#solarcyber

Jackie introduces Osiris and V to his mother the day they arrive. Mama Welles welcomes both boys with open arms and an easy smile. Bags get tossed to the side and the two of them get a small bed to share in Jackie’s room.

An easy routine falls into place. The three of them do gigs together. Sometimes it’s just two of them but, most of the time, the three of them get rolling. They work well together. Osiris is a home brew netrunner in easy terms. Quick to hack but even quicker on the draw. Jackie is their muscle, big and mean on jobs. V is the quickest on his feet and the best shot between the three of them.

Their payout for one is enough for V to get himself a new car that doesn’t sound like it’s about to explode any time they hit a bump. It’s fucking nice too. Sleek and black exterior with a nice dark interior to go with it. Perfect for their gigs.

They meet Misty not long after that. She’s just as sweet as Jackie had said. Osiris finds himself hanging out with her if V and Jackie are out on a gig by themselves.

Vik was preem. Osiris had hung back a bit when Jackie led them down to his shop. He had a bad past with docs. But Vik? Hell.. Vik was great. Apparently the old ripper was old friends with Jackie so that was an automatic layer of trust there.

But the guy found Osiris a cheap-ish replacement for the sorry excuse of an implant he had in place of an actual elbow. It wasn’t rusted and didn’t creak and cry whenever he bent it. It wasn’t long after that that Osiris had gone back to get both elbows, part of his forearms, and those damned top surgery scars replaced with chrome. Red and gold. Just what he wanted.

They spent six months living with the Welles before they’d saved enough for an apartment in Wattson. It was a megabuilding but neither of them could find it in them to care. They had a place of their own.

A bathroom, a nice big bed, a couch, stash room, desk.. What else could a couple of mercs need? They settle in nicely, decorate a bit and make it a proper home.

Posters hang on the wall, their favorite bands, movies. The mini fridge has a collection of energy drinks they pick from everyday. Shelves on the wall are lined with books and knickknacks they’ve collected in the six months they’ve been there. They’ve each a pillow on the bed though they tend to use each other more often.

Trees were almost as sparse as cars out here. Few and far between but that didn’t mean V and Osiris didn’t get their chance to mess around in them. 

Their favorite was just seeing who could reach the end of the tree patch first. They’d done it hundreds of times. Rain or shine, they’d be up in the branches, jumping from one to the next. 

It had been raining for a few days. They’d been told to stay out of the trees. Did they listen? Of course not. They were teens who had nothing better to do.

Osiris was ahead of V as they darted from tree to tree, laughing together as they raced. A wrong step, a slick pile of leaves, and a reaction time that was just a second too slow. 

The sound of a body crashing through countless branches and a shout of fear echoes off the trees. It was followed quickly by the sickening sound of a body hitting the ground and a loud snap. 

V feared the worse. He couldn’t climb down fast enough, couldn’t find where Osiris had landed fast enough. When he does, his heart drops to his stomach. 

Osiris is breathing, thank God, he’s breathing,  He’s covered in mud and leaves and his arm is bent unnaturally at his elbow, blood pouring from a gash hidden by his hair, but he’s alive. 

“Oh, fuck,” V breathes, already hauling an unconscious Osiris off the ground. He’s all dead weight and V struggles to get him in his arms without fucking his arm up further. 

Osiris’ parents were gonna kill them. 

He’s so careful about getting Osiris back to camp, to the clan’s ripperdoc. Or as V liked to call him, the grim reaper. Osiris’ survival was placed on the shoulders of one man and said man only had rusty tools and decade old parts to work with. It was a 50/50 chance if Osiris came out better than when he’d gone in. But it was all they had for the time being. At least until they got to NC where brand new parts weren’t a dime a dozen.

A chorus of his name and Osiris’ washes over him as soon as he steps foot into camp and everyone sees the state the younger is in. Osiris’ father takes him from V and rushes him to the ripper, V hot on his heels. 

V sits in a chair close to the table Osiris is laid out on, tunes out the buzz Osiris’ father’s tirade, and watches the doc carefully. 

Osiris’ hair is pushed up and away from his forehead so the doc can look at the gash. It’s somewhere in his hair. Fuck. Fingers shift through Osiris’ hair carefully so as to not jostle the injury anymore than it’s already been. Osiris’ body jerks when the ripper runs his fingers over the cut and V flinches. There’s an uneasy flutter in his chest and a dull throb in his head like he was feeling Osiris’ pain. He tries to shake it off as an electric razor it pulled out.

The quiet buzz of it echoes in V’s ears as the doc shaves part of his boyfriend’s head to get to the cut. V can already hear Osiris’ complaints about having his hair shaved. He loved his hair. Maybe more than he should, but hey, if it makes Osiris happy, it makes V happy.

