“So what do you know about Hansen?” Songbird asked me, appearing across from me as the elevator ascended to street level.

  “Just what they wrote in the screamsheets. Came out of nowhere and successfully established a beachhead in April 2070. And he just… never left. International arms dealer in bed with multinational corporations and the elite who can afford his services.”

  “Mhm, you mentioned that before. Anything else?” Her voice was slightly more irritable.

  “Not much.” I’m not entirely certain how much I ought to reveal to this woman. Hell, I’m still not certain that I’m not walking into a trap. She had plenty of opportunities to kill me so far, but I’m not convinced that this is even a real mission to begin with. I suppose I should be thankful that she even got me into Dogtown in the first place; at least I’m out of Arasaka’s eyes for now. But who was Songbird? Is this supposed ‘Space Force One’ mission even real? Or am I going to open this door and see a whole platoon’s worth of BARGHEST waiting for me? Hell if I know.

  I double-checked my weapon for ammo as we rose up to the stadium, still not fully trusting a word out of this woman’s mouth. “Where’d you get that thing, anyway? Looks like an old M16, but it’s all… different?”

  “I got it from my backpack,” I replied sardonically as the door opened – no one. Good news… Check the corners… No one. Not a soul. Interesting…

  I did hear something in the distance… a low rumble… People walking around. A lot of people, by the sound of it. What was this place, some sort of storeroom…? “Alright, up the stairs to your left, wise-ass… heh… Should take you out to the market floor.”

  “Understood.” I peered through the left-hand side door, following the voices echoing through the bowels of the stadium. These people had it all – dozens of cybernetic limbs hung from the ceiling like racks of meat. The middle was dominated by a sparking, malfunctioning Octant drone… quite the hardware to just leave around the place for anyone to appropriate. “What do you know about this place? The market.” I asked Songbird as I idly looked around the room.

  “That you can buy anything you want, legal or otherwise – just make sure to keep an eye on your pockets.” Good advice… Sounds like she’s speaking from experience. I wonder if she’s ever been here before, or somewhere like this?

  I guess I should be more concerned with my own state of affairs right now… Fine, let’s just put Yorinobu’s gun away. I already forgot its actual name… God, I’m crap. Whatever. Just get this done, V. All they need is an extraction. You’ve performed dozens of extractions. Certainly from worse places. Hell, if Myers found herself in the Middle East during Operation Dead Summer? Yeah, she’d have all sorts of fun bundling up in a lead-lined HAZMAT suit weighing around fifty kilos. ‘You have to get it on in a minute or less,’ they said. I’d like to see those old fucks get their underwear on in a minute or less, let alone a lead suit…

  Hm… commotion seems to be coming from the other side of these cyberarms… What’s…

  Oh…

  Oh wow…

  Welcome to Dogtown, I suppose… What an entrance… She wasn’t kidding when they said they had everything. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised to find real meat here. Or another strange prototype sword, or strange prototype handgun-rifle thing. And it was packed, all sorts of items littered throughout the entire floor. I guess that makes sense, considering they manufacture their own weaponry as well. Not that that's an open invitation for people like me - corpos are famously 'not allowed' in Dogtown. Though no one seemed to bat an eye at my presence. Hm, maybe it's just, 'Don't be a disruptive corpo?'

  The more I looked, the more impressive it became. Frankly, it looked more like a stock market than an old stadium walkway. People shouting over one another for the best deals, raising their ration cards over their heads, BARGHEST soldiers lining the main avenues in a delicate balance to keep the peace… If anything, I felt like this was the Concrete River all over again. It certainly had the same smell to it.

  Man, this place has everything… Might actually be a good opportunity to score some upgrades for my equipment. Let’s check it out…

  “…Last Minotaur in-stock! Manual, setup, everything’s included, get it while it’s hot!” a woman shouted over the crowd, beckoning people to a massive gun shop. ‘Massive’ in the sense that the shop itself was massive… and it was selling massive guns. Hell, I’ve never seen a setup this comprehensive, ever. Scars would be frothing at the mouth poring over this stuff.

  “What do you have?” I asked the gentleman at the counter. He looked more like a walking billboard than a man, with half of his body seemingly made up of gun parts, and the other half of whatever it was that held those gun parts together in a manner resembling a humanoid. With no jaw to speak of, he instead used a syn-voice to bark out a charismatic, light-hearted tone.

  “Eeeyy, sister! Tell you what – if you want somethin’ I don’t got, I’d be mighty impressed, heh. Got one of the preemest selections in all of Dogtown!” Normally I’d think such a statement was an exaggeration, but in this case? This guy wasn’t kidding.

