar, a man screaming obscenities and complaining about some kind of service between long pauses — hopefully he's on the phone and not screaming in someone's face.

The elevator was still out of service doors stuck open and hanging off whatever track they usually ran on. Not surprising, it'd been out of action since he'd moved here and given the state of the rest of the building, it'd probably stay that way until well after he moved out. Nick had overheard the story from some other older tenants.

One day one of the tenants comes in with a new set of cyber arms, proud and showing off to anyone that he came across, telling every one how much it'll help his job down at the docks. Overnight day the guy snaps and goes cyberpsycho, rips his door off the hinges screaming about how he "needs to get out". The guy runs to the elevator rips the doors open and turns the unfortunate schmuck using it into mince meat. From there the story changes depending on who's telling it, some said he got hunted down by MaxTac, others say he ran out in to the city never to be seen again.

Whatever the psycho's fate, the elevator remained nonfunctional, and the landlord was in no hurry to fix it.

Descending the staircase that wrapped around the elevator shaft and stepping around a pair of kids sitting on the steps playing with a cyberdeck he reached the lobby. Giving a small nod toward one of the tenants checking his mailbox Nick pushed open the front door and stepped out onto the streets of South Night City.

The sights, sounds, and smell of the city were beyond familiar to Nick, he'd lived here all his life and like old wallpaper it all just blended into the background. But below the humming of car engines and passing conversations he could just make out the distinct staccato of gunfire.

Hmm, couldn't be more than four blocks away. Combat Zone's getting closer again.

The Combat Zone, Night City's own festering wound slash active war zone, with gangs of all kinds fighting each other over territory and resources. And god help you if you find yourself stuck in the middle of it, because the NCPD sure as shit wouldn't set foot in there to help you.

The Zone had a habit of growing as it chewed up its inhabitants and new ones moved in. The buildings long the edge would occasionally catch some bullets or a grenade from a fight spilling over, and the people with the means to do so would leave. Then it would catch a few more bullets, maybe a rocket, and people would exhaust their credit, take out a loan, move in with family, anything to get out, and gangers would start moving in. Then a NCPD rep would call the few reaming people living or working in the building and politely inform them that the NCPD would no longer be servicing their area, and the few people left would pack whatever they could carry and set off into the street, leaving only the gangers.

And the Combat zone would grow a block bigger.

That was the gamble with living on the edge of the CZ. You get the best value for money on rent in the city, but one morning you could wake up with a boostergang as your new landlord, and they don't do late notices.

When Nick first moved into his apartment the CZ had been six blocks away, close enough for the rent to be low and far enough for the risk of some Dorph-fiend throwing a grenade through your window to be minimal. Over the years the closest the CZ had come to his apartment was one block away, when that happened he'd decided to crash with one of his teammates until it shrunk back.

He didn't have that option anymore.

Thankfully, a guardian gang had formed, a group of vigilantes and "concerned citizens" that was able to push the encroaching gang back a couple of blocks, saving him from having to find a new rental.

Over the course of his reminiscing Nick had wandered in front of a restaurant occupying the lower floors of an apartment building. It was Greek, going by the stylised white and blue sign, and the smell was amazing, and reminded him that he'd only had half his breakfast.

Fishing out his wallet he considered the single twenty eurodollar bill that Nick had to his name, and tried to remember the last time he'd eaten something that wasn't kibble or bought from a vending machine.

Screw it, why not.

Twenty minutes later Nick was sat on a bench in a small park, licking the sauce and grease from his wrap off his fingers while watching people pass by. Although calling it a park was being extremely charitable. He'd been to the Lake Park, in the city centre, and that was areal park, large and well tended. The park nick was in now was basically a lot of patchy overgrown grass someone had decided to slap a bench in the middle and wrap with a metal fence. And he didn't know much about trees, but he was pretty sure the park's lone tree shouldn't be bare of leaves in the middle of summer.

Despite the parks lack of quality it still had plenty of traffic. Along the pavement running through the park a stream of people moved up and down, using the park as a shortcut between the two streets the park bordered. Most wore generic chic, Tees, jeans, sometimes a light jacket, but in the sea of people a few stood out. A couple of gangers wearing urban flash, tech jackets embedded with LEDs and shiny eye-catching clothes, some even sported light tattoos. They chatted amongst themselves and passing something between them, probably drugs. A brave — or stupid — corpo wearing some upmarket business wear with a suitcase in one hand and holding his phone to his head with his other and talking loudly, uncaring of the other people around him, even the ones eyeing him the same way a dog eyes a piece of meat.

There was even a poser walking around dressed as a solo, black leather combat boots, camo pants peeking out from under a long leather coat, and a pair of opaque black shades. And he was a poser, you didn't spend years as a solo without having the awareness to notice small details, it was the difference between spotting an ambush or a tripwire before you tripped over them instead of after.

And Nick's discerning eye could tell the man he was looking at was no solo. The coat looked too thin to be armoured and pulled too tight to the body for there to be a vest underneath. The boots were imitation, with a zipper on the side that real combat boots wouldn't have, and they were brand new, not scuffed or worn.

He did have a gun, the protrusion at his hip which his coat draped over gave it away. But judging by the size it couldn't be more than a pocket pistol, maybe a BudgetArms C-13, or a Federated Arms X-22.

The poser walked past him, not even looking at him as he made his way through the park.

Nick leaned back on the bench, sighing. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket down and looked at his wrist, The Skinwatch glowed faintly under his skin showing it was getting close to half past seven. Next to the Skinwatch was his Biomonitor aside from a slightly elevated heart rate everything looked good.

Looks like it's going to be another day of begging for scraps. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and join a corp. Becoming another faceless corporate soldier would mean giving up my freedom, and furthering the interests of whatever fat corpo bastard that gets command over me. But it has to be better than living out of a coffin and doing grunt work for the rest of my life, one failed job away from ending up on the street.

Nick cupped his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm — an old habit that refused to die, even after getting cyberoptics — and started trying to psych himself up for the day ahead. As he was about to get up form the bench when he felt something he rarely felt these days, a vibration emanating from his jacket pocket.

His phone was ringing.

Since he'd lost his team phone calls had been few and far between, most services preferred to contact him through letter, and most edgerunners had the wherewithal to tell him to his face they wanted nothing to do with him.

He flipped the phone open and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was unmistakable. Adeola Okonkwo, a small time fixer and one of the more consistent sources of jobs over the last few months. He spoke with a thick west African accent, "th"s became "d"s, "er"s became "ah"s, "ing"s lost their "g"s, and "r"s may as well not have existed.

"Lucky, my friend, you are still looking for a team, yeah?"

That made Nick sit a little straighter. A little flickering ember of hope siring in his chest causing him to overlook Adeola using his nickname, even though he'd told him more than once not to.

"Yeah im still looking. Why, do you know a team needing a solo?"

"No my friend, I've got something better. I'm putting to together a team of my own, for a job that dropped into my lap. And I mean a real job, with real pay, not the Agbero work I got you doing before…"

Nick was standing now.

This could be it, this could get me back on the horse, rebuild my rep, start over with a new team.

"… Anyway, I'm getting everyone together tonight at Club Synapse. We'll go over the details then, save me from telling them more than once. You in?"

I can't afford to miss an opportunity like this.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

Author's note:
Thank you for reading!
I've been reading books and fan-fiction most of my life and I've always considered trying my hand at writing my own, but for whatever reason I've never committed to doing so, until now.
This is the first piece of fiction I've ever written, I'm hoping to release a chapter every week so i would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have.

Monster Enthusiast · Jun 10, 2026

Nick had been antsy all day. The prospect of finally getting a real job had left him with a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling around his gut as he tried to find ways to pass the hours until the meeting.

He'd gone over every piece of his kit, in part as preparation for the job but mostly as away to kill time. He checked his flak vest for wear and tear, he striped his gun down to the bolts and oiled every part, he thumbed through the contents of his first aid kit making sure none of the components had expired.