The cut is deep, still bleeding though the flow has slowed down a bit. It’s nasty to look at. The doc goes through three cloths cleaning the wound, each one coming out a little less bloody than the previous. At least Osiris wasn’t conscious to feel it. 

Then out comes the stapler. V cringes a bit but luckily doesn’t have to watch as Osiris’ father steps in front of him. He can still hear each individual staple lock into Osiris’ skin, closing the wound back up. 

When Osiris’ father moves, there’s a white bandage over where the gash had been. 

Now the elephant in the room. The doc cringes as he tries to move Osiris’ arm only to hear the crunch of shattered bone. His elbow was fucked; likely beyond repair.

A long operation follows, the flash of a welding torch as the doc fixes a cybernetic elbow into Osiris’ arm lights up the room in intervals. It’s old -  likely second or even third hand. It’s not like anyone had the eddies for a brand spankin’ new one around here. As long as it was functional.. 

God is it ugly. Rusty, looks over a decade old, and looks ready to give anyone with an open cut an infection. God help the ripper if Osiris winds up with an infection from it.

Rust dusts the table as the ripperdoc shaves the part down a bit to better suit Osiris. Metal screeches against metal in an ear splintering symphony and V has to cover his ears to block out some of the sounds. 

Then, it’s done. The sounds stop, sparks stop flying, and the doc steps away from Osiris. The elbow sticks out like a sore thumb against his skin. The parts where skin meets metal is jagged and messy, skin already scarred. 

“The joint will need regular cleaning,” the ripper tells Osiris’ father as if that wasn’t obvious enough. “Too long without cleaning will make the rust worse and I don’t have a spare elbow.”

And I won’t salvage any elbows from the surplus of arms I have. 

The wind whips into the open window and pushes Osiris’ hair back and out of his face. Osiris has his arm dangling out the window, the flat of his palm facing the oncoming road. He likes to feel the pressure of the wind push against his hand.

The desert wind flies in hot but still manages to keep the sweat off of his brow. So long as they went over 70mph, the broken air conditioning didn’t matter. 

Then the dreaded clink of something on the car coming loose again. It happens so often now, it’s a fucking miracle the Rattler hasn’t keeled yet. 

V doesn’t react much beyond an annoyed pinch of his brows. He jerks the car right at the next junction, hits a pothole that had another bit of the car come loose in a much louder crash that makes Osiris chuckle. 

“Not gonna make it to NC at this rate,” he teases V, glancing over at his input. 

“Yeah, well,” V starts, nose scrunches before he forces himself to relax. “Just gonna pay a visit to a mechanic. Surely there’s one out here.”

“And hopefully they’re welcome of nomads,” Osiris adds with a slight sneer. He can’t count how many times they’d been turned away just because they were nomads. How many cops had chased them out of whatever small town they’d been able to come across. 

They wouldn’t be for long though. This gig was going to get them to Night City and then everything would start looking up. They’d shed the Bakker name completely and take on their own. 

The road flies past them, both of them on the lookout for a mechanic. Osiris spots it first. His Kiroshis were better. Minutely, but still better. 

“There,” he points out. “On your right.”

V acknowledges his words with a stiff nod and slows down enough so he doesn’t ram straight into the closed garage door. “It open?”

“Will be.” Osiris steps out and moves to the door and gives it a nice, loud rattle. It opens a couple seconds later to reveal an empty garage and an agitated mechanic. 

“What?” The man spits. 

Osiris jerks his head back towards the Rattler. “Need some work done.”

The mechanic takes one look at the Bakker patch on Osiris’ vest and looks like he’s going to sneer, probably tell ‘em to scram. He stops short when he sees the iron on the nomad’s hip. Osiris was never shy about how he carried his gun. 

Not that it was hard to miss. A deep red with gold accents that managed to catch the sun perfectly. It wasn’t a verbal threat but it was enough. 

“Tell ‘im to bring it in.”

With a wave of his hand, Osiris does just that. V backs into the garage before climbing out. His input is leaning against the wall next to a mirror and V approaches, his boots muffled against the concrete. 

The mirror was dusty. As expected out here in the desert. V uses his forearm to wipe it off and look at himself in it. He can see the mechanic leant over the open hood of his car. He sets the radio they’d brought on the corner of the sink. They needed it for the gig. 

Osiris sidles up behind him, pressing his face against V’s shoulder blade. V smiles. It’s small, barely noticeable, but Osiris always noticed. It brings one of his own to his face. V can feel it against the synthleather of his vest. 

The Bakker patch on his right breast is out of place now. They’d left the clan. It shouldn’t be on them. 

Osiris seemed to agree. The shorter reaches up, fingers picking at the edge of V’s patch. With a slight nod from V, he rips it off. 