  “So I see…” I openly gawked at the fucking armory behind him, “Okay, I have to ask… How do you keep track of all this stuff?”

  “Wha? Oh, that’s easy. Got ‘em all jacked into me! Don’t worry, Army. Won’t be any accidents or misplaced merch today!” he said with a childish laughter, “Cool, huh? And if you think that’s cool, check this shit out!”

  He raised his arm up and– okaaay, yeah, he has a fucking flamethrower in his elbow? Part of me wants to ask why. But another part has to concede – yeah, this is pretty cool. “So wait, you’re jacked into every gun here?”

  “That’s right!” he flicked me a couple of fingers and I heard some of the guns cock and decock repeatedly… Impressive…

  “And, uh… How? Isn’t that dangerous? Like, aren’t you worried about overloading, or…?”

  “Heh… overloading? W-Who said anything about that?” he stuttered sarcastically, “No, I-I’m not afraid!”

  And… And now he’s dancing. Okay, this guy is awesome. I couldn’t help but smile and giggle as I watched this absolute gem at work.

  “So, uh, you interested?” he finally stopped, though his voice remained chipper as ever, “Look like you’ve got a taste for swords. How’s about somethin’ a little more your speed? Heh… Check this out.” He reached under the counter, producing– wait, what?!

  “I– where did you get this?!”

  “Hey now, a good merchant never reveals his sources,” he said whimsically, “Judgin’ by that art on your back, I’d say this is prolly within your price range.”

  “I… uhm…” I paused and swallowed a bit, “I-is that–”

  “Top-grade katana. Check it out.”

  I gently picked it up… no… This– this was Saburo Arasaka’s personal katana?! Jesus fucking Christ, I thought this thing was lost with the Delamain cab… “How much are you asking?”

  “Ahh… Curious, are we? Can give it away for…” he thought, having a look at me, “Let’s say, five hundred.”

  “…Thousand?”

  “Hey now, it look like a five hundred eddie blade to you?” In combat, it was worth about that much, as I recall… But for Saburo Arasaka’s personal weapon, that was a bargain.

  “Deal,” I said immediately, not even trying to negotiate, “As long as it has the saya along with it.”

  “Course it does, for that price? Hell, can get the thing coated in solid gold if you wanted!” he laughed… Well, there goes a good chunk of my savings right there…

  Fucking hell, I can’t believe I found this thing again… “Alright, here’s your money,” I said eagerly, handing him a cred chip coded to a half-million eds, “I’m a bit encumbered at the moment, so can you keep this under the table until I get back?”

  “Shit, you just bought out half the goddamn store, lady! Can put it in my ass if that’s your thang!” Alright, good to know…

  Time to move… Afternoon’s not getting any younger. Let’s see what else this place has in stor– wait, what’s up with the TV? Oh… it’s him… “This is Kurt Hansen. If you’re hearing this, you’ve come to the right place. NCPD, gang wars… Not in Dogtown…” Wow, this guy loves the sound of his own voice, doesn’t he… “Taxes? Who the fuck needs ‘em. In Dogtown, I keep your business safe, as long as you abide by my rules.” Yeah, what rules are those… “Sound fair to you? I thought so. Good.”

  Well he’s certainly a… uh, character. Though overall, I had to admit that I was expecting less courtesy from people. I made no secret that I was very obviously a soldier, and a heavily-armed one at that, yet no BARGHEST even so much as batted an eye. In fact they were downright polite by the standards I was expecting. Most corpo private security I’ve dealt with weren’t nearly as courteous, often directing people to keep their distance at all times – rudely, usually. Soldiers were cut from a different cloth, typically, much more like these people. I suppose it makes sense, seeing as Hansen himself is an ex-colonel. He probably engenders a very similar brotherhood mentality into his forces.

  I certainly had to hand it to Hansen, though – I might not like the guy, but he has a hell of a setup here. Fuck me… to think that if he hadn’t come along, it’d have been our Armored that created Dogtown. Then it probably would’ve ended up as a second Arasaka Waterfront or something… I never much cared for that place, either. Too… sterile. Lifeless. This place simply oozed character by comparison. The shops seemed to stretch on and on… it truly was no exaggeration. I could probably buy a spacecraft from here, or a submarine or something, if I had the money… Shit, I feel lighter already after dropping a half a million on a fucking sword. But God, what a sword it is…

  Wait… is… is that a butcher shop?!