And after all that, he hadn't even passed an hour.

After what felt like a lifetime of nervous pacing, Half-heartedly watching TV, and impatient clock watching it was finally time to meet with Adeola. A train ride on the Night City Rapid Area Transit into central night city and a short walk to the Upper Eastside found Nick standing in line under the bright glow of Club Synapse's neon signage.

He'd been to the club a few times before — it was Ade's preferred meeting place— but it wasn't the kind of place he'd patronise in his free time. Not that he frequented any club in his free time, the dancing, deafening music, and overpriced alcohol didn't appeal to him.

Clubs were more Alice's thing anyway.

The line had shrunk. Nick could practically feel the thumping of music through the concrete walls and metal doors as the bouncer gave him a once over, eyeing him up and down, before jerking a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing him inside.

Pushing through the doors a wave of sound hit him like a punch to the ear, harsh electronic music drowned out all other sounds. It sounded like the artist had sampled some rhythmic groaning industrial sound, overlaid with a thumping baseline and warbling synth and cranked the volume to eleven. Every synth peak and base kick was like getting hit by a Nauseator, it made him wince to the beat and regret not chipping some cyberaudio and level dampers when he had the chance.

A lowered dance floor dominated the centre of the ground floor the floor, it was warped with a line of standing tables and a railing separating the tables from the dancers. Small groups and couples leaned against the tables and railing usually with a drink in had as they chatted with each other and rested between rounds on the dancefloor. The dance floor was full to capacity with dancing patrons dressed in clothes that were equally trendy as they were scanty. A stage ran against the far wall, hosting most of the lights and lasers which pulsed and swayed with the beat of the music, as well as the DJ working his equipment. Occasionally the DJ would lean down and interact with some of the closest dancers who were vying for his attention.

The wall opposite the stage hosted a bar serving out drinks to the thirsty dancers. A pair of bartenders efficiently served their clientele, even as one of the patrons futilely tried to chat up one of the female bartenders. next to the bar a bouncer stood menacingly next to a staircase cordoned off wit ha red velvet rope. Occasionally a server would duck behind the bar before emerging with a bottle and acceding the staircase and up to the VIP area after being let in by the bouncer.

Nick walked over to the staircase stoping before the bouncer.

"I'm here to see Adeola, he's expecting me."

The bouncer nodded and unhooked the velvet rope and Nick scaled the steps. The pounding music mercifully dimmed slightly as he reached the upper level, whatever speaker arrangement they had on the first floor no longer blasting him directly. The VIP was much like the area that wrapped around the dance floor, a 'U' shaped walkway running along the wall allowing people to lean over and watch the dancers below. Instead of standing tables below the wall was lined with cushioned, private booths, one of which Nick could see Ade sitting in with his arms stretched along the top of the booth's seat.

Squeezing past a couple leaning on the railing and weaving past a server he walked up to the booth, Adeola turned his head at Nick's approach and grinned, his stark white teeth contrasting heavily with his obsidian black skin. He wore a black business suit with a white dress shirt poking out of his sleeves and between his lapels. Shoulder-length straight black hair spilled over the shoulders of his suit, it held back from covering his face by a pair of yellow tinted aviator glasses, the only piece of colour on the man.

If it wasn't for his accent it'd be easy to think he was a born and bred Night City corpo.

"Lucky, my friend! Abeg, sit, sit. The others are still on their way."

Nick slid into the seat across form Ade.

"I've told you before not to call me that."

"Why not? It's a good nickname. You should hear some of the things other edgerunners have been stuck with." he pointed at nick with a finger, hand still resting on the booth, "I bet you they would kill to get a nickname as good as yours."

Nick crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat.

"If they want it they can have it. I'd be much happier going through life without being reminded of my greatest fuckup."

Ade scoffed, waving with one of his hands.

"Bah, you care too much what those aproko say. And so what if you fuck up a job? It's not like they are perfect either, ey? Ah, but where are my manners, do you want something to drink?"

Unconsciously, Nick became aware of the inside of his mouth, maybe he had become unused to conversation but whatever the reason his mouth was particularly dry.

"It matters when those 'aproko' are the ones deciding if I get to work or not. And yeah, just a water."

Ade leaned out of the booth and whistled for a server while snapping his fingers. Nick fought back a grimace. If Ade's dress was just a facsimile of a corpo then his personality was the genuine article. He dealt in anything that could make him money. Drugs, guns, data, if you were willing to pay for it, Ade would charge you a twenty percent markup, hire someone else to take the risk getting it and pocket the remaining. He was rude to anyone who he thought owed him, and that extended from business partners to waiters and servers. But if he owed you, or you had something he wanted? It was all Hand shakes, pats on the back, and "my friends."

It was easy to tell that the guy had an ego, and considered himself above everyone else. But Nick wasn't about to risk a source of work by telling him that.

The server walked off with their order and Ade returned position stretched across the booth.

"Eh, if they don't want you than it is their loss. We," he waved a finger between himself and Nick, "will make big money, so much those other runners kick themselves for not taking a chance on you."

God, I hope so.

Before either of them could continue the conversation a man appeared at the mouth of the booth.

"Excuse me, Mr Okonkwo?"

Nick turned to look at the man. He was Asian, young blemish free skin, a bit below average height, wearing a collared T-shirt and slacks — designer, if the logos strategically placed on the clothes was anything to go by —, and had a set of short, neatly styled tech hair currently softly glowing blue.

Ade Grinned.

"Ah Mister Shen, come in, come in, Nicolas make room… "

Nick scooted further down the booth as Ade waved him across, and Wei slid into the spot he had been sitting before.

"… Wei, this is Nicolas Mckenzie, my favourite solo. Nick, this Is Wei Shen. He is a techie who has worked for me in the past. And now he will be working with you."

Nick leaned over and extended a hand.

"Nice to meet you."

Wei reciprocated with a neutral expression.

"Likewise."

Letting go of the handshake Nick leaned back. "It's always good to have a techie on the team.What kind of jobs do you usually run?"

Wei rested his hands on the table with fingers interlocked. "I possess a comprehensive technical understanding and specialise in producing bespoke tactical equipment. I've successfully delivered numerous pieces of equipment meeting the complex and varied operational needs of edgerunner teams."

Nick raised an eyebrow, caught of guard by how corporate Wei sounded, and had to take a moment to parse the corpo-speak. "… yeah, your good with tech, I'd figure most techies are. But I meant jobs as in what kind of field work you've done. B&E's, surveillance, heists, that kind of thing."

The expression on Wei's face didn't change, but he did adjust his position on the seat. "This is the first contract I've taken which has required my skills in a hands-on capacity."

Excuse me?

Nick couldn't help the incredulous expression that overtook him. He shot a look at Ade who didn't look at all surprised at the revelation.

Nick looked back at Wei, who hadn't moved and inch.

"You've never been in the field before, seriously?"

Wei nodded.

"Correct."

Nick leaned forward.

"Do you even have a gun? Or armour? Have you ever been shot at before?"

"I'm adequately equipped with —

"Could you drop the corpo-speak?" Nick interrupted. "This isn't an intervew for a position at Arasaka."

Wei closed his eyes and took a deep inhale before opening his eyes again.

"Yes, I have a gun and armour and know how to use them. No, ive not been shot at before. I'm aware of the danger of this line of work, and im prepared to face it."

"If you've never even been shot at before then you have no idea what It's like on a job. You're going to freeze up at the first brush with death, and you're teammates are going to pay the price."

Ade cut in before Wei could respond.

"Nick, quit trying to scare away your teammate. I am confident that Wei —"

A server appeared at the mouth of the booth, placing a glass of whiskey in front of Ade and a large pitcher of water with a few empty glasses in the centre of the table. Nick gave a small thank you to the server and filled a glass for himself, while Ade continued talking.

"— is more than capable of participating in our line of work. Besides, if all goes well there won't be any bullets flying on this job."