V turns to return the favor, ripping Osiris’ patch off. He takes both patches and looks over them with a slight tilt of his head, running his thumb over the threads.

“Electric coupling modular.” The mechanic’s voice cuts through their little moment and Osiris sees V tense up. 

“You said it was nothing major when we came in. You said you were sure,” V grunts, already sounding irritated. He throws the patches to the side and lets them settle on the floor together. Osiris stays quiet and returns to his spot next to the mirror. 

He knew jack about cars. Knew how to keep one running but most repairs ever done had to be done by V. 

Osiris does grab the walkie talkie off the sink counter. He clips it onto his shoulder to keep both his hands free. 

“Guess I was wrong,” the mechanic says, looking to V who was moving back to the car. “Can always look for another shop where they won’t ask a couple of lone nomads why they’re huggin’ the border.”

Osiris barely holds back a huff. At least this guy isn’t actively chasing them out, rifle in hand. They’d had too much of that happen to them already. 

“I’m going to pay you what we agreed. Not one ‘enny more,” V says. He doesn’t stand still, rocking back on his heels as he speaks to the mechanic. 

The mechanic scoffs. “For that, you can borrow my tools and fix it yourself. Get your friend over there to help you,” he says, nodding towards where Osiris was leant. 

“That’s fine. Step aside.” V doesn’t give the mechanic a chance to listen before he’s shoving the man out of the way. Osiris knows what comes next. V would jostle some of the shit in the engine and the car would get them into NC. That’s all they needed. This gig would get them enough money that they could get a new car. 

“Got any idea what to do?” The mechanic asks, practically sneers at V. Osiris comes to stand over the engine as well now, watching V’s hands intently. 

The taller reaches for a wire on the right side of the car and jerks it out of its place. “I’m gonna bypass the coupling and rig a hotwire,” V says. 

“Compressor’ll run on and on. Could seize up,” the mechanic says, clearly not on board with what V’s trying to do. 

V doesn’t stop. He unplugs another wire that had been next to the coupling and plugs it in where the first one had gone. A spark flies but that’s it. No fire this time. 

“Did anyone ask your opinion?” V snarks at the mechanic. 

“V,” Osiris hisses quietly. His auditory systems had picked up the crunch of rock under a car tire. Only folks that’d be out here in this heat would be runaway nomads like themselves or a cop. 

Last thing they needed was a cop coming in to them harassing a mechanic. V seems to get the idea and pops the door to the car open to try to start it. 

It doesn’t start the first or second time but the third time works a charm. 

“Not shabby at all. Question’ll be how long it’ll last ya,” the mechanic says, doing the favor of closing the hood for V. Osiris, meanwhile, climbs back into the passenger seat so they could take off. 

“It’ll get me to Night City,” V says, hand on the steering wheel. Osiris takes the time to fiddle with the radio in the car, flitting through the stations available here. They were different from what they normally had. Which.. wasn’t a lot anyway. Mostly static out in the Badlands. “We’ll figure something else when we get there,” V finishes. 

The mechanic gives a skeptical ‘right’ and a shake of his head. 

V decides now is a good time to try to find their contact for the gig. “We’re looking’ for someone. Jackie Welles? Have you maybe-?”

The mechanic shakes his head again and Osiris lets out a quiet breath. ‘Course no one knew where Welles was. Osiris chews on his tongue, scrunches his nose a bit. He stops when he gets an elbow to the side and V offers him a piece of gum. 

V always kept a pack on him for Osiris’ little nervous ticks like that. “Thanks,” he mutters quietly, sticking the piece of gum in his mouth. Keeps him from chewing on his tongue and grinding his teeth. 

All of Osiris’ tinkering with the radio was for naught. His input reaches under the steering wheel and grabs the jack to hand it to Osiris. There’s a moment of confusion as the shorter takes it before it clicks in his head. 

He grabs the other radio off his shoulder and plugs it in, turning the knobs on the device to get a connection. 

“Antenna on this heap don’t seem like it packs a punch,” the mechanic comments. “Not liable to hear much.”

Osiris glances up to tell the mechanic to hush it but gets a glimpse of shoes under the garage door. Fuck it had been a cop earlier. 

He disconnects from the walkie as the cop lifts the garage door and leans back in his seat. V was better with shit like this. 

“Hey Mike. Didn’t know you had a customer,” the cop says. Osiris zooms in on the badge on his chest and scoffs quietly. 

“Sheriff, V,” he mumbles while the mechanic chats up the cop. 

“That what you got hissy with me with?” V asks with a little grin. 

“Mh-hm,” Osirjs hums back, reaching for his holster to stick his gun under his leg. “Car’s parked somewhere to the side,” he adds with a jerk of his head to the left. 