  Oh my God, it is…

  I immediately walked in, the walls lined with syn-meat of every variety. But I had my eyes on a different prize…

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Can I ask…” I said humbly as I approached the counter, “Do you have any real meat here?”

  “What, you mean, from animals?” the clerk, a gangly Jamaican man, scoffed at me, “Don’t be ridiculous.” Yeah… I guess that is a lot to ask…

  “Okay, thanks anyway…” I sighed, my emergency rations looking plenty tasty right about now… For some reason I felt unusually drained. Did I eat too little earlier today? Probably… Having trouble remembering. Eh, whatever, if my body says I didn’t have enough, then I didn’t have enough.

  Ah, there’s the BARGHEST hospitality I’ve been expecting…

  “A li’l klep n’ run, huh?” one of the soldiers shouted, bashing the whimpering man with his knee, “Forget where you are, Malkovich? Might be able to get away with that sorta shit in Watson. Wanna do it here? Fuck you.”

  “N-n-n-no! Please! It-it’s not what it looks like!” the guy pleaded, scrambling into the corner.

  “Really? Get that glitter from the charity box then, did you?”

  Mm, I see that druggies are just as prevalent here. That makes more sense…

  Christ, is it all like this? Dogtown… it’s…

  It’s not that bad, actually. I mean, it was worn as old jeans, but it was incredibly functional. Why on Earth does everyone make it out like this is Hell on Earth? Have they never heard of Saudi Arabia or something?

  Regardless, I really should find some food. I imagine this place has a hell of a diverse palette. Already passed by a syn-sushi stand, a taco place, a burger joint… about four others, all serving random niche culinary foods. Kind of want to try this thing they call ‘pierogi,’ they seem interesting…

  God damn, is that another giant gun store?! How many guns do they have?! Dogtown’s indigenous manufacturers must back these places… I can’t imagine how else people would supply their shops this comprehensively. This place must have at least a dozen copies of every popular service weapon on the display racks alone… hundreds of firearms, just laying on the ground. This wasn’t a gun shop, it was a full-on expo.

  “Impressive selection,” I complimented the shop owner as I walked in, “Looks like enough firepower to arm this whole stadium twice-over.”

  “Heh, indeed,” the woman at the counter spoke frankly, “Whether it’s for personal use or you have your own private army, we’ve got you covered. Like to think that if you ever found yourself in an arms race, we believe in helping you across the finish line.” Hell of a tagline…

  “I’ll bear that in– uhm… oh…” I eyeballed a gorgeous specimen off to my right… Holy shit. Where the fuck did these people get this stuff?! “I-is that a… Wow…”

  I carried the handgun over to the register, gently placing it down on the table. “Ah… Good eye. Kimber Rapide. Hell of a gun… Most of them crapped out ages ago. Someone saved this one, though. Tin-coated barrel, match sights, the works. Looks like you got the specs to handle it.” Oh, I like this place… I could live here…

  “I’ll take it.”

  –

  Okay, I must admit that pierogis are way better than I thought… They tasted like dumplings, but… different. Strange, but not in a bad way. And I still can’t wrap my head around this power supply. It’s genius… using the power from a downed AeroZep to run this whole place?

  Hell, I still remember when this beast came down, it was just after the war had ended. Hansen fired a whole battery of missiles up and took the beast down like it was Moby Dick, and they’ve been harvesting its oil ever since. Apparently it had hundreds of folding chairs aboard… That and a gigantic fission engine. One that could feasibly power all of Dogtown for a hundred years. Quite the accomplishment, albeit one that came at the price of pissing off all of the NUSA, considering it was their property. Though I suppose they already did that, so why not just run with it…

  Songbird appeared alongside me, looking over the balcony at the wrecked craft. “So tell me, V, is it really that bad? The Relic.”

  “You should already know the answer to that, I took this job, after all…” I frowned, “Sorry, that’s a bit unfair.”

  “No, it’s… understandable. It’s not something I wanted, either… None of this was.”

  I sensed there was more under the hood there. “None of what?”

  “Just… Hansen. Dogtown. This whole… sordid affair. Sorry this’s happenin’ to you, that’s all.”

  I thought on her words for a few moments. “We’re all victims of our own circumstances. A sentiment that seems truer the more scars one has.”

  “That’s… quite philosophical for a merc,” Songbird said with an impressed smile, “Take it you know from experience?”

  “Heh, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I joked with her.

  “Oh, I’m not that easy,” she retorted cheekily, “So how ‘bout it? You know a bit about what I do for a living. What about you?”