Nick finished his glass and turned to Ade.

"Are you finally going to tell me what the job actually is?"

Ade took a sip of his drink.

"Nah, we're still waiting on our last member."

"Wh— You want to run a job with just three people? With one of them being a rookie, still wet behind the ears? What are we doing, walking old ladies across the street? Why —"

"Shit, Sorry im late, I got a bit lost."

Nick, diatribe disrupted, looked to the interrupting woman who was already sliding into the booth, pushing Wei shoulder to shoulder with Nick.

She had Short messy brunette hair and Bronze skin covered in freckles with an "A+" tattoed above her right eye. She was about an inch taller than Wei, at least while they were sitting. She was dressed in a red leather motorcycle jacket — which she was in the process of shucking, revealing a white singlet underneath —, dessert camo pants, with worn and scuffed leather boots. The most striking part of her though, was revealed as she freed her arms from the jacket. Her Right arm was a cyberarm, Embedded at the shoulder, dark faintly green cords of myomar wound under and around metal plates, down to the fingertips. White plastic plates covered large sections of the arm and the back of the hand, doing little to hide the bare metal underneath.

As she made herself comfortable in the seat, Ade introduced us.

"Ah, Miss Cruz, Glad you could make it. Nick, Wei this is Camilla Cruz, Camilla these are Nick Mckenzie and Wei Shen."

She shook hands with Wei, then extended a hand to Nick which he took.

"Please tell me you've been in combat before, or you know how to use a gun at least."

Camilla looked at him oddly.

"Of course I have, hard to live as a nomad without getting into a couple of shootouts."

Nick let out a breath as they broke the handshake.

"So you're skilled?"

Camilla smirked smugly as she leaned back into the seat.

"I like to think so. I spent most of my time with the family as a scout, riding ahead making sure routs were clear, holding overwatches, that kind of thing. I'm a pretty decent shot, and im a beast behind the wheel."

Wei chimed in.

"What family are you from?"

"The Soldiers."

"Never heard of them."

Camilla looked put out by that. She was about to reply when Ade clapped his hands together.

"Now that we are all introduced, I can share the details of your job."

Finally.

They all focused on Ade.

"The client has info on a shipment of chrome which is due to pass through Night City, and they want a piece. They've provided the rout the shipment is taking down to which container the chrome is in and lucky for us it will be vulnerable for a brief window after it lands in the city. All you have to do go and pick it up, easy money."

They were silent as they digested the information, but one thought ran through Nick's mind.

Nothing's ever that easy, if it was, they wouldn't bother hiring us. There has to be a catch.

"This 'vulnerability', what is it?"

Ade smirked.

"The chrome is arriving by ship, a whole container full. Our client has arranged a netrunner to drop the containers shipping priority to the bottom of their list, meaning the container will be siting in the San Morro Bay Port for days, defended only by the port's security."

Ah, there it is.

"I'm out."

For the first time this meeting Ade had and expressions besides happy or smug, he looked surprised and confused at Nick as he started shimmying over Wei, trying to get out of the booth.

"What? A couple of rent-a-guards got the big bad solo shaking?"

Nick shot Ade a hard look, pausing between Wei and Camilla.

"The guards aren't the problem, It's the Harbour Police. You know, the only cops in this city that give a shit about doing their job, the borderline combat gang with government backing. If we get caught out they'll drop on us like a ton of bricks. If I wanted to get flatlined by trigger-happy lawmen I'd— "

"Twenty-five hundred eddies… "

Nick paused, and Ade's smirk returned.

"… Each. That's how much you'll get for this job, not counting any other pieces of chrome you lift from the container. Now sit back down Nick and stop being such a worrier."

Nick contemplated walking away anyway. His misgiving about messing with the harbour police hadn't gone away, and doing so with a team of three, one being fresh off the tit, only made it worse. But could he afford to pass this up?

Twenty-five hundred would easily clear up all the payments ive missed with enough left over for most of the month. Not to mention the future jobs pulling off something like this would net me. Damn it, I can't afford to pass on this.

Nick sat back down between Camilla and Wei, and Ade's smirk grew wider, he knew he had them.

"Now, the shipment is due to arrive in two days in a container marked 'RM-9413' aboard the cargo ship 'Zhuigan', so there should be plenty of time to recon the port and put a plan together. Our client's netrunner can only guarantee that their meddling will keep the container for another two days. I'll leave the details of whatever plan you come up with up to you. Once you have picked up the chrome you'll bring it to the Stallion Slough Shipyard where one of my men will let you onto the dock where we will make the handover. Any Questions?"

Wei rased a hand getting Ade's attention.

"Can we expect this netrunner to provide any other assistance?"

"No. The client isn't willing to lend their netrunner for any further support."

Camilla cut in.

"What kind of cyberware are we stealing?"

"The client didn't say."

"So what if there's more than one kind in the container?"

"Take one of each, whatever the client doesn't want you can keep. I'll even help find a buyer for a small cut."

The frown on Nick's face grew with every question.

"This client really cagey, Huh?"

Nick couldn't see it through his glasses, but he was sure Ade was rolling his eyes

"That's not a question Nick. And with what they are paying they can have their privacy. Anything else?"

When no one raised another question Ade went back to his neglected drink and waved them away.

"Good, you've got a lot of work ahead of you so commot for hia."

Nick, Wei, and Camilla shuffled out of the booth while Ade remained behind. A jaunt through the tinnitus inducing music of the ground floor and the three were outside, after exchanging numbers and planing to meet near the docks early tomorrow for some reconnaissance they went their separate ways. Camilla sped off on a Heavily modified Motorbike covered in hard containers, while Wei followed Nick to the NCART station and took a train headed the opposite direction as nick further into the city while Nick travelled back to South Night City.

As Nick rode the NCART, squeezed between half-awake corpos and street kids loudly conversing, he couldn't help the sense of impending doom slowly forming in his gut.

Monster Enthusiast · Jun 10, 2026

They were gathered around a round table draped in a thin plastic sheet with red and white checkering, the kind you see people setting up for picnics in movies and advertisements. The worn plastic chairs wobbled with the slightest movement and the shade cloth overhead did little to mitigate the Californian heat.

Harry, with moustache, beer belly, and combover on full display now that he was out of his police uniform or combat armour. Alice, camera still mounted on her shoulder, dressed in clothes that were composed mostly of straps, the party girl having a different concept of casual wear than the others at the table. Herman, their newest member, stoic as ever and built like a brick shit-house dressed in the same Long leather trench coat he wore during their missions. Even Rei, face mostly covered by her messy long black hair, leisure ware hanging off her uncomfortably thin frame, had manged overcome her agoraphobia to join them, although she was still fiddling with her braindance wreath.

A delectable scent was carried on the wind, a mix of spices and seasonings that made the mouth water and stomach growl, but for the life of him Nick couldn't discern the exact food that was being cooked.

They were all discussing their upcoming job, knocking over a biotechnica convoy.

Harry leaned back as he finished rebutting a question asked by Alice, his chair groaning in response

"— and I told you before, the highways are jurisdiction of the NorCal Highway Rangers. I couldn't get a road block or detour on one of them even if I was the chief. Best I can do is borrowing some spike strips, But that doesn't address the real problem."

Herman grunted, german accent clinging to each word.

"Alice, don't you have a source in Biotechnica? Could they re-rout the shipment?"

Before Alice could reply, Harry chuffed.

"Sources? Please, they're just club rats telling her what she wants to hear so they can get in her pants."

Alice slapped the able and pointed at Harry, barely restraining herself from standing up and knocking over her chair

"Fuck you, you fat pig, I'll have you know they are legitimate sources and once I find Biotechnica's skeleton closet im going to blow it wide open."

She sat back in her chair, arms crossed defensively over her chest.

"But no, Herman. I don't have anyone in their logistics division. Yet."