Their conversation ends there. The sheriff comes to the driver’s side door and leans against the top of it. He can’t get too close since the door is still open. 

“Don’t’cha know you owe the sheriff a word when you pay his town a visit?” The sheriff starts. Egotistical bastard. His town. Sure. “To tell ‘im what’s brought ya here, maybe even over a cup of coffee?”

“No need to worry. We won’t be stayin’ long,” V says, fingers flexing around the steering wheel. 

The sheriff had gorilla arm implants. Fingers and knuckles dark gray against the man’s skin. There’s little silver pads on each fingertip. Osiris can’t tell what they’re for. Built in taser, maybe? Wouldn’t make any sense though. 

His thoughts are pulled back to the sheriff with his next words. “Didn’t answer my question, now, did ya?”

There’s a tone to his words that sends an unpleasant tingle down Osiris’ spine. V doesn’t seem to get the same feeling though. He just glances over at his input with a self assured smile. 

“Name’s Andrew Jones. Probably heard of me,” the sheriff continues when neither nomad says anything. 

V sucks on his teeth before shaking his head. “I can’t say I have.”

The cops looks to Osiris expectantly and the shorter shakes his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell, no.”

The sheriff rolls his eyes and pushes off the car for a moment, eyes roving over the hood of the car. No doubt taking in the make and model. He leaned back against the car as he speaks again. “Served in spec ops during the last war. ‘Silver Shoguns’.. ring any bells?”

Now that one did. It just cements the cop’s egotistical attitude. Think he’s so above everything. 

“Can’t say that it does,” V answers. Osiris nods in agreement. He wasn’t going to boost this asshole’s ego. 

The cop mashes his hand on the roof of the car in response. “Don’t like to get along, do ya?”

He pushes off the car again and walks in front of it. Hikes his foot up on the front bumper too like he owned it. “That a nomad vehicle? Mighta expected that..”

Here they go again. V’s just as tired of it as Osiris is. “If you’ve got a problem, I’m willing to hear it,” V snips. He’s bordering on angry and Osiris knows they should just scram while they can. 

“Lemme tell ya what my problem is. Nothin’ boils my blood like a fuckin’ stray.”

V’s fingers twitch around the steering wheel. Osiris’ twitch and he goes to reach for his gun that’s still tucked under his leg. It would be so easy to pull it and blast the damned cop’s head off. 

He gets a nasty side eye from V that stops him. 

“Where’d your clan pitch camp?” The sheriff asks.

“You one of those who believe everything the talking heads say? That nomads are the world’s greatest evil?” V asks. It’s sarcasm and Osiris barely holds back an amused huff at his words. He actually has to look away ‘cause he sees V turn to look at him and he knew they’d both wind up giggling if they made eye contact.

“No. I’m a man that respects order. Corps brought us that order..” Osiris tunes the sheriff out. Corpo boot licker this guy was. Out here in the middle of butt fuck nowhere talking ‘bout how corps we’re the greatest thing in the world.

V echoes that sentiment aloud. Talking about the cop being leashed like a mutt. Disposable to any corpo worth a damn. The question is asked again. Slow and agitated. “Where is your clan.”

“There is no clan, there is no camp. We’re here alone,” V says with a slight roll of his eyes. It was missable if you didn’t know V very well. Luckily, they’d been together for 16 years at this point. Together together for 8.

The sheriff is, obviously, skeptical. “Ain’t buyin’ it. Nomads always stick to their packs.”

“Family’s in pieces. It’s why we’re headed for NC,” Osiris chimes in, voice a bit rougher than normal. Fuck, he needed some water.

“Makes you outcasts among outcasts.” The sheriff smirks a bit as he says it. “Sure as hell hope you’ll be on your way before long.”

“Saw a broadcast and comms towers on my way in. Our antenna’s down and I need to radio someone,” V says, jerking his head in the general direction the tower was in. 

The sheriff pushes off the fender, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his pants as he approaches the car door again. “What you fellas need to do is hightail outta here without another word. Ain’t got no mind to see you driftin’ around these parts. Got it?”

“You like the sound of your voice, don’t you?” V clips out as he closes the door.

“V!” Osiris snipes, knocking V in the knee with a couple of his knuckles. Leave it to V to antagonize the fuck. V just grins at him, toothy and lopsided. It makes his input roll his eyes before sitting back in his seat. “Tower.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going,” V chuckles, already pulling out of the shop with a lurch. 

The tower is less than 30 seconds away from the shop. Osiris stays next to the car while V climbs it to get a connection. All this shit just to find a contact. Talk about inconvenience. 

