Cyberpunk Vigilantly

I settled into the booth, leaning my elbows on the worn tabletop and eyeing the menu's flickering holo-display. The smell of greasy noodles and charred meat drifted through the air. Rebecca sat beside me, twirling a half-empty bottle of synthetic whiskey between her fingers and smirking at something I'd said earlier. Across from us, her brother, Pilar, slouched back against the vinyl seat, legs spread, grin just a touch too wide.

Rebecca snorted as I flipped through the menu options. "You can't sit there all night, just pick something," she said, nudging my arm. Her tone wasn't harsh, just teasing. She took a swig from her bottle, then set it down with a soft clink.

I slid my gaze toward her brother. This was my first time meeting him in person, though I'd heard his name dropped here and there and saw him in the anime. He was simultaneously sizing me up and the rest of the diner. His cybernetic arms really caught my attention.

"First time meeting me, and you're playing it cool, huh?" Pilar drawled, voice carrying just enough volume to tug my attention fully onto him. "Rebecca said you'd be an uptight edgerunner, but I'm not seeing it." He winked, which made Rebecca roll her eyes dramatically.

"She's not uptight," Rebecca cut in, leaning across the table to shove lightly at his shoulder. "Just smart enough to think twice when Suzie tried recruiting her." She shot me a sidelong grin. "Not everyone wants to wear our colors, y'know?"

I coughed, shifting in my seat. It was still a sore spot, even if I didn't regret turning down the offer. "It's not that I have a problem with the Mox," I explained, keeping my voice low. "Just not my path right now."

Pilar seemed amused rather than offended, arching an eyebrow as if trying to pry more out of me. His grin stayed in place, and I realized he was the type who enjoyed stirring the pot just to see what might bubble over. "Suit yourself," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "But, you know, it's nice to have friends in high places… or at least friends who own really good bars."

Rebecca laughed, leaning back and pulling one leg up onto the seat. She turned her head toward me, her ponytail shifting with the movement. "Ignore him. He thinks everyone needs a gang or a crew to stay relevant." She paused long enough to snatch a passing server-droid by the arm and bark an order. "Three bowls of yakisoba, extra spice on mine. Two braindance colas. And… whaddya want?" She angled her chin at me.

"I'll take the stir-fry special, that soy-beef dish," I said, handing the menu back to the droid. "And a regular cola." I glanced at Pilar, who was still grinning, still watching me like I was some kind of new toy. He nodded toward the droid and muttered something about double meat.

Once the order was placed, Rebecca leaned forward, elbows on the table, looking more relaxed than I'd ever seen her. "So, tell me," she said, tapping her nails softly against the surface, "how's that hustle going? Are you saving up for something big?"

I shrugged, Nine-thousand eddies was a decent chunk, more than I'd ever had at once. "Not sure yet. Maybe a better pad. Something with less water dripping through the ceiling." I laughed a little, feeling more at ease. "Or maybe gear. Could always use better gear."

Pilar leaned in too, resting his chin on his palm. His eyes flicked to Rebecca, then back to me. "Better gear, huh? What kind you looking for?" He sounded genuinely curious, or maybe just fishing to see if I'd spill something interesting.

Rebecca snorted again, as if the idea of me going on a shopping spree amused her. "Don't let him talk you into anything too flashy," she said, snatching her bottle back up and taking another swig. "He'll try to convince you to get chrome you don't need. Next thing you know, you'll have retractable finger-blades you never asked for."

I pressed my lips together, considering how to phrase it. "Nothing crazy right now, maybe just some better clothes and a new upgrade" It was the truth. plus I heard on the news about someone with expensive chrome being found chopped up. "I like to keep things on the down-low."

Pilar chuckled, tapping a finger against the tabletop in a slow rhythm, as he eyed my outfit. "clothes for sure." He looked like he wanted to say more, but the server droid rolled up at that moment, placing steaming bowls and plates between us.

The smell was fantastic, garlicky, savory, with a hint of spice. Rebecca wasted no time, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and digging into her noodles. I tried my own dish, lifting a spoonful to my mouth. The soy beef was tender enough, the sauce rich and salty. Not bad. I caught myself humming in approval. shame it wasn't real meat.