Silence descended over the table as each of the people sat around it turned the conundrum over in their head. The problem was that the convoy was only passing through Night City. Sticking only to the highways which ran through corporate suburbs like Heywood and North Oak. If they tried to make move on the highway it would be a coin flip if the corporate security employed in the surrounding neighbourhood would decide to help out and crash their job. Not to mention a response from Biotechnicas regional office in the city.

"W-what if we ambushed them outside the city, out in the badlands."

Everyone looked surprised at Rei's suggestion, normally it was difficult to get out of her apartment, even if they let the medtech stay in the car while the rest of the team did the job. Hearing her suggest leaving the city entirely was unheard of.

Harry rubbed his chin.

"Hmm, it would definitely lower the risk of party crashers. And with the spike strips we'd have a good shot at disabling the truck. There's not a lot of cover out there though, if the truck has escorts we could end up in a rough position. What do you think, Nick?"

Everyone turned to Nick, his calm and cautious demeanour and made him the natural choice as leader when he, Harry, and Alice had joined up to start taking on jobs.

He was about to reply, when a low whining noise cut through the air.

As the noise grew and grew, wind was kicking with it, the plastic table covering flapping wildly and the shade cloth over head loudly yanking at the chains holding it to the restaurant.

The wind and noise grew and the others around the table gave no reaction, it was like they were frozen in time, still staring at him. He had no idea what was happening, Nick's heart started beating quicker as his teammates stared ahead at nick still waiting for a reply he was unable to give, as the wind and noise became deafening.

The wind grew so strong it ripped the shade cloth from its mooring, and revealed the source of the sound and wind.

It was the downwash of an AV.

Black, almost pill shaped with four thrust vectoring nozzles poking out of the side of its belly, the silhouette of the pilots visible through the polarised glass of the cockpit.

And under that cockpit hung a turret mounted twenty millimetre Gatling gun.

The fear that had gripped Nick turned to terror. He tried to get up, tried to scream, but his body below the neck refused to obey and no matter how hard he tried to scream no noise came out, he was stuck. The AV activated a searchlight, its black pill shaped fuselage was hidden behind a blinding light which cast his still frozen teammates in shadow.

Nick tried again, to move, to scream, to call out to the silhouettes his still teammates and warn them or get them to move, to do anything. But his body was as still as his teammates.

He heard the Gatling gun stat to spin, and —

Nick let out a scream, which reduced to a laboured breathing as he realised he was sitting upright in his bed, and not about to be turned into hamburger meat by an AV. He slumped forward as the adrenaline fled him, on his arm he could see the spike in heart rate on his biomoniter's readout whish was slowly returning to baseline. Looking at his Skinwatch he saw the time wasn't even six, a glance over at the alarm clock confirmed it. Above him, he could hear the sound of his upstairs neighbour running a vacuum.

Asshole, what kind of psycho vacuums this early in the morning.

The prospect of getting back to sleep seemed unlikely with the noise emanating through the floor boards. Nick pulled himself out of bed and began his morning routine, getting ready for the day and dressing in another set of camos and his usual leather jacket. After killing a couple of hours in front of the TV trying to follow some serial drama that that was mid-season, he called Wei and Camilla and arranged a meeting to discuss their next steps.

■

Nick leaned on the Data Term opposite the front of a small diner on the edge of the light industrial sprawl that surrounded the port. He watched as cars and trucks of all different shapes and sizes passed the intersection, all the rumbling engines, squealing breaks, and honking horns blending into the usual cacophony of city life. If he had the money to spare he'd be inside enjoying a meal while waiting the rest of his new team to show, instead he'd have to watch his ten eddies carefully if he wanted to be able to take the NCART back home. So he waited outside with this morning's kibble sitting heavy in his stomach.

Nick checked his Skinwatch again, nearly seven-thirty, they should be here any minute now. Nick turned his head, looking down the street and, speak of the devil, there was Wei, with his bright blue hair and dressed in track pants and a compression top, walking down the street.

As he approached Nick pushed off the Data Term and waved to Wei, who waved back.

"Morning Wei, We're still waiting on Camilla. Once she gets here we'll go over the plan for reconning the port."

Wei nodded.

"Do you believe we'll have much trouble with the recon?, I can't imagine they'll just let us stand across the street, watching as the guards go about their patrols."

Nick waved of his concern as they took a sat at one of the diners outdoor tables.

"I doubt we'll get into any gunfights today, if that's what you're worried about. I would have told you over the phone if that was the case. And we won't be just sitting across the street from the port. We want somewhere with elevation so we can get the best vantage point, and far enough away they don't notice us and call the Harbour Police. Also, have you had breakfast yet?"

Wei cocked an eyebrow at that.

"Yes, why?"

"Because they'll probably kick us out of here if we don't order something."

"Why don't you order something?"

"Because im broke."

Wei huffed, and walked into the establishment. Nick checked his Skinwatch again, seven thirty-four. As he was looking at his watch he heard the rumble of a motorcycle. Looking over his shoulder he saw Camilla pulling up on her bike dressed in the same leathers as yesterday, she stopped at the intersection and her helmeted head looked around.

Nick waved, and her helmet locked on to him. She walked the motorcycle onto the sidewalk and kicked down the kickstand. She dismounted the bike and hung her helmet off one of the handle bars.

"Sorry im late, im still getting used to the city and the Data Terms are useless."

Nick shrugged his shoulders.

"It's fine, Wei's inside getting something, once he's done well go over the plan for today. Also, mind if I bum an eddie?"

Camilla acquiesced, and with eurodollar in had, Nick walked back to the Data Term. He thumbed through the clunky interface to the map section and with the eddie deposited the Data Term clunked and whirred as it printed out a sheet of paper with a map of the port and its surrounds.

Returning to the table, Nick saw Wei had returned and was now sipping at a can of energy drink. He slapped the map down on the table as he retook his seat.

"Alright, heres the deal. We need to accomplish two objectives with our reconnaissance. One, we need to get a lay of the land, guard rotations, the layout of the containers, entries and egresses, that sort of thing. And two, once we've got the skeleton of a plan we need to work out an around the clock surveillance so we can catch the ship as it enters port. And once it does, we'll want all eyes on to catch where they end up putting our container."

Nick paused giving a chance for questions, when none materialised he continued.

"First things first, we need to find a good vantage point. It needs to be somewhere high enough for a good view of the port and where they unload the containers, but it also needs to be private enough that we can come and go without risking getting caught by security or getting the NCPD called on us by bystanders."

Nick pushed the paper map into the centre of the table.

"So, let's get to work."

Over the next half an hour or so the team whittled down the buildings against a number of criteria. The recon location needed to be tall, so they could get a good vantage point, it needed to be far enough from the port to avoid scrutiny. And it needed to be free of traffic or with occupants who wouldn't mind them squatting on top of it.

With a shortlist devised, they decided to spit up to check the places, Nick and Wei, being on foot would check the closer locations, and Camilla with her motorcycle would check the locations further out. Their objectives decided they split up, Camilla remounting her bike and joining the traffic, while Nick and Wei set off into the streets.

The first location, a multi-storey office building, was a bust. Too busy, workers coming and going frequently from the ground floor lobby, and with no external access to the roof every time they would have pass the front desk and workers every time they rotated the person doing the surveillance.

The second building was also no good, an old, supposedly abandoned, industrial building with attached smoke stack. The plan had been to post up on one of the cat walks wrapping around the smoke stack. That plan was foiled by the very obviously still operational security systems surrounding the building.

The pattern continued for the next few locations they checked, each one having some quirk or quality that precluded them from being chosen.

They were on the way to their next potential location when Nicks phone rang. He flipped it open and saw it was Camilla's number, he held it to his head and blocked out the sounds of the street with his other hand.

"What's up Camilla?"

"Nick, I think I've found a winner. Meet me on the intersection of 38th and Wayland."

Nick face scrunched in confusion earning a raised eyebrow from Wei.

"I don't remember any suitable buildings in that area."