He absentmindedly runs his fingers over the rusty metal of his elbow, already thinking about the new implants he could get once inside the city. Maybe he’d make them the same color as his pistol. Deep red and gold. V had gifted him that pistol a long time ago. Still one of the best presents he’d ever gotten in his 24 years on Earth.

He’d get his top surgery scars chromed over too. Fuckin’ doc who did them was high as balls and fucked them up. The scars left behind were jagged and crooked, ugly to look at. V thinks otherwise. He always whispers about how pretty they are, how perfect they are. Osiris still hates them. 

Osiris hums quietly along to the song playing on the radio. Samurai. One of his top bands. Never Fade Away plays and Osiris glances towards the distant Night City. The (still living) members of Samurai still lived there. Kerry and Denny had mansions in North Oak and Henry was.. probably back in rehab.

He’s lost in thought at this point and doesn’t hear V coming back down until he’s right in front of him and pulling him into a kiss. Osiris startles at first before cupping V’s face to return it. Slow and languid. V only did it to bring Osiris back to the present.

“Welles is waiting for us on a farm. McCoy got me the geoloc,” V says, pressing a lingering kiss to Osiris’ cheek before letting go. They both slip back into the Rattler easily.

“McCoy tell you not to call again?”

“Yup.”

They share a quiet chuckle as V pulls back out onto the road and takes off towards the farm. It sits out a bit from the rest of the little town which makes sense considering it was a farm.

“On your left,” Osiris says as they come up on it. The decrepit building nearly blended in with the landscape. Browns and tans and grays. They very well could’ve missed it. 

V steps into the farmhouse first and glances both ways. 

“Oh, I was worried I’d have to turn to farming,” their contact says, voice full of amusement. It was a welcome sound after their run in with the sheriff. Osiris steps in once V moves and looks to his left where V had moved.

Jackie was a hunk of a man. His shoulders were easily wider than both Osiris and V’s and the nomad had an inkling Welles might have 8+ inches on him. He had a big bulky jacket on that seemed just a bit out of place in the Cali desert. Underneath was a tank that seemed a bit more appropriate. Jeans and boots were commonplace out here so it didn’t surprise Osiris much that Jackie was wearing them. What caught his attention, however, was the image plastered on the left pant leg on his shin. 

He recognized it from screamsheets. Santa Muerte. This guy was with the NC Valentinos. But he’s smiling, a kind thing that doesn’t make Osiris’ skin crawl strangely enough. 

“Preem, you’re both here. Ehh.. sure hope you’re here for me,” Jackie continues, looking the two nomads up and down. 

“Are you Welles?” V asks quite pointedly. Osiris leans against the wall next to the door, watching the two in front of him. 

“Er, Jackie, por favor.” Polite, at least. 

V nods in response. “I’m V and that,” he jerks his head back towards Osiris who offers a small wave, “is Oz. Seems you have cargo that needs moved.”

“Well, where I’m from, you share a bit about your soul before you talk biz, eh?” Jackie interrupts, looking between V and Osiris a couple times. “It’s kind of like a custom. Or just good manners, y’know?”

First Osiris has heard of that but then again, maybe NC was different about that kind of shit.

V doesn’t seem as convinced. “You’re a man of principle?” He asks, clearly surprised. 

Jackie nods and that seemingly perpetual smile on his face widens a bit more. “You need a backbone, cabron. At least you’ll have that left when they’ve taken everything else.”

Neither nomad acknowledges the words. “Let’s start with you, then,” Osiris says, scratching idly at his cheek. V throws him a glare and he removes his hand immediately.

Jackie either doesn’t notice the exchange or decides not to comment on it. “NC native, right here. Got Heywood in my blood.”

Heywood streetkid. No wonder he was rolling with the Valentinos. Smart kid. Or maybe he was born into it. Osiris didn’t ask.

“I’ve never been to NC,” V says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t mean much to me.”

“So, imagine a place where everyone’s like your bro or sis, or a distant cousin, at least,” Jackie says, chuckling quietly near the end. It could’ve passed as something a nomad would’ve said. Maybe they weren’t so different. 

V laughs quietly himself. “I think I understand. You don’t have to like each other, but it’s family.”

“That’s Heywood. That, and everyone’s packin’ iron.”

Yeah, definitely could’ve passed as a nomad family.

Jackie pushes the topic. “And you two?” 

“I guess.. one could say I’m from my own Heywood,” V says, real nice and slow. “We both are, really.”

“More or less,” Osiris agrees with a quiet chuckle. He didn’t start with the Bakkers like V did. He’d been born out east, in the old Midwest area. They jumped from place to place, never really belonging anywhere until they found the Bakkers. 

“Oh yeah, we’re gonna get along fine,” Jackie grins, pointing between the two nomads. When his finger lowers, he kicks the box his foot had been propped up on away a bit. “The cargo.”

