Michael 'Magos' Sobronov
"Got bored listening to the same song get rehearsed for the umpteenth time?" I ask as the steps behind me come to a halt.
I didn't bother turning way from the sight of a distant sunrise, still chewing my premium burger and savoring every bite while my legs dangled off the side of the penthouse balcony.
Say what you will about our VIP but the man barely treated us like random bodyguards dumped on him by Rogue and more like a trio of chooms he brought along for a fun trip around the globe.
He could have very well requested we don't make ourselves noticeable while with him, and we would have no reasonable basis to object. The job was keeping him alive, not hanging out.
But instead we got fed elite restaurant level food, and got dragged around Zurich for a fun if tense night out in town (Kerry got into three different fistfights despite me literally looming over him the entire time. The man was talented, just not in the way he thought.)
Whenever the depressive musician wasn't busy acting out however I found our stay to be more than pleasant, and even managed a few hours of solo slinking while the rest were back at the apartment to grab all of the souvenirs I'd promised to get.
My looks naturally drew caution wherever I went, but the locals were polite so long as I remained the same, and save for us sharing curious glances at each other (they were weirdly cyberware averse and mostly spent their resources on bioware and even exotic modifications) all I had to deal with for my 'intrusion' was a small squad of police droids openly paying attention to me.
Perfectly understandable really.
Shame I didn't have time to explore the many museums and parks in any depth, but I could always do that on my own time and dime in the future.
"Just curious what you were up to." Kimigawa's mild response draws me back to the present.
She was leaning against a nearby stone pillar that held up the glass ceiling above the balcony, looking well rested and prepared for the day "You've been sitting out here for most of the night."
"Mostly enjoying the view and trying to burn it into my brain. Zurich is a beautiful place, even if the weirdos are too quiet." I say with a light chuckle.
No crowds, no shouting, hell not even gunshots! The place was practically a tomb.
"But I've also been browsing the local net scene." I add "For all the good that did me."
"What do you mean?"
"Its all oversanitized corposlop." I scoff, shoving the rest of my meal down my throat "Everyone talks the same and thinks the same. Its like they were fucking programmed... And the only couple of actual runners prefer to keep to themselves, not that I can't understand their decision."
"Were you expecting an NC gaming lobby or something?" She asks, amused.
"You joke but I'm not blowing things out of proportion here." I shake my head "The way they act on the localnet is fucking eerie." Like being surrounded by a fucking spam virus honestly...
"Yeah, I get it." She says, obviously not getting it "Find out anything useful at least?"
"Apparently the Mayor decided to impose a curfew while the gala is going on." I say almost offhandedly "A rather stringent one too."
"Seriously?" She blanches.
"Yup." I snort "Fucker wasn't even trying to hide he is bought. Though that's probably a sign of prestige over here now that I think about it..."
"Anything we should worry about?"
"You mean aside from all the corporate bodyguards?"
"Yes, aside from the soulless murder machines." She rolls her eyes.
"Nothing that stood out to me." I shrug and slowly start getting up "If anyone has plans about crashing the party, they are being real quiet about it."
Discussions on 'threats to the people's safety' obviously existed but none of it clicked as anything more than fear mongering to me, and any actual discussion on the topics was so heavily censored and controlled it left that particular avenue of research quite dead.
"Joy."
"Chin up." I pat my coat down from the bits morning dew sticking to it, because that was an actual thing here apparently "Chances are some corpo will try to make a spectacle out of murdering one of their rivals so we are still getting a show."
"Joy." She repeats, sounding not at all joyful.
---
The day passed in a blur of preparation and planning, and just as the sun began to dip once more, I found myself crouched in my own little corner of the penthouse, looming over my oversized toolbox.
For once I didn't overthink my own preparation, tying a belt of EMP grenades around my waist, and a bandolier of frags over my chest.
My old reliable Liberty was joined by a freshly modified and upsized Burya. The pistol had been turned into a genuine hand canon, and while the power had gotten only a slight boost, the weapon could at least be considered a revolver instead of a breech loader.
I magnetically attached my chainsword to my hip, and slung my Crusher over my shoulder, the rest of my weapons and tools getting moved over into a smaller and more compact suitcase I would carry on my back.
Briefly looking the whole ensemble over, I nodded in satisfaction.
I could only hope none of it would be necessary.
---
The armored limo drove up the hillside with nary a rumble, leading us to a grand palatial complex built in the old European style that was to house both the gala and the concert.
Donny the manager tugged at his high collared neokitch jacket, trying and failing to hide the still raw scars of his last moment visit to the doctor's "K-Kerry." He half stuttered and quickly cleared his throat "Are you s-sure you are ready for tonight?"
"Shut it, Donald." The rocker snapped, not even bothering to look at him and instead eyeing a sealed bottle of whiskey like it owed him money.
He was doing much better than three days ago, but seeing as he could only go up from there that wasn't exactly saying much.
At least he was eyeing the drink now instead of the gun.
The fat manager's eyes flashed with anger but being a cowardly little shit, he said nothing.
While the two were questioning their life choices, the rest of us decided to go over our plans one final time.