  “Like you said, I’m a merc. Simple.”

  “Bah, no no,” she scoffed at me, “No merc carries themselves the way you do. You’ve got history.”

  “Don’t we all?” I teased her right back, “But okay, I suppose that’s fair. I’m career military – retired, I should add. I was a captain in Arasaka Security Services. Then someone at the company betrayed me, and I barely escaped with my life. Wound up a mercenary, got the Relic in my head, think you can connect the dots from there.” I removed my beret, glancing down at the three stars resting on the bar, denoting my rank. She couldn’t see that I was wearing it otherwise. No cameras in here for her to hack into, clearly.

  “A cap– damn. That’s… quite the track record,” she admitted, apparently slightly alarmed, “Betrayed by your own company… Wow… that’s… strange.”

  “Why?”

  I could tell she zoned out for a second there. “Nothing, just reminds me of someone, that’s all. Tch, guess it’s a pretty common story, huh?”

  “Corps have a nasty habit of not concerning themselves with their employees’ affairs,” I shrugged indifferently, “Figure that neither of us would be in our positions if they did. Me with this ticking bomb in my head, you being forced to land in Dogtown… Make any headway there, speaking of which?”

  “Not really… Think the signal’s comin’ from somewhere within Dogtown, but can’t pinpoint it, exactly.”

  “How much time do you have left?”

  “Should be here within the hour,” she said, looking up at the sky, “We’ll be comin’ in over the water. Current trajectory’s lookin’ like we’ll end up somewhere by Terra Cognita to the south. This big abandoned technology expo. Militech was plannin’ on showcasing all their shiny new gadgets there. Plant and animal cloning, advanced cybernetics, cheaper space colonization–”

  “Hah, that’d be the day,” I laughed out loud, drawing some errant eyes from passersby, “You know that’s not likely to happen in our lifetimes.”

  “Hey, never say never. ‘Sides, yours is about to get a hell of an extension in a few hours if I got anythin’ to say about it. Chin up, we’re in this together.” Glad to see she’s honoring the deal, at least.

  “I suppose we should make preparations?” I suggested, “Should I head down to Terra Cognita now?”

  “Not yet – I’m fightin’ them,” she replied with determination, “They’re tryin’ to divert us to the stadium – be a nightmare to extract from in there. Gonna need you on the roof to try and reach us if you can.”

  “And if you don’t land in the stadium?”

  “Got a decent set of wheels?” she said as I walked with her down the passageway.

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  The way I see it, we had three main problems that needed addressing. First and foremost: Who the hell knows how Songbird figured out how to hack the Relic and what that might be doing to me? At least when Johnny decided to go on his little escapade, that was somewhat more measurable than this. This was something new. How did she do it? Why did she do it? One could argue that it’s to keep off the radar, since the last thing the NUS President would want is to announce to the world, ‘Hey, I’m landing in Dogtown with next to no protection!’ But surely there must’ve been a more trustworthy option than some random merc who could spill the deets in the Afterlife just as easily?

  Second: While all this may be subtle now, Space Force One landing in the middle of Dogtown is anything but subtle. And they’re trusting a single mercenary with their lives? All of BARGHEST will be on top of this craft in moments. Any security detail less than platoon-strength is nigh-suicidal. Not to mention that I had to sneak in here in the first place and it was a royal pain in the ass; how on Earth do they expect me to get back out? I don’t have contacts to help with extraction in this zone. The most capable person I’d trust, Scars, is MaxTac – NCPD. And badges are hunted for sport here.

  Third: Any one of these facts could just as easily be made up. I had to get rid of Arasaka, sure, but I’d rather not have gone into Dogtown if it wasn’t for this magical bullshit cure that Songbird was dangling like a carrot. How would I even know if she’s actually sitting next to the NUS President and not Hansen? She still hasn’t even told me anything about this supposed device or whatever it is. That’d be the first thing I’m asking her when all this is said and done.

  –

  “Alright, I’m in the back rooms,” I told Songbird, “Time.”

  “Fifteen minutes, maybe less,” she replied hastily… Fuck, not a lot of time…

  “Got it. And I can assume that everyone from here on out will be hostile?”

  “Most likely, yeah. Shouldn't be too many in the storerooms, though. Just construction workers.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” I said bluntly, putting my face cover on and checking this fancy new Kimber for ammo… Good to go.

  “Just be careful – Hansen likely knows we’re coming, he’ll be–”

  “No,” I interrupted her, “The last job I failed cost me my brother’s life. I have no intention on failing another one.”