"I know, I know, but trust me nick this place is perfect, you'll see when you get here."

Camilla hung up the call. Another twenty minutes of walking along the crowded streets they reached the intersection. Their position was just on the edge of the light industry ringing the port, the warehouses, and logistics hubs starting to give way to more residential focused businesses. An elevated part of the interstate highway loomed overhead casting the street in shadow. As they rounded the corner of street they found Camilla leaning against the wall of a convenience store.

Nick looked around, but he couldn't see any building that would match their criteria. The surrounding buildings were all squat, two storeys at most, and were business that saw frequent traffic, like convenience stores and laundromats. Camilla pushed off the wall and waved them over.

"Camilla, I don't see your 'perfect' spot."

Camilla rolled her eyes

"Well if you'd hold your horses I'd have had a chance to show it to you. Now follow me."

Camilla a led them over to the chain link fence adjacent to the convenience store. She lifted a loose section of the fence, scurried under, and held it open for nick and Wei who followed after her.

They followed Camilla further, down an alley running parallel to the street they had entered from. The alley was interspersed with supports for the highway running overhead. Camilla eventually led them to a tall metal pylon adjacent to the highway. The pylon was surrounded by another chain link fence, Camilla's bike rested against the fence and a broken padlock lay on the ground in front of the chain link fence's gate.

Nick looked up following the pylon, up and up. And at the top of the pylon, half peeking out above the highway an advertisement was playing over a massive electronic billboard.

Camilla turned to face them as they reached the pylon. She stuck out her hands gesturing at the pylon.

"Ta-da! Come on let me show you around."

Camilla ducked behind the pylon, Nick and Wei followed and found her already ascending the ladder leading up to the billboard. When Nick and Wei reached the top they looked. The "walls" were covered in wires running from the panels forming the billboard and running over the grated floor and down the pylon. While nick and Wei were looking around Camilla had launched in to an explanation on the benefits of the location.

"Obviously there no security or traffic for the billboard, and because it exits into the alley the only time we'd need to be careful about witnesses is when we duck into the alley. The ladder up here is opposite the direction of traffic on the highway so unless someone on the street decides to look up no one should see us coming and going. Since the billboard's electronic our techie here should be able to draw some power for a couple of creature comforts and If you cast your eyes over yonder you'll see that the gap in the boards points directly at the port."

Nick looked out the gap in the opening and activated his teleoptics and sure enough they had a nearly completely unobstructed view of the port.

Nick turned back to Camilla who was wearing a smug grin of self-satisfaction.

"So, pretty good, huh?"

Monster Enthusiast · Wednesday at 12:36 AM

The sun had started to set casting the sky in an orange hue, and the suns retreat the cool of the Californian night had started seeping in. Nick and Camilla were fine, their leather jackets providing ample warmth, Wei, however was starting to shiver in his track pants and compression top even as he huddled around the small space heater he'd spliced into the power cables.

They had been up here for hours now, getting straight to reconning the port after discovering the billboard. Occasionally one of them would run down to the convenience store to grab food or supplies, but aside from that, they had spent all their time watching the port. Nick sat at the edge of the space between the two boards and used the teleoptics module in his cyber eyes, while Camilla lay prone next to and used a pair binoglasses, which she shared with Wei.

And what they were seeing painted a grim picture.

The port was a massive stretch of concrete along the coast of the bay. Walled off with a tall chain link fence topped by a spool of razor wire, brightly lit with overhead lights, and interspersed with camera laden watchtowers that watched the strip empty strip of land between the port fence and adjacent road. The port hosted multiple berths and a myriad of cranes each moving back and forth over the berthed ships, Piles, and piles of containers occupied the terminal besides the cranes, and in between these piles wandered the port's security.

The guards themselves didn't look particularly dangerous, Nicks image enhancement module allowing him to pick out the details even this far away. They were only armed with pistols and flashlights with no armour over their grey uniforms, But the sheer number of them was concerning. There were at least a dozen guards patrolling around the yard, that they could see at least.

They couldn't see the whole yard, but from where they were looking it seemed like there were as many guards as there were dockworkers.

Camilla sighed as she stretched and got up from her position beside nick, handing off her binoglasses and swapping her position with Wei.

"So nick, thought of a plan yet?"

She's been asking that question nearly hourly since they started.

"No, and there's not much point in putting a plan together until we know where they're going to put the container."

Camilla let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Come on, we've been here hours, what are you hoping to see that we haven't seen already? And even if we don't know where the container will end up that doesn't mean we can't start getting an outline."

Nick considered her words, and couldn't fault her logic.

"Alright, one thing that won't change on the container is our exfil. We can't exit via the ocean, the harbour police will be all over us, and I don't think anyone here can afford or fly an AV, so the only option is ferrying the chrome over land. I'm thinking a van, on the off chance were able to pick up extras we might want the space."

"I can acquire a van."

Both Nick and Camilla looked at Wei who was still looking through the binoglasses.

"Didn't you take the NCART with me yesterday, and show up on foot today? If you had a van why not use it then, save yourself the walk?"

"Because I don't have one. On of my classmates has one, and I've made use of it before, getting him to let me borrow it won't be an issue."

Now it was Camilla who chimed in.

"Classmate? You're in university? If you have the money for that why are you out here slumming it with us?"

Wei sighed, realising that neither nick nor Camilla would let him get out of this without a story, the monotony of their current task had made them desperate for distraction.

"Yes, I'm in university, but I'm not the one paying for it, my parents are. They also provide me with a small allowance, but it's only enough to cover food and board, if I want anything more I need to work for it, which is why I'm here."

Camilla scratched her head.

"Okay, you need money, sure. But why edgerunning? Not that I'd fault you avoiding working for a corp, but wouldn't you make more if you just did legal work? You're a techie right, surly there's a corp out there that needs an electrician or an engineer or whatever."

"That's not an option, my major is accounting and no company on earth would hire me for a position like that without qualifications."

"Acco— What the hell are you doing all this techie stuff for if you want to be an accountant?"

For the first time since they had met Wei's professional mask slipped little, and there was a hint of anger running through his reply.

"I don't want to be an accountant, my parents are forcing me to be one. They told me in no uncertain words that my choices are become an accountant of be disowned. I couldn't care less about accounting, but I don't want to be cut off from my family, so I sit through the classes and afterwards I work on what I'm really passionate about, engineering."

"Why do they even care? The pay can't be that different between an engineer and an accountant."

Wei let out another sigh the anger receded.

"Because both of them are accountants for Euro Business Machines at their Night City Office, and they want me to follow in their footsteps. They probably already have a cubical set aside for me.

That seemed to satisfy Camilla's curiosity, but Nick still had some questions.

"Missing classes won't be a problem, will it? I'll be pretty upset if we need you, and you tell us you can't make it because you've got to cram for a test."

Wei shook his head

"No, I've got a good attendance record and can afford a few absences. And don't worry about me wasting time studying… "

Wei tapped the side of his head behind his ear, which gave a faint 'tick tick' of his nail hitting metal.

"… I've got an accounting chip, one good enough to carry me through my major. It was expensive but the time its given me to pursue my passion is absolutely worth the cost."

"Hmm, and this friend you're borrowing the van from, they won't mind if it ends up getting a couple of holes shot through it."

"If it gets damaged I'll pay to get it fixed. Don't worry I won't ask either of you to help pay for it, unless you start shooting it for fun or Camilla wraps it around a pole."

Camilla scoffed.

"Pfft, like I would hit a pole. I was behind the wheel before I could walk y'know."

"Then how come you've been late every time we meet?"

"That's not my fault! I'm still getting used to the city, and the traffic, and the Data Terms are no help at all."

Nick couldn't help letting out a small chuckle as Camilla's flusteredly answered Wei's question.

"How long have you been In the city? Cant have been that long if the 'beast behind the wheel' is still relying on Data Terms to find her way around."