Osiris, surprisingly, was the first to speak up. “What’s inside?”

He’s met with a shake of Jackie’s head and he huffs quietly. “You sleep better the less you know. Got no idea myself, and that’s a good thing,” Jackie says, explaining it to Osiris like this was his first gig. 

“You don’t know what we aim to smuggle? These are stolen corporate goods,” V says.

Corporate goods, AKA, execution if they’re caught. Osiris just hopes it isn’t some corp like Arasaka. 

“‘Stolen’?” Jackie repeats with a low chuckle. “Naw. Some gonk lost the crate, some other gonk found it, passed it on. Now it’s here. Y’know, butterfly effect or whatever.”

“No one’s looking for it?” The shorter asks, rubbing a hand over his face, over his stubble. “No one at all?”

“Ain’t a problem if they look. Only a problem if they find it before it crosses the border, no?”

Dear God they were doomed. “Let’s get it loaded up, then,” Osiris sighs. “I’ll take backseat. Keep a lookout.”

Osiris slips out the door while Jackie grabs the case. He pops the trunk when he passes it before climbing into the backseat and making himself comfy draped long ways on it. The car shakes a bit as Jackie loads the cargo inside. Shakes even more as the tank of a man climbs into the passenger seat. V slips into the driver’s seat and peels out of the farm.

“Do you have the manifest from the transport?” V asks. Osiris doesn’t pick up their conversation much. He’s busy watching out the back window, his auditory system tuned for outside noises rather than voices.

V takes the first right fast and it has Osiris squished against the door almost uncomfortably. He can faintly hear a muffled apology from the other nomad and acknowledges it with a low hum. 

Border control comes up quick after that. V gradually slows down before stopping completely to wait for the car in front of them to finish their inspection. Once parked, Osiris tunes back into voices for the time being.

“Remain in your vehicle. The security check will begin shortly.” The voice rings about the small area, firm and dripping with that ‘I’m superior’ tone. Osiris rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back against his window with a dull thump.

“I got a real bad feelin’ about this..” Jackie mutters. It would’ve been amusing how quick Jackie had gone from cocky Heywood streetkid to nervous bundle in any other situation. But now? Not now. These corpo goons are like piranhas if they catch you nervous.

V’s the one to voice it. “You know they’ll notice if you’re nervous, right?”

“More likely to search the car if they see its occupants squirming,” Osiris adds with a small nod. “Relax. ‘S all normal so far.”

Jackie visibly forces himself to relax, nodding either in agreement or understanding. “Right, right, yeah..”

V holds his hand out for Jackie who seems confused at first before V huffs out, “Hand me the manifest. They’ll need to see it.”

Realization lights in Jackie’s eyes and he reaches in the door to grab the manifest. Osiris sits up to look at it with V and rolls his eyes with an agitated huff at the three big letters at the top. “LOA. ‘Course.”

“What’s that mean?” Jackie asks.

“Lost on Arrival. It means the cargo was flagged as “to be lost” as soon as it crossed the border,” V explains. 

It seems to click in Jackie’s mind pretty quick. “So they know we’re smuggling?”

“They will,” Osiris scoffs quietly. “Fuckin’ preem.” God he wishes he had a cig right now. “Babe,” he starts. V hands him a second piece of gum immediately. Osiris hums his thanks.

“The owner of the vehicle in the inspection area will report for further questioning.”

Jackie groans quietly. “Chingada madre.. What now?”

“Procedures. Nothing new,” Osiris hums in answer. “Still all good, relax.”

“Hey, guess you two know what you’re doin’, huh?”

“Surprised you don’t. Said you were born in Heywood. This your first time out here?” Osiris asks.

Before Jackie could answer, V starts talking. “If we want the customs office to turn a blind eye to our dubious docus, we’ll need a sweetener. Do you have the credit chip with the bribe?” 

Jackie laughs nervously and reaches into his pocket to pull out a purple and blue cred chip. “Oh.. yeah. Heh, forgot about that.”

V takes the chip with a scoff. “Right. You ‘forgot’.”

No one comments further. V climbs out of the car to head into the building, leaving Jackie and Osiris in the car. They keep the engine going. A precaution.

Once V gets inside, Jackie turns to Osiris. “Babe?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Inputs,” Osiris says dismissively. His gum is losing its flavor already. He needs to carry a pack of his own.

“How long?” Jackie had crawled into the driver’s seat to pull the Rattler up a bit more to wait for V.

“Last month was eight years.”

Jackie whistles lowly and they climb out of the car. “Damn. Eight years? Really?”

Osiris leans against his door, crossing his feet to knock his heel against his shin. “Mh-hm. You got an input of your own?”

Jackie brightens up a bit. “I do! Got me a girl in Wattson.”