Rebecca eyed me mid-chew, a grin tugging at her lips. She pointed her chopsticks in my direction. "Told you this place wasn't half bad." She said it like I'd been skeptical before, though I hadn't said a word against it.

Pilar let out a low whistle, swirling his noodles. "You could do worse," he said to me, mouth quirking up at one corner. "My sister got a decent taste in divey diners." He paused, then leaned a bit closer. "So, what's the plan after this, huh? You two gonna hit the bars, or you got a side gig lined up?"

I chewed thoughtfully, considering the rest of my night. I'd come out to meet them with no particular agenda in mind, I had no training planned for tonight as well, just a chance to get to know Pilar and spend some time with Rebecca outside of the Mox scene. "Hadn't thought that far," I said at last. "Any suggestions?"

Rebecca snickered, pulling another mouthful of noodles between her lips. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, ignoring the napkins entirely. "We could roam around a bit. There's a back alley I know where—" She paused, considering whether to share. "—you can find some cheap deals on guns. If you're curious, that is."

Pilar gave a half-laugh, stirring his noodles and taking a bite. "Or we could just find a bar that lets us drink on the cheap and talk smack about each other's life choices." He gestured vaguely with his chopsticks. "You two figure it out. I'm just here for a good time."

I took a sip of cola, letting the fizzy sweetness wash down the spice of the meal. The atmosphere felt comfortable, even with Pilar's occasional attempts to poke at me. Rebecca seemed genuinely happy, her casual posture and crooked grin suggesting she was relaxed in a way I didn't see too often. I'd been worried this meeting might feel forced or tense, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Rebecca caught my eye and raised an eyebrow. I considered the options: I could humor Pilar's suggestion, keep things light, let the night stretch on in easy conversation; or I could show interest in whatever weapon alley Rebecca hinted at. Either way, the night was young, and I had no place I needed to be.

Before I could answer, Pilar spoke up again. "So," he said, leaning forward, "you really turned down the Mox? What's that about?" He didn't sound judgmental, just curious, his tone somewhere between playful and genuinely interested.

I shrugged, poking at a piece of soy beef in my bowl. "Just didn't fit with what Im looking to do." The words came out calm, even. Rebecca nodded approvingly, as if to say, 'Told you so.'

Pilar tapped his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl. "Fair enough," he said. "You got guts saying no to them. Most people jump at the chance." His eyes flicked to Rebecca, then back to me. He didn't push the topic further, which I appreciated.

Rebecca reached across the table, snatching one of my soy-beef pieces off my plate with a sly grin. "Don't mind me," she said, chewing on my stolen bite. "You take too long making decisions, anyway."

I kicked her lightly under the table, smirking. "Keep your chopsticks to your own bowl."

Pilar barked out a short laugh, nearly choking on his noodles. He pounded his chest and shook his head, amused. "I like this dynamic," he said finally, glancing between the two of us. "Feels real."

The server droid drifted past again, and Rebecca waved it down, ordering another round of colas. The tension, or what little there was, had settled into something comfortable and warm. Outside, who knew what might happen, but here at this table, with this food and these people, it felt like I could relax a little.

The second round of drinks arrived, the glasses clinking softly as the droid placed them down. I wrapped my hands around my glass, the cool condensation dampening my fingertips.

After we'd finished eating, that easy laughter still lingering in the air, the three of us slipped out of the diner. The automatic door hissed shut behind us, sealing in the warmth and the smells, and leaving us out under the buzzing neon and dim streetlights. Rebecca was picking at her teeth with a toothpick she must've swiped from the counter, and Pilar was already rummaging in his jacket for his smokes.

"C'mon, hand one over," I said, eyeing the pack in Pilar's hand. Maybe the taste of burnt chemicals on my tongue would complete the mood.

He waved the pack just out of reach, a playful grin lighting up his face. "These?" He tapped the front of the pack. "Nah, these are too good for you. High-grade synth tobacco, cost me a pretty eddy or two. You got your own, right?"

I huffed, crossing my arms. "Mine taste like burned rubber, and you know it."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, flicking her toothpick into the gutter. "Would you two stop fighting over smokes? I'd pay to see you both just settle it in a ring. The first one to cough loses."

I ignored her jibe and tried again, making a grab for Pilar's pack. He took a half-step back, his cybernetic arm whirring softly as he twirled the box between metal fingers, mocking me. "I don't see why I should share the good stuff with some choom who probably wouldn't appreciate it." He was obviously trying to get under my skin. He loved that, I could tell.