[M: Layout stays the same as we discussed. I'm direct hustle, Sharpe is close circle info gathering and support, Kimigawa is overwatch, questions?]
[K: Plans for if VIP moves around too much?]
I sent her a file containing the hall's blueprints.
[M: Focus on the main dining hall, reception hall, and concert hall. Find secure route between the three. Concert hall holds priority.]
[K: Got it.]
[M: Sharpe, any questions?]
[S: Of course not. I will charm my way through the crowd and stand ready to help as needed.]
[K: "Charm".]
[S: No need for such scathing remarks, my dear. There is enough to go around.]
The old man's moustache twitched as he sent the message.
[M: Good, got your chips ready?]
They both sent affirmations.
[M: Remember the drone instructions?]
Kimigawa visibly rolled her eyes but they both confirmed again.
[M: Excellent. 10 minutes ETA.]
Seeing the duo relaxing I disconnected from the call.
'Anything on the net, Logos?'
[Negative. No intrusions excepting corporate security performing routine scanning.]
'They didn't notice you, I hope?'
[Keeping a low profile is unchallenging with so much noise. The Netwatch delegation shows no reaction.]
'Good, good. Best keep it that way.'
[I have also taken the liberty of snooping through one of the local biolab's data banks.]
'You fucking what?' I did my best not to twitch.
[It was perfectly safe, they were a less than prominent company and had no protections worthy of a net based lifeform.]
'And what had you so curious about a biolab?'
[Your disproportionate attention to the feline-based modifications on the server last night-]
'Catgirls are good culture, now stop avoiding the question.'
A beat passed.
[Very well. I merely hungered for understanding. The Night City netspace is too volatile for idle observation and I was secure enough in the knowledge my constant presence was not necessary.]
'So... you just wanted a break?'
[...Affirmative.]
I barely managed not to sigh out loud 'Next time just ask me instead of sneaking about, I don't mind you having your own you time.'
[Really?]
'You are in my head. Are you really that surprised?'
[The thoughts concerning me you allow me to observe tend to be... contradictory.]
'Welcome to being a person.' I mentally huff and quickly add 'If you want my honest opinion on something simply ask me, and I will answer.'
[Truly?]
'We are partners, are we not?'
[...We are. Thank you.]
Making a mental note to smack myself for letting things get this far I think a bit louder for the lack of a better word 'Just not right now. We've arrived.'
The limo slowed down as we approached the perimeter, the guard quickly waving us through as the driver eased us into a secluded parking spot.
Immediately, the three of us fanned out of the car, my two partners looking serious and attentive while my own face remained hidden behind my visor.
Kerry and Donny stepped out a moment after us, gawking at the stadium sized palace surrounded by fountains and artificial streams despite their experience with similar sights.
They shook it off quickly enough and we fell in around the VIP, completely ignoring the manager as none of us was paid to protect him.
Before we reached the halfway point to the entrance, Kimigawa slinked off on her own, her digital signature dimming to near imperceptibility under the effect of one of my chips.
"Like a monument to everything wrong with the world." I caught Kerry muttering as he stared up into the grand arch above the entrance, before he quickly shook his head and we ascended the marble staircase.
We were not the only ones who came early either, as I could easily identify a number of the delegations already mingling in the park.
And by mingling I meant a blonde woman in Biotechnica colors was glaring at a grizzled veteran wearing Militech overalls, all the while the Militech rep's fully plated Dragoon FBC bodyguard was glaring death at the pair of hulking men standing near the Biotech rep.
They had obviously been heavily biomodded, their bones and musculature coming back as much denser and heavier to my silent scan, alongside a number of beneath the skin growths I couldn't even begin to guess at with so little information.
Didn't stop me from feeling quite curious about how well they would stand up to a frame as notorious as the Dragoon.
Unfortunately, corporate representatives, and doubly so the representatives of the big names, did not get to their positions by being mentally deficient, so the little staredown died before we even reached the hall's entrance.
[The Dragoon displays signs of deficient connection. Beware proximity.]
'Got it.' I nodded and stepped into the reception hall.
There was a good reason the Dragoon was notorious instead of famous. Way too many god damn sensors for the human brain to reasonably cope with, at least not without considerable medication, and a very finite lifespan.
Even more notorious exceptions aside, of course.
The reception hall of the Zurichen Prunksaal was beyond massive, and beyond shiny, and after the VIP was given a few moments to grab himself a drink we were greeted by a uniformed valet who at first spoke to us in German but quickly flipped to English once he recognized Kerry "-I beg your pardon, sir. Please follow me and I will show you to your assigned seating for the evening."
"Thanks." He muttered without even looking at him.
Which didn't seem to bother him in the slightest as he led us up a section of stairs that veered off to the side and would end up in the far back of the main hall, placing us with the rest of the 'entertainment.'
Or a portion of them anyway.
Nice and far away from the rats. Good.
A twitch of the hand had Sharpe peeling off on his own and joining the rest while I drew the attention to myself by simply existing.