“How long?” Osiris asks. His face had softened as Jackie went on about his girlfriend. It was sweet to see this muscle of a man get so gushy about his input. Jackie had been with his girl, Misty, for almost a year. In fact, their year anniversary was coming up within the next couple weeks. Jackie had a whole date planned for them, probably using the money from this gig to pay for it.

They only got to chat for a few minutes before V came out. He’s got this slight furrow to his brow that makes Osiris tense up. “What happened in there?” Jackie asks. He gets in the driver’s seat again. V climbs into the passenger and Osiris gets back in the backseat.

“I’ll tell you soon. We need to get outta here,” V says, his voice urgent.

It’s all Osiris needs to hear to pull his gun from his holster again and lay it in his lap. Jackie clearly catches sight of it because his eyebrows jump and he whips around to him. “What is–?”

“Don’t matter. Drive,” V interrupts impatiently.

Jackie acquiesces but doesn’t seem able to keep  his mouth shut. “You gonna tell me what happened back there? Why your input’s got his gun out?”

“A customs dickhead got nitpicky,” V says.

“That ain’t normal?” Jackie asks in turn. Makes sense since everything else had been going to plan. 

V gives a small shake of his head. “Not to that extent.”

“Smellin’ trouble ‘round the bend?” Jackie continues.

“Drive, Jackie, just drive.”

They don’t get very far. “Arasaka vehicles coming our way,” Osiris says, eyes flashing blue for a moment to scan the oncoming cars. He can’t hack into them. Won’t even try. Their ICE would fry him in an instant. But he’s checking for outside weapons. There are none. Good, these aren’t heavy hitters.

“Maybe they’re not for us?” Jackie tries with a nervous laugh. 

Two of the cars from the convoy turn in front of them. So much for it not being for them. “Stop your vehicle immediately!” 

They test the offroading capabilities of the Rattler. Jackie veers left hard and they hit a bump doing downhill towards all of the solar panels.

The Arasaka trucks follow. “You are transporting contraband that is corporate property. I repeat - stop the car!”

V clambers to lean out his window to shoot at the oncoming goons. “Jackie, roll my window down,” Osiris barks.

“Why can’t you do it?” Jackie asks even as he presses the button to get it down.

“Button back here is broken,” Osiris gets out before he’s leaning out as well to shoot behind them. He and V gun down the ‘Saka fire power easily.

They blow the first car up quick. The second car had a reinforced hood so Osiris changed tactics and shot out the front tire instead. That car veers into an electrical box and blows up as well. The third was just as easy as the first. However, a stray bullet rips up Osiris’ forearm.

He curses loudly and slips back inside the Rattler to find a cloth to wrap around the wound. V winds up getting the final shots on the vehicle. V climbs back into the car as they pass through a garage door. The Rattler bounces terribly as it goes through but they’re free.

“Mierda, close call,” Jackie pants out as they get back on the road. “We lost them.”

V glances back to look at his input and his eyes widen when he sees the blood soaked cloth. “Oz-”

“Jus’ surface,” Osiris interrupts quickly. “Bullet fucked off somewhere on the road. I’ll be fine.”

V doesn’t believe him and he knows they’re going to a ripper as soon as they get within city limits. It won’t be tonight though, evident when Jackie pulls them off the road and into a deserted garage.

He crashes the front end into the wall of the garage and gets out cursing. V gets out next and practically hauls Osiris out and pulls the cloth away from his arm to get a look at his injury. It really wasn’t awful. The cloth had been thin so his blood bled through it pretty quick even at the slow pace it’s collecting at. 

Still, V rummages around the garage to look for gauze while he and Jackie talk. Osiris, meanwhile, leans up against the car, tilting his arm this way and that to look at his injury. 

“They almost tagged our asses! That what you call smugglin’?!” Jackie snaps at them. “It was supposed to go smooth. No problems.”

“Calm down,” V starts. He’s cleaning the blood from Osiris’ arm with a clean rag he (somehow) managed to find. “Sometimes these things happen.”

“This?! What kinda shit happens?!”

“Border security probably tipped off the corp that we had their shit,” Osiris says. He winces when V dabs a bit of alcohol over the wound, his fingers twitching against his palm.

Jackie is pacing angrily down the small length of the garage. “What’s the deal with these borderlies flippin’ us the finger as they fuckin’ please?! With no consequences!”

“He took a risk. He assumed we didn’t have a clan backing up,” V says. “And he was right.” He’s starting to get snappy too and tightens the gauze around Osiris’ arm a bit too tight. He loosens it almost immediately with a quiet apology. 

“Pff.. Pendejamente ridículo..” Jackie mutters, leaning back against the garage door and crossing his arms over his chest. The red brake lights of the Rattler illuminate his legs. Brightest light in the small space. “So what now?”

