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Rebecca kicked open the door to the apartment she shared with her brother, and a pungent cocktail of cheap synthetic alcohol and ozone immediately hit her in the face.
"You absolute idiot brother!!" Rebecca barked, covering her nose in disgust.
The apartment was a textbook definition of debauchery. Colorful underwear was scattered across the floor like confetti, and the sofa was a sea of pale skin and striking tattoos. Pilar had clearly spent his honeymoon with Night City's Moxes. Using Kael's connections, he'd even managed to secure a twenty percent "frequency discount."
Buried beneath the pile of working girls, only Pilar's golden tech-cybernetic arm was visible. Rebecca didn't hesitate; she pulled her pistol and fired a shot into the ceiling.
BANG!
The room jolted into a chaotic scramble. Pilar, fumbling under a mountain of synthetic silk, emerged clutching a slippery plastic rod—a personal "hobby" item—pointing it at his sister with wide, bloodshot eyes.
"Damn, Becca! You scared the chrome off me," Pilar wheezed, tossing the rod aside. He scratched his greasy hair and offered a goofy grin. "Finish your lunar honeymoon with Kael?"
Rebecca turned a vivid shade of crimson. She kicked him squarely in the backside. "I've been trying to ping you for ages! Get dressed! Maine and the others are back."
"Alright, alright. Sisters, until next time," Pilar said, turning to pay the Moxes. He froze as his neural link displayed his balance. "Uh... Becca? I might need a small loan."
"You son of a—!!"
Rebecca suppressed the urge to zero him right there, settling for a round of frustration-venting stomps. She eventually paid the bill. No one defaulted on the Moxes and expected to keep their skin.
Rebecca hauled a somewhat-reformed Pilar into her brand-new off-road vehicle. The wheels were taller than she was; Kael had customized the driver's seat just so she could reach the pedals.
"Wow, did my dear brother-in-law buy this for you?" Pilar wriggled onto the hood, his unsightly golden hand leaving smudges on the paint.
"It's just transport," Rebecca feigned indifference, though her internal ego was redlining.
"Ask him if he's interested in a change of pace," Pilar whispered, gripping her shoulders. "I can get a minor operation. For that kind of Eurodollar, I'll be whatever he wants."
Rebecca kicked him under the car. competing with Lucy and Sasha at night was a high-intensity sport; she didn't need her own brother entering the bracket.
They arrived at the Afterlife. The security detail, recognizing the short-fused firecracker, stepped aside without a word. Inside a private booth, Maine, Dorio, and Kiwi were already waiting.
"Yo, long time no see!" Rebecca chirped, plopping onto the sofa.
"Still haven't hit a growth spurt, Becca?" Maine teased, triggering a wave of laughter that Maine's crew had missed during their time in hiding.
"Kiwi~ You look even prettier. Let big brother scan your hardware," Pilar said, leaning toward the Netrunner. Before he could make contact, his body began to twitch and spark. Kiwi had hacked him before he could finish the sentence.
"It's time to put Maine's crew back on the map," Maine said, his voice dropping into professional mode. "We need the Eddies. I poured my savings into my internal cooling system, and the ROI is looking thin."
"I'm in," Kiwi nodded. She was currently the most cash-strapped after her rural disaster.
"What about Sasha?"
"She's providing remote network support," Maine replied. "She's... retired to the second line."
Kiwi made a rare smirk. She understood. Sasha had found a "Master," and the front lines were no longer her priority. Night City had taught Kiwi never to depend on a man, but looking at the crew, that creed was becoming a legacy sub-routine.
The booth door slid open. Kael walked in, wearing a simple trench coat. Even after a short absence, his aura felt even more oppressive—the biological instinct to fear a superior predator—yet softened by a charismatic smile that made the room feel warmer.
"Damn, did you get custom-sculpted on the Moon?" Maine asked, taking a shot of tequila. "The gap between us is getting ridiculous."
"Can industrial plastic surgery even reach this ceiling?" Kael joked, touching his face.
"Thanks for the safehouse, Kael. I owe you," Kiwi said, raising her glass.
"Can I collect in kind?"
"If Lucy doesn't mind, I'm flexible," Kiwi countered. Kael laughed it off.
Kael took a seat, handing a data-chip to Maine. "I'll be blunt: these are Arasaka internal jobs. V is in the middle of a life-and-death struggle between the Counter-Intelligence and Special Ops departments. Abernathy is pushing back hard. He needs us to clear her board."
Maine grinned as he scanned the advance payment. The numbers were astronomical.
"Risky," Kiwi noted. "We'll be hitting Arasaka elites."
"Don't worry," Kael said. "I'll provide the 'assistance' you need to bridge the tech gap."
As Kael finished the briefing, his neural link pinged. An invite from Rogue Amendiares.
"What's up?" Sasha asked, her cat-like senses picking up the shift.
"The Queen wants a drink," Kael shrugged. He stood up, giving Rebecca's cheek a playful pinch. "Play nice while I'm gone."
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