I shrugged and put on my best-bored expression. "Fine, keep 'em. I'll just remember this next time you want something from me." I shot him a look. Rebecca barked out a laugh, amused at the back-and-forth.

We'd made it halfway down the block when a van pulled up beside us. A black, nondescript hunk of metal on wheels, engine rattling like it'd seen better days. The door slid open with a clang that cut sharply through the night's calm.

Two guys hopped out fast, too fast. Their faces were covered, probably cheap masks, and they were holding guns that looked like they'd been bought off some back alley ripper. Everything about them screamed desperation. They didn't bother with a greeting, just lunged forward like they expected us to be too shocked to react. These had to be scavengers. 

"Get in the van," one of them hissed, voice muffled behind a faded bandana. "No one gets hurt if you come quietly."

Rebecca's reaction was immediate and predictable. She snarled, yanking a pistol from under her cropped jacket before he could say another word. Pilar, on the other hand, raised his cybernetic hand, the fingertips lighting up with a faint glow. I took a step back, reaching into my pocket for my slaughtermatic gun.

Pilar laughed low under his breath, sounding almost delighted. "You picked the wrong crew tonight." His eyes danced with that mischievous spark. He flexed his hand, and I could see his wrist ports buzzing with activity. The van's engine stuttered, coughed, then stalled. Its headlights flickered erratically like broken Christmas lights. Inside, I heard someone curse.

One of the thugs raised his gun toward Pilar. Bad move. Rebecca reacted in a flash. She squeezed the trigger, the muzzle flash lighting up the street for a brief second. Her round tore through the guy's head, the sound echoing down the block. He dropped without a sound, like a puppet with its strings cut.

The second idiot tried to scramble back into the van, maybe to start it up and flee. But Pilar's hack was still in effect, and the van's systems were glitching. The side door tried to shut, then opened again, stuttering like a broken jaw. I saw my chance. I pulled out the slaughtermatic and aimed straight at the van's interior. 

I fired. Bullets tore into the van's interior, punching holes in the cheap metal siding and shattering the windshield in a spray of glass. I couldn't see if I hit the other thug, I was just aiming to ruin their night, make them think twice about coming at us again. The clip emptied in a heartbeat, leaving a ringing in my ears and a stinging in my palm.

The van groaned, a mechanical death rattle. I heard cursing and the sound of something heavy slumping forward. The second thug must've taken at least a few rounds, and even if he hadn't, I doubted he had the guts to try again.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The only sound was the distant hum of city life, a siren way off in the distance. Rebecca lowered her pistol, cocking her head to listen for any signs of movement. Finding none, she spat on the pavement and let out a short, sharp laugh.

"Well, that was fun," she said dryly, tucking her gun away. She stepped toward me, eyeing the smoking husk of the slaughtermatic still clenched in my grip. "Nice aim, but that piece of crap?" She nudged it with a finger. "That's not a gun."

I glanced down at it. The cheap plastic casing had warped slightly from the heat, and it looked about ready to fall apart. I'd never used one before, never needed to. Now I knew why they were considered throwaways. "It got the job done," I said defensively, though even I could hear how weak that sounded.

Pilar stepped around the downed thug, careful not to get any blood on his boots. He ran a diagnostic on his arm, little lights blinking green again. "Job done, sure," he said, smirking. "But you're not gonna scare anyone with that toy. One use, and poof, it's junk."

Rebecca tapped my shoulder lightly, that mischievous grin back in place. "You need a real piece. Something that says 'I'm serious about self-defense,' not 'I found this at the bottom of a bargain bin.'"

I made a face, tossing the ruined gun onto the pavement where it bounced once and skittered to a stop. "I got this for free after killing some asshole," I argued, but I knew she was right. plus I let the part where he tried to rape me out. "Fine, I'll look into something better."

She flashed me a wink. "I know a guy. I'll hook you up."

The van was quiet now, one dead body slumped halfway out the door and the other presumably bleeding out inside. I couldn't muster much sympathy. They'd tried to kidnap us, after all. Pilar circled back around, fishing out his smokes from his pocket. He lit one, took a drag, and then, as if remembering our earlier argument, tossed the pack my way without warning.

"Go