“We’ve crossed the border. Now you pay us, and we go our separate ways,” V says, tying off the gauze and giving Osiris’ arm a gentle pat. 

Jackie’s tone changes immediately. “Uh, I ain’t gonna lie.. I’m a bit light. I can’t pay you now. Have somethin’ for you once I collect my scrap for this corpo crap we’re carryin’.”

“Preem,” Osiris grumbles, reaching into V’s pocket for his pack of gum. He’s only got two pieces left. He’ll need to buy more.

“And you just figured we’d sit by patiently,” V scoffs, rolling his shoulders in annoyance. This was just getting better and better. 

“Actually wasn’t going to pay you at all. Was just gonna bust ass and disappear soon as we crossed over. But..You guys are all right.”

V looks to Osiris who shrugs. “Least he’s honest?” What else were they supposed to do? Couldn’t exactly scram with no eddies at this point.

“I appreciate the honesty,” V says with a short nod as he turns back to Jackie. 

“Ah, thanks,” Jackie says with an awkward grin.

They stand in silence for a few uncomfortable beats before Jackie pushes off the door and pops the trunk of the Rattler. “Let’s have a look inside this box.”

“Thought you said it was best we didn’t know what was inside,” Osiris points out even as he and V approach the car. 

“Yeah, well, changed my mind,” Jackie grins. Osiris leant up against the car next to Jackie while V steps around the man to get to the box. “Open it,” Jackie encourages. 

V presses on the screen and it lights up with Arasaka. “Aw shit. It says Arasaka on the crate.. We are robbing some heavy hitters.”

“No wonder they showed up like they did,” Osiris hums. “Maybe we’ll make some heavy money selling it.”

As he speaks, Jackie pops open the crate. Once the proceeding mist clears up, they get a good view of what’s inside. “¡No mames! A real iguana!,” Jackie breathes out. “A, uh, Lesser Antillean, I think.”

“Lesser Antil-what?” V asks, clearly confused. It mirrors Osiris’ own confusion.

“Yeah! Watched a thing on TV about ‘em. Went extinct like thirty years ago. They’re from the Lesser Antilles. You’ve come a long way, my scaly friend.”

“Explains the name,” Osiris says. “So Arasaka just has one in their freezer? No wonder they wanted it back.”

V perches himself on the little jut of the trunk and reaches down to poke the lizard. As expected, it doesn’t move. Might be dead. “You think you can make some money on it?” V asks.

“Sure. Think it’ll make us happy.”

“Us?” V asks, an eyebrow shooting up at Jackie’s word choice. 

“Yeah, partners. We’ll go halfsies. Er.. thirdsies? You two split or share your money?”

“Share,” V and Osiris say at the same time. Osiris continues on his own though. “Plan to live together once in NC. No reason to not share.”

Jackie grins again. “Preem. Any decent fixer’ll find a loaded gonk interested in a rare gem like this.” Then his eyes get all sad as he looks back down at the critter. He looks like a kicked puppy like that. “It’s kind of a shame though… I always wanted a pet. Got the name Manny all thought out. Hey, by the way… you, uh, got any plans for what you’ll be doin’ in Night City?”

“We don’t have any formal plans. Spent the last years travelin’ between states with our nomad family,” V says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Ah, prolly be waitin’ for you somewhere, eh?” 

“No. We decided to go our separate ways,” Osiris chimes in. “Not with them anymore.”

“That must be tough, huh? Havin’ no one to go back to?”

Osiris’ nose scrunches a bit and he looks away. Yeah, the family had been close but lately it had just been pushing bad memories to the forefront for Osiris. He’d been more than happy to leave with V when they joined up with that Snake Nation. 

“But don’t you worry. Lemme help you guys find digs. You gotta live somewhere,” Jackie continues. “‘S important to have people you can turn to. Y’know, like, uh, family. Maybe you’ll find your own down in Night City.”

That was the hope for them. They had each other, of course, but having others would never be a bad idea. And maybe Jackie was the start of that.

“Thanks, much appreciated,” V says. Osiris hums quietly in agreement. This was nice. Jackie and V go to shake on it and the lizard, which Osiris had truly thought dead, climbs up onto V’s lap like a puppy.

V startles with a loud hey! but seems to settle back down when the iguana just sits there.

“Aww, cuddly little fucker,” Jackie coos. Surprisingly, he doesn’t reach out to pet it. Maybe it was a good thing though because when V and Jackie actually manage to shake hands, the thing hisses at Jackie. It makes Osiris laugh, a sound he quickly tries to cover with a cough when Jackie spares him a glance.

Pre-Game Timeline

A Wrong Step ( ~2070 )

Game Timeline