Some Warpunk in Cybercraft! [Fanfiction]

As the day went on, one thing became certain.

These kids were NOT gangers. Wannabe or otherwise. They seemed like the trust fund frat and sorority crowd.

They didn't seem to be bothering anyone. Hell they didn't even bother me, the obviously out of place poor guy, in a shitty car, when they'd made a supply run earlier.

Sure I was armed and armored but when has that ever really stopped people with this level of wealth.

What the hell was this?

I sent a text to Carver. Targets observed, no gang behavior or activity. Upper crust. Verify job parameters. I sent along a few pics of the kids.

Half an hour later, I got the reply. Confirmed, eliminate all targets. Other factors irrelevant.

"Shit." I whispered to myself. Why would they want me to kill a bunch of rich kids?

Sure, I get why they want ME to do it. I'm a nobody, an unknown. That made me an excellent cutout. I do this and someone will kill me one way or another. Carver to tie up loose ends, the kids parents for revenge. I wasn't getting out of this easy.

But who benefitted? Another Corp maybe?

I kept mulling it over, really thinking how I felt about this. I kind just went with the flow and tried to do things the way people here did them. That wasn't going to work, everything here was designed to chew you up. No I needed another way.

Yeah, I wasn't going to be played like this. I certainly wasn't going to zero a bunch of college aged kids, for unknown reasons.

Getting involved with fixers was a mistake, or at least Carver was. Thankfully, I'd left Sinnamin's name out of it. So, I could just walk away. Go back to base, come back with a small army maybe dig Carver up and put him down.

But first, I was going to throw a monkey wrench into the works of this job.

I stalked over to the Mansion with Fix and Scuff flanking me.

Dusk was falling and their party was just getting started. I looked around to see if I was being watched. If I was I could spot them, but it's not like I was good at these things. Probably best to assume somebody was going to know what was about to happen.

My Probes were probably already in stealth mode. Already looking for danger.

At the Gates, I saw a vid screen so I pushed the button. A second later a well put together guy with a huge smile appeared on the screen.

"Hey you here for the...No, I guess you aren't." His smile faded, he took in my grim face and my gear and started making some calculations.

"I'd like to speak with the head of the house, please." Best to keep this simple and straight forward.

"I'm him at least for now." A more stern expression was creasing his features. He was trying to figure me out.

"I'd like your contact info. I have some detes that are vital to your safety and I don't want to stick around any longer than I have to." Just say yes kid.

"That doesn't sound like a good idea, in fact, I think you should leave." He was frowning now.

I notice some of the bots were headed this way.

"Alright, I tried to help you. My conscience is clear. Have a good life. However, short it's going to be."

I spun and jogged back to the Galena. I hopped in and felt the Probes attach a second later.

I took off. I went down that Main street as fast as I could.

I left New Town with a bitter taste in my mouth. The next person they send isn't likely to care as much as I did. It was going to be a big mess.

Well, not my problem anymore.

When I got to the Northside Industrial District I headed south, staying on the eastern most side of the city. I blazed through Japantown and Charter Hills. I turned Eastward and headed for home.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, I decided to stop at the Sunset Motel. It was busy, but I wanted to call my van out here. Maybe have a drink, think for a spell.

I left the Probes in the lot to wander around. I checked out some of the rides I saw.

Dirty sure but well maintained, heavily modded. These people loved their cars, we had something in common. So maybe they wouldn't be major assholes.

I saw some folks outside lounging around with drinks and laughing. I got a few nods as I came through, and I returned them.

In the barroom, it was a party. Loud, almost country, music blaring away. People dancing and play cards. Just having a good time. Lively without being overwhelming.

I saw Greg behind the counter and another smaller guy, ah...Noah, I think Greg said was the guy he worked for.

Greg caught sight of me, "Heya Ryan, ya picked a good night to drop by. Whatcha havin'?" He pointed at a seat at the bar that was unoccupied.

"A whiskey, neat. How's biz, Greg?" Smiling a bit. It's nice to be remembered.

"Two Clans just had a good haul, made some connections. These guys were on the way back to their camp and decided to have some fun. How'd NC treat you?"

I gave him the rundown, kept names out of it. He laughed when I told him about Lizzie's, "Yeah them Mox girl are something, huh?"

He got me a refill as I got to how I earned enough for my chrome. "Yeah, Strom left their human parts behind, and Scavs are pure scum. Ya did good."

I was starting to loosen up, as I came to why I was heading home for a while. He sighed, "That's the city for ya, a never endin' game of who can backstab who the most."

On my fourth whiskey, "Shhoo, unlesh youu know a good fixher tha I can shell shome lumber ta, I got almosht nuthin' outa thish."

It made sense he was used to dealing with inebriated people, "Well maybe, I could help ya out. Put in a word for ya with some folk I know. They ain't friendly but they won't screw ya without reason."

"Y-your a prrretty goood duude, Greg." I ordered a coffee, I had to bring myself back to even. Back hey, it was good to vent.