"About three weeks, This job is the first big job I've gotten since I moved here."

Something about the words she used tickled at the back of nicks mind.

"You moved here, you're not planing on going back to the family?"

Camilla shook her head.

"Nah, The Soldiers might be nomads, but they take their military roots pretty seriously, and they look down pretty heavily on 'desertion'. Besides after dad passed away there wasn't much keeping me there, and I figured I'd give city life a try. "

"And how's city life working out for you?"

"Pretty good. Having a coffin to just myself beats shearing an RV with four other people, and it's nice being able to just get food when ever I want, even if it's not as good as the stuff the family had. One thing I'll miss though is all the military equipment they had.

That threw Nick for a loop.

"They had military equipment?"

"Oh yeah, loads of it. A few AV 4's, 6's, and 9's, A bunch of Infantry Combat Vehicles and mobile missile launchers, and even four Pinto tilt-rotors."

Nick was shocked, that wasn't a nomad pack, it was a small army.

"Jesus, how the hell did they get so much hardware?"

"They took it with them when they formed, back during the collapse one Colonel Gregory Caspia and the soldiers under his command were based up in Santa Cruz, one day a wildfire engulfs the town, and the mayor orders them to stop trying to save the town and instead focus on only the rich neighbourhoods. Colonel Caspia took issue and he and his men deserted, taking any civilians who wanted to join him, as well as their hardware and equipment. And thus The Soldiers were born."

"Huh, and you're sure they won't welcome you back? Not gonna lie, this job will go much easier if we had an AV or two."

"No-pe." Camilla replied "It's not like they'd shoot me if I went back, but I'd definitely get the cold shoulder for a while. And you can forget the AV's. Even if I was in good standing with them, those kinds of assets aren't moved unless there's an active operation. and they aren't going to start an operation over something as trivial as a single snatch and grab because a random merc asked nicely. No offence."

It's a good thing nick didn't get his hopes up then. He turned back to his surveillance, the sun had fully set now and the colours of the world had lost their saturation as his cyberoptics low-light module compensated for the growing darkness.

He could see the guards were changing shifts, the ones wandering the yard returning to the main terminal, and new fresh guards taking their places.

"What about you?"

Nick tuned back to Camilla who was looking at him expectantly.

"What about me?"

"Wei and I gave our life stories, so what about yours?"

Wei chimed in.

"I'd also like to hear your professional background."

"Weren't we supposed to be putting a plan together?"

Camilla let out an exaggerated whine.

"Come on Nick, don't be like that. We both shared stuff, it's only fair if you share some as well."

"Fine, fine, but there's not much to tell, Born and raised in Night City, parents died in the Mob War, became a solo not long after and have been one ever since. That's about it."

Camilla and Wei were unimpressed with Nicks meagre offering

"What? Come on, there's got to be more than that. How about how you meet that fixer, Adeola, you guys seemed to know each other."

"He called you 'his favourite solo', surly there's some history."

Damn looks like there's no way out of this.

"Again, there's not much to tell. After my previous team… dissolved, I was struggling to find steady work, Ade just offered me more jobs than most other fixers. And don't put too much stock in the 'favourite solo' thing, Ade's the kind of guy to sing your praises when he wants you to do something for him, but if you ever want something from him, he'll act like you've never met."

Camilla looked to Wei and gestured at nick with her thumb.

"It's like pulling teeth with this guy, huh? What about your previous team, What were they like?"

He could feel his heart beat now, and he felt a chill spreading down his limbs like they had been dunked in cold water.

"We were a five-man team, Harry, Alice, Rei, Herman, and myself. Harry, Alice, and I were the ones to form it. Alice ran a conspiracy blog, and had hired me on as a bodyguard while she met with her sources. most of them were just spewing bullshit, but I guess one of them must have had something going on, because a corporate hit squad decided to crash our meeting. We survived the gunfight, but we weren't able to get away before the NCPD showed up and slapped Alice and I in cuffs. That's where we met harry who was willing to let us go in exchange for a bribe. Alice realised Harry was easily bought and started plying him for info on the NCPD, after a while we all started taking jobs together. Eventually we picked up Rei, who was our medtech, She was brilliant at what she did, but she was hopelessly addicted to braindances, even when we were on the job she wouldn't leave the apartment without her wreath. Herman was our newest member and another solo fresh of the boat from Europe. We picked him up for our last job, never shared much about himself and I never got a chance to know him."

"I'm guessing that 'last job' didn't work out, then."

The whine of an AV directly over head, its searchlight sweeping through the clouds of dust and sand kicked up by its down wash. The sand stung the skin and nearly blinded him, fear saturated his body as he forced his burning legs to run, even with the lance of white-hot pain that had pierced his left leg.

"No, it didn't."

An awkward silence descended over them as Nick turned back to surveilling the port. The silence persisted for minutes, broken only by the cars driving along the highway under them. Nick was thankful for ti as it gave him a chance to get his heart rate back under control.

It was Camilla that broke the silence.

"So, we've got the getaway sorted, how are we getting inside?"

Nick considered the question, grateful for the change in conversation and chance to distract himself from the past, and found he didn't have a clear answer.

"We can't get in through the front gate, I doubt they allow visitors, and we'd be swarmed with security. The ocean is still a no-go. Cutting through the fence would be our best bet, we could wait until nightfall, put a hole anywhere along it close to the container, cut down the time we need to spend in the yards. But with all the lights and watchtowers I can't see us getting in unseen."

"What if we took out the power?"

"Excuse me?"

Wei pointed with one arm, still holding the bionglasses in the other.

"As far as I can see, there's only one set of transmission lines feeding into a single substation inside the port. If we can disrupt it might affect the power for the whole port."

Nick tried to find the area Wei was pointing too, and saw that indeed there was only one set of power lines feeding into a substation set further into the port.

"How are we going to 'disrupt' it, I'm good, but I can't lob a grenade that far and unless Camilla brought a rocket launcher with her —" "I didn't" "— I think the substation is a bit beyond our reach."

Wei put down the binoglasses and drummed his fingers on the grated floor

"I'm thinking an EMP, delivered via drone. There's a student in the robotics club that owes me a favour, so I should be able to get my hands on a drone capable of carrying the payload. I can build the payload myself, but I'll need you and Camilla to pick up some components."

"Why bother building an EMP? Wouldn't a regular bomb be easier to get.

Nick looked incredulously at Camilla.

"This job might be paying well, but It's not nearly enough to risk the Marshals coming after us for terrorism. Wei's got the right idea, an EMP should be more subtle, they might even believe it's just a regular power outage, and give us a window of time before the guards figure out what's happening. And if it helps delay the harbour police even a minute it'll be worth it."

"Are they really that bad? Their just cops aren't they?"

"They're worse. The harbour master runs them like they're a combat gang, enforcing the law around the port ruthlessly, blowing pirates out of the water, gunning down smugglers, these guys don't fuck around. They can't be bought either, so if they catch us in the act our only options are to run into the city and hope they don't follow, but I recon it's a coin-flip weather they follow or not, they've gotten into fights with the NCPD over jurisdiction before, so who knows."

"Fair enough, is there anything else we need?"

Nick gave it some thought, they would definitely need someone watching the van while they were retrieving the cyberware, in case some guard gets nosy or a bystander happens to find it suspicious and calls the cops.

"We'll need overwatch, one of us has to watch the van and cover us if shit hits the fan."

Camilla sat up straighter at that.

"Oh! I can take care of that, I've even got a sniper rifle so I can cover you even while you're in the port."

"You've got a sniper rifle?"

"Mm-hm, an old Marine Corps M40 converted to use seven point six two caseless. Something of a nomad speciality."

"Good, we'll park across from the fence, and you can find a vantage point on the nearby buildings while we knock out the power and go in."

"So that's the plan then? Wait till night, roll up in a van, knock out the power, cut through the fence, you two grab the cyberware while I watch the car, and then we scram?"