  “I get that, just sayin’ to watch out.”

  “I will – you too. See you at the landing site.”

  Alright, let’s keep the Kimber out, but best not use it unless I really need it. Man, I should’ve bought a suppressor… Oh well. This’ll be a stealth op if I can help it. I figure a good way off of this roof will be one of those construction cranes – maybe some other sort of equipment around the place. Would need to get a car if things go south at the last minute, but Songbird should be able to give me some advance warning if push will come to shove – at least that’s my hope.

  I cautiously made my way through the back rooms, not encountering so much as a hint of BARGHEST. No one other than the odd maintenance worker. Good news for me… More good news is that the roof appeared clear as well.

  Massive green cables spewed sparks everywhere, the ad-hoc power couplings barely tolerating the burden of the fission reactor. The noises being emitted by that massive hulk were not noises I’d ever want associated with something that potentially dangerous. I feel like it was about two steps away from creating a new Night City Holocaust… Wouldn’t that just be a grand old way to go. And poetic as well for Johnny…

  “Alright, just keep climbin’ up, should see us comin’ in shortly,” Songbird instructed as I climbed up various construction girders and rubble. Looks like BARGHEST didn’t bother to clean this place out after the ship landed… it was still in utter disrepair. “Hang on, let me see if I can get an elevator for you– shit!”

  “What?!”

  “Elevator broke…” Oh… I thought it was something worse than that…

  “Not particularly good with analogue tech, I’m guessing?”

  “Ugh… Tech here’s teeterin’ on its last feeble legs, that’s all.”

  “Or you’re just a brute-force hacker and it’s frying the hardware… Fine, I’ll climb it,” I groaned, holstering my weapon and getting ready for the scenic path…

  Scaling the side of the stadium proved deceptively easy. The massive concrete slabs easily held my weight despite the precariousness of it all. It was windy as hell up here… And I had to remind myself constantly not to look down… “We’re about to cross into Night City airspace,” Songbird told me as I crested the final portion, pulling myself up onto the roof.

  “You and Myers braced for the emergency landing? And – well, the extraction? Any word on whereabouts it’ll be?”

  “We’re fine… Or, as fine as we can ever be, landing in Dogtown… And yeah, final trajectory’s placin’ us at Terra Cognita. Gonna have to find a way down – but it’s good news. Plenty of places to hide while you get here. I’ll relay coordinates when you say so.”

  “Appreciate it,” I grunted, dusting myself off and looking up, scanning the horizon for any sign of an incoming craft, though I couldn’t quite see anything other than the usual traffic. “Where are you?”

  “About 80,000 feet and descending rapidly, comin’ in over the ocean,” Songbird replied rather calmly, all things considered.

  “Alright, I’ll wave at you as you go by, heh,” I chuckled lightly, still not seeing anything… Maybe I’m looking in the wrong spot…?

  “There, you see that?” Songbird interrupted my train of thought, pointing at a speck in the sky, “That’s us.”

  “Oh… oh…” Damn… She wasn’t kidding… Okay, my day just got a lot more interesting… But that’s good news – means that maybe she was telling the truth about the cure as well–

  Wait…

  Wait, what the HELL?!

  “Oh fuck…” Songbird muttered… Oh my God… Hansen’s SAM launchers… They were still operational!

  Fuck me, this is an attack!!

  The missile launched almost straight away as the craft descended, screaming towards the incoming bird at supersonic velocities – how the fuck did Songbird expect this to go down if the batteries were still loaded?! This is not good… Not good…!

  Oh Jesus, a second missile?! First one missed… Come on…

  “V! THE PRESIDENT! YOU HAVE TO–”

  Songbird’s signal disconnected…

  The second missile found its target.

  Space Force One was hit… Oh…

  Oh, it’s… it’s not a controlled landing… It’s going for the stadium!

  Oh my God… Oh, FUCK ME!!

  –

  The spacecraft roared overhead, following a near-ballistic trajectory as it plummeted out of the sky, missing the stadium by a mere few meters. The jet wash blew the roof apart, sending V tumbling two stories down below. Her beret was lifted clean off of her head, just one more particle of rubble cascading through the night as Space Force One struggled for any semblance of control.

  It wasn’t long before the question of where they would land was answered – it was not Terra Cognita. It was almost directly in the middle of Dogtown, just one block away from the main promenade where Hansen was likely holed up. The soldiers were mobilizing before the craft was even hit, leaving the samurai with precious little time to effect any sort of rescue.