The other artists sponsored by the corps were understandably rather intimidated by the presence of a looming heavily armed bodyguard walking into their colorful little gathering, and just for a brief moment there was silence.
But then Donny went and opened his mouth, speaking loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the room as he tried to coerce his rater pissed off client into playing nice with the supposedly famous names in the room.
Which naturally caused Kerry to quite loudly tell me to stop anyone from coming anywhere near us, dampening the mood in the room again, and making Donny look like he'd just swallowed a lemon.
Before Kerry decided he'd had enough and told the man to go and make sure the concert hall was in good order, finally freeing us of his presence.
An hour passed with me deriving considerable amusement from glaring a number of the curious clout chasing artists into silent submission before the lights in the main hall dimmed and the EEC rep opened up with his sickeningly sanitized speech about global trade, prosperity and cooperation and other such tripe while saying absolutely nothing at all.
The man could have probably kept weaving the speech for hours, but he was merciful and settled only on forty minutes before the whole event turned from meaningless words to some of the most blatantly masturbatory performative generosity the human mind could conceive of.
Completely worthless items were auctioned off whereupon the buyer and the amount of money they threw at it would be announced for all to hear, repeatedly.
In short, it was a 'polite' dickmeasuring contest of who had more money to burn away.
Because I was one hundred percent sure none of this was actually going to charity.
And I wanted to join this clown show?
Guess there is an actual reason for people to go to rat school, if they needed to strategize around stupid shit like this.
V was probably having the time of her life right now...
The Corpo
Her eyes were completely and utterly dead as she listened to the speaker announce Biotechnica's sixth multimillion 'donation' for the day and for a moment she wished for nothing more than to go back in time and kick Smasher in the dick.
At least then she wouldn't have to listen to anymore of this shit.
She gave the cyborg a sideways glance and barely kept her face from twitching as she saw him stare off into nothing, optics dimmed and body completely still.
Was he... was he asleep?
A loud applause drew her eyes back to the podium just as the speaker, a Jean Claude from Brussels, cleared his throat "The less fortunate will no doubt thank you for your kindness tonight. And I personally thank you for your patience." Cue polite chuckles "We have prepared a fine selection of entertainment and amenities for the evening, please enjoy yourselves at your leisure."
With polite but halfhearted applause, the man stepped off from his spot.
What even was the point of all that?
"The boredom is a weapon, Ms. Price." The ever so slightly amused voice of Yorinobu Arasaka sent a chill down her spine as she realized she had spoken aloud.
A cybernetic snort informed her it wasn't just the ninjas who witnessed the blunder either.
"Fear not, the reaction is perfectly understandable." The corporate heir assured without looking at her "I personally tuned the fool out over an hour ago." He paused "But you must no doubt be wondering about the real reason behind this... grand gathering."
"Yes, sir." She said quickly, squashing her curiosity about the man's seeming openness with her. Keeping quiet in the presence of an Arasaka family member was the rule, but not speaking when spoken to was an even worse faux pas than speaking unprompted.
"They are rattled." He says with some mockery "It seems some fresh group of 'fanatical and radical communists' have began acting against the EEC in the past years and the union has so far been unable to put them down on their own. Tonight serves as their first real attempt of gathering support against them."
"Are-" She caught herself but seeing the expectant look on Mr. Arasaka's face she went on "Are we looking to 'help' them out?"
"No." He shook his head, a light exhale leaving his nose "We are here merely to counterbalance Militech's presence. The Europeans restarting cooperation with them would be... unfortunate."
'Read: Disastrous.'
"And if we ourselves were to begin cooperating with Europe instead, Militech would take it as a direct challenge." He went on "No doubt resulting in another corporate war."
"Might actually be fun this time." Smasher grunts "Been a while since I've had a good bloodbath."
"Well my honorable Father has decided the time for open warfare is not now." The heir stands up and turns to the exit of their private booth "Come. There may yet be something worthwhile to salvage from the evening."
They made their way back to the reception hall followed by the rest of the bodyguard detail, and just as she was about to call the valet and ask about the itinerary, she just barely managed to catch a muttered:
"-is that fucking Smasher?"
Sadly for whichever idiot drew attention to themselves, Smasher's hearing was far better than her own.
Her apathy practically evaporated as she looked at just who had spoken, and saw the world famous NC rockstar Kerry Eurodyne glaring at the massive fullborg, while another familiar figure was standing behind him, clutching at the handles of his weapons like his life depended on it.
'FUCK!'
Michael 'Magos' Sobronov
'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!'
[Preparing emergency assault protocol]
Adam 'Fucking' Smasher
He stomped over to the dumbass cheerleader whose boyfriend he painted on the pavement ages ago, making sure to move slowly enough so the meat had enough time to shit itself.
But before he could have his fun, he noticed something interesting about the bodyguard he'd almost dismissed.
'Now there is a model I've never seen.' He grinned internally, suddenly speeding up only to stop himself a foot away from striking range as he found a modified Burya railgun pointed at the Biopod in his chest.
His mental grin had only widened at the reaction 'Finally, some fun!'
-------
Deposit your stones upon the altar of progress.
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