"It seems so, unless you or Wei have anything else you want to add?"

Neither had anything to add, so they moved on to figuring out how they would organise their round the clock surveillance. In the end they decided to take eight-hour shifts, with nick taking the first shift.

Camilla slid down the billboard's ladder, while Wei descended the ladder normally, leaving nick to maintain watch over the port. While it was pretty unlikely that the ship would show up this early they couldn't take the chance. If the ship did show up, and no one was around to watch it be unloaded, they would have no idea which pile of containers held their prize. And they would need to spend precious minutes fumbling around the in the dark to find it while contending guards around every corner.

And thus began the second-worst part of the job.

Waiting.

Monster Enthusiast · 2026-06-19T01:13:49+0100

Authors note:
I've been killing it lately in terms of progress, so I thought I'd drop a second chapter this week instead of letting it sit on my computer for another five days.
I don't know if i'll be able to maintain my current pace, so I won't commit yet to a second chapter per week, but if I can keep it up it would be great to get out two chapters a week.

Nick yawned as he leaned back, propped up by his elbows on the steps to his apartment building. Wiping away a tear that had formed from his yawn he watched as the usual morning traffic, pedestrian and vehicular, started to thin as midday crept ever closer.

It was rough, waking up with only four hours of sleep. But hey, silver lining, he hadn't slept long enough to have another nightmare. He'd thought he was over the nightmares, that enough time had passed that he wouldn't have to wake up in the middle of the night anymore. But he guessed getting back into the swing of things was drudging up old memories.

Thankfully today would be light work. Wei had Managed to get the van as well as put together a list of parts he needed for the EMP before his shift began, both of which he'd given to Camilla. All Nick had to do was purchase a bunch of techie bits with Camilla, and then he could go back to bed and try to get some sleep in preparation for his next surveillance shift.

A Van pulled up to the curb and honked its horn. It was old, with chipped, weather damaged yellow paint, and small rust streaks running down the van's body. Nick couldn't see through the tinted window but knew Camilla was sitting behind the wheel.

Nick pushed up off the steps fighting back another yawn and made his way over to the passenger side door. Opening the door he was blasted with the twangy guitar and harmonic singing of a country song playing over the radio, and the sight of Camilla in a desert tan T-shirt and camo pants

"Hey Nick! Good Morning!"

Camilla had to shout over the music to greet him as he slipped into the seat. He reached over and dialled down the radio's volume from ear bursting to background noise.

"What, not a fan of country?"

"Have you been driving around like that all morning?

"Like what?"

The shit-eating grin on her face gave away that she was messing with him. Nick rolled his eyes, clicked his seatbelt on and leaned back into the seat as they rejoined the traffic.

"So, what are we picking up?"

Camilla fished a folded piece of paper from her pocket and held it against the steering wheel.

"We need a coil of copper wire, a load of high capacity capacitors, a length of aluminium pipe, a detonator, and some plastic explosive. He gave directions to a store where we can get most of this stuff, but he said we're on our own for the detonator and explosive."

"What does he need explosives for? I thought we were build ing an EMP."

Camilla shrugged her shoulders.

"I asked the same thing, he tried explaining it to me but a lot of it went over my head. I think the explosion crushes the tube and reduces flux of the energy running through the copper coil, which makes the magnetic pulse, or something like that. Whatever the case, he wants it."

Nick drummed his fingers on the door trim, watching cars and pickups pass by as Camilla weaved through traffic.

"There's a fixer I know, we used to pickup hardware like that from him back with my old team. He might not want to work with me anymore, but he should still sell to us."

"Can't we just ask Adeole to get this stuff? He's supposed to be our fixer isn't he?"

"If you want to pay double the price for this stuff than be my guest. But I'd rather exhaust all other options before going to him."

They stoped at a red light which Camilla stared at unblinkingly.

"You know the guy that well? He seemed pretty generous to me, paying us this much for a pretty simple job."

"No, not really. But I know — "

The light turned green and Camilla floored it, maxing the rev limiter and pulling ahead of the other cars at the lights. The acceleration pushing Nick back into the seat until she reached the speed limit and the acceleration ceased.

" —the type. And trust me, there's nothing generous about Ade. I wouldn't be surprised if he's pocketing double what were making."

"What about the jobs he gave you? You said he was one of the few who gave you work after your last job. Doesn't that count for something?"

"He had me hoofing bags of synth-coke across the city and standing menacingly behind him at meetings, all while paying me scraps. He could have had any rookie edgerunner doing those jobs, but he saw me and my experience, and my situation, and realised he could get a competent solo for the price of a rookie right of the street. Want my advice? When this is all over find a different fixer. Ade will use you up and pay you ennies for the privilege."

"C'mon, he can't be that bad."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when he ends up getting you killed on some half-baked job."

"Like this one?"

"Yeah."

They had left behind the residential suburbs and entered a light commercial zone, warehouses and squat two and single story buildings emblazon with banners and signage of small businesses and minor subsidiaries. They turned off the main road pulled into the parking lot of an electrical components distributor occupying a massive warehouse with a small shopfront nestled in the side. Nick turned to Camilla as they both unbuckled themselves.

"Did Wei give you money for this stuff?"

"Yeah, a couple of hundred eddies. He said that the basic stuff should cost around a hundred, the extra hundred is for the explosives."

"We'll be lucky if we can get them that cheap. Think you could cover the difference if they end up costing more?"

"Why am I paying it? Shouldn't we split it?"

"Because im broke. I'll pay you back when we get paid."

"Fine, let's get this over with."

They entered the store and were met with a dead-eyed employee behind the counter. They listed out the parts they were after, and the employee entered them into a computer as they were read out. The employee stated the parts would be one hundred and ten eddies, which they paid, after Camilla's attempt to haggle was immediately shot down by the employee.

Ten minutes later a forklift brought out a pallet containing their purchase wrapped together tightly with stretch warp. The forklift operator offered to bring the pallet around to the van for a fiver, which Camilla and carried the package back to the van herself, putting them next to her bike which was leaning against the wall of the van. With components acquired they got back in the van and drove off, rejoining the main road traffic, now in the opposite direction.

"Alright, where's this fixer were going to?

"His names Frank, hangs out a bar called Below Zero, in Japan Town, I'll give directions when we get back into the city. With a bit of luck we'll catch him between appointments."

They doubled back on the rout they had taken and continued into Central Night City, brushing the edge of the combat zone and passing under the W.Gibson Memorial Freeway. The perpetually dirty and neglected streets of South Night city gave way to clean streets, patrolled by Arasaka security guards as they entered Japan Town. A few turns later they pulled up to their destination, a small hole-in-the-wall bar nestled between a pair of apartment blocks. Two glowing neon Hiragana characters hung above the entrance, with "Below Zero" underneath them win english.

The interior was dim, with no windows outside and only a few lights illuminating the bottle selection behind the bar and weak mood lamps at tables. The largest source of light was a hologram of a cherry blossom tree which dominated the ceiling amidst the cigarette smoke emitted by the bar's few patrons and cast the bar in a faint pink hue. Nick's low-light module cut through the darkness and allowed him to see the bar as clearly as if the sun was shining overhead, and at the back of the bar, clad in a trench coat with cyberhands poking out the sleeves and fishing out cigarette from his pack, was the Frank.

Nick started walking over, Camilla following after him. The fixer put the cigarette to his mouth and snapped his fingers, a flame burst from this thumb, and he lit his cig, taking a drag and exhaling a breath of smoke as Nick and Camilla reached his table.

"Well if it isn't Lucky. Hadn't heard from you for a while, figured you'd finally skipped town."

"I grew up here, im not about to give up on the city unless im completely out of options. "

"Admirable, not every one has the stubbornness to persist in the face of adversity."

"Giving me some work might have helped that 'adversity'."

The fixer took another drag of his cigarette.

"If it was just losing your team I might have, it happens, y'know. But your fixer too? And without even a body showing up? That just screams trouble, and I don't want to be around you when whoever flatlined your team and grabbed him figures out they missed one."

"It happened months ago, if something like that was going to happen it'd have happened by now."

"Maybe, maybe not, but it looks like you've already got something going if the nomad hovering behind you is anything to go by."

"Yeah, finally found paying work."

"Who from?"

"Adeole."

The Frank grimaced.

"Ah, my condolences. Wait, it's not that port job is it?"

Nick raised an eyebrow.

"You heard of it?"

"Heard of it? They've been shopping for a fixer for a while now, even tried to get me organising it, all while offering next to no intel and acting cagey as hell. Now im not the job organising kind of fixer — another mark against them for not doing their research — but even if I was, I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole. "

"Well I don't really have a choice. But we've got a plan, we just need some material."

"This isn't just a social call then? Alright, walk with me."

Frank got up from his seat and led them through the back entrance of the bar and into an alley. A van was parked at the end of the alley with a rough looking man leaning against the back doors.

"Andre! Open her up."

At Franks call the man nodded his head and oped the doors. the walls of the van were lined with racks of guns and gear, belts of bullets hung from the roof, and the floor of the ban was covered in hard plastic cases with logos like Millitech, Sternmyer, and Colt moulded into them.

"So, what are you buying?"

"Plastic explosive, with a detonator."

"Ah, lucky you I've got just the thing."

Frank climbed into the van and over the various cases and climbed out holding a small wooden box with a "Property of U.S Army" painted on top in faded yellow paint. Flipping the latches he opened it up and pulled out a faded satchel with a stubby antenna poking out the top flap, a strong chemical smell started filling the air, emanating from the satchel.

"Genuine, military issue, Composition Four plastic explosive. Pre-mixed, with remote detonator attached. And it's yours for two hundred and fifty eddies."

Nick was about to agree, but Camilla beat him to the punch.

"C-4? That stuffs got to be ancient, let me see it."

She snatched the satchel out of Franks hand, causing the hustle to stand up from his position leaning against the building adjacent to the van, only to stop as frank held up a hand to him. Camilla pulled the explosive from the satchel, it was a rectangular brick, yellow in colour with a slight sheen to the surface and covered in small hairline cracks. The Chemical smell amplified by an order of magnitude causing Nick to Cough and cover his nose. She pinched one of the corners of the brick, the c-4 slightly moulded but cracked at the edges.

"Thought so, this stuffs rotten. I wouldn't be surprised if it was mixed back in the First Central American War. We'll need something else."

Frank sat on one of the cases with a pinched expression, and not just due to the suffocating smell.

"Things like that are hard to come by, a few bullets or even a rifle falling through the cracks are easy to be overlooked, but explosives? They need to 'fall off a truck' in a more literal sense. That's the only explosive I've got, unless you want some hand grenades."

"Hmm, give me as sec."

Camilla wheeled around and walked over to nick and pulled him into a huddle.

"Do you know anyone else who might have explosives"

"No. The kind of fixers who deal in hardware like this usually require an invitation, something we won't get before are ship comes in. "

Camilla tsked.

"Is the C-4 really no good?" nick asked.

"Borderline, It's still somewhat malleable, so the plasticiser isn't completely gone. Wei should be able to make it work. I'll just have to give him a hand so he doesn't blow himself up while working it."

They broke the huddle and Camilla addressed Frank.

"Alright we'll take it, but its not worth two fifty, we'll give you a hundred."

"A hundred! I just told you how hard this stuff is to find, two twenty-five.

"It's old as hell, see the sheen? That's the binder sweating out. Another month and this block will crumble apart. One thirty."

"Well you're not using it in a month, are you? If this wasn't a rush order Nick over there would have done the courtesy of calling ahead. One seventy-five."

"Look how stiff and brittle it is, its just barley malleable enough for what we need. One forty."

"Good enough is good enough. If it wasn't, you wouldn't be haggling with me. One seventy."

"One seventy and you throw in a hand grenade."

Frank drummed his fingers on his leg as he thought it over.

"Fine, just remember, no refunds."

Camilla put the satchel back in the wooden case, while frank pulled a grenade off the wall of the van and tossed it under arm to nick who caught it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Camilla handed a wad of bills to Frank who thumbed through them.

"Always a pleasure doing business, Nick, Miss Nomad. And good luck with that port job Nick, if it goes belly up I'll make sure they put something nice on your tombstone.

They reentered the bar, with Camilla holding the crate under her cyberarm.

"Hold on nick, ive got to wash my hands, get the chemicals off them. Here — "

She passed the crate to nick, and dropped the van keys on top.

"— just put it with the other stuff and get the van started, ill be out in a bit."

Camilla walked into the bathroom before he could get a word in. Shrugging nick complied waling back to the ban and stuffing the crate in between the other components, before hoping in the passenger seat again, and reaching over to put the keys in and start the van. Five minutes later Camilla emerged from the bar and started walking to the passenger side unable to see him through the tinted windows, she opened the door only to be surprised that nick was already occupying the seat.

"What, don't want to drive?"

"Can't, never learned how."

"Damn, you have my sympathies."

Camilla closed the door and walked around to the other side, taking her position behind the wheel before backing out onto the road and driving off into the city.

"So, 'Lucky' is it?"

Nick groaned.

"Don't start with that, please. I've been trying to get away form that nickname for months, ever since my team bought it."

"Fine, I'll let it lie. I've met a few old vets with embarrassing call signs before, so I get it."

"Thanks, and good work with the haggling. I didn't know you knew so much about explosives.

Camilla didn't take her eyes off the road, but Nick could tell she was listening to him.

"It was part of the scout training, being able to recognise and set booby traps, that kind of thing. They also tried to give all the kids a healthy appreciation of what all the munitions could do and how to properly handle them. Incase some dumb kid tries to play around with a grenade and ends up blowing themselves up."

"Hmm, is that how you lost the arm?"

Nick could see a grin form along the side of her face.

"Hah! I was wondering when you'd ask. And what makes you think I lost the arm?"

"I've met a few people with cyber arms, nearly all of them who get them by choice chose to get two. The people who only had one usually just needed a replacement."

"Well, you're half right. I lost it young, but it wasn't from playing with explosives, as kids we would play around in the motor pool when the grownups were busy, climbing all over the ICVs and playing pretend. One day we're climbing over one of the ICVs, and who ever parked it must have forgotten to put the brakes on or parked it on an incline or something, because it starts rolling forward while we're all still on it. I was still on the side when it starts moving, and I fell off, landing on my chest and flinging my arms out, and my right arm gets chewed up by between the treads and road wheels."

She held her arm out, the other still griping the wheel.

"They ended up amputating everything from about half down my upper arm. cyberware's hard to come by out in the dessert, and we didn't have any kiddie arms, so I was stuck with a nub until I finished puberty and stoped growing, and they could instal a full size cyberarm."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Nah don't be, I love it. It doesn't get tired, and it doesn't wobble when im holding a rifle for a long time. When we get paid I might look and see if I can find another and get a matching set. Oh, also my other arm couldn't do this."

Camilla clenched her hand into a fist and three, foot long, triangular blades sprang form the back of her wrist.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

The rest drive through night city passed uneventfully, Nick and Camilla engaged in small talk as they way to billboard. They drove the van up to the billboard through one the chain-link gates that they had managed to open since starting their surveillance. Camilla pulled her bike out of the van, rested it against the billboard pylon and whistled, letting Wei know it was time to change over.

Wei descended the ladder, letting them know there was still no sign of the Zhuigan, and checked over the parts Nick and Camilla had acquired. Wei was satisfied with the components, even with Camilla's warning that the explosive would need to be handled with her help.

"Good, this will be every thing I need to make the EMP."

"So we're good to go on the drone?"

Wei looked chagrined, and Nick feared he would not be getting a rest any time soon.

"I'm afraid there has been a… complication, with acquiring the drone."

Down On Your Luck

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