In the near distant future, the United states is in complete ruins. Now cooperates and warlords rule what is left over. The new United States a former shell of it's former glory. There in New California lies the lawless city... Night city. In this g...
V and Yn were standing out on the main streets of of Night City plaza. Then a blacked out V5000 Valor pulls up in front of them. This was the luxery edition, only a few models ever produced and costs hundreds of thousands of eddies. The car comes to a hault and the the rear passenger door opens. V looks over at Yn. He gives her a small nod and mouthes "be careful". V then turns towards the car and walks over. She goes toward the toward and slides in. The door closes and the driver takes off.
The air was thick in cuban smoke. V eyes lay upon one of the top fixers in the entire city... Dexter DeShawn.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DeShawn: Yo Mrs. V. A pleasure.
V: Dexter Desahwn in the flesh. Ample, indeed.
DeShawn: Heheh. Let's roll.
The driver takes off down the main intersection.
DeShawn: Mind if I ask you somethin' right off the bang? Would you rather live in peace as Mr. Nobody, die ripe, old and smellin slightly of urine? Or go down for all times in a blaze of glory, smellin' near like posies, thou seein your thirtieth.
V mind began to stir, it was her dream to rise from the ashes and become one of the greats that this god forsaken city had ever seen. She had came from nothing and she wanted to leave this world making her mark before she blew out her candle.
V: It's first place or no place, Dex. Cost isn't a factor.
DeShawn: Huh, classic. I'd expect nothin less from eager supple youth. Respect.
Dex takes a puff of his scar before blowing out the smoke.
DeShawn: Ai'ght listen close. Scannin a serious job now. Plain gargantuan compared to smashin up a scav haunt.
V: Lemme hear it. What's the job.
DeShawn: There's this... prototype tech- a biochip, to be precise. Job's to grab it. Simple.
V: Yeah. Guessing it belongs to a corp?
DeShawn: Mhm-- Arasaksa. Surely that's no problem?
V: Heh. Corps don't deserve special treatment.
DeShawn: Shit, heh. You ain't playing around. Got a feeling this could be a start of a beautiful friendship built on heaps of eddies.
V: You work this out? Got a plan?
DeShawn: Two things. Firsts a condurm with the Maelstrom boys. Needs active resolvin, that. Secounds a rednezvous. Simple. Client who brought us the jobs anxious. She wants to parley with one o' the team.
Dex then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shard, he tosses it over to V and she slots in.
DeShawn: Got a classic tale for ya. Psycho gang doin its thing two weeks back, jumped a Militech convoy, got away with the gear. Corp don't even know Malestrom's involved. Now see, convoy was carrying the Flathead-- a little combat bot, a prototype. And I need me that bit o high-grade military tech. Cause if we don't get that bot, we don't get no "Saka chip". An we sure as hell don't get no happily ever after. But don't get excited its a single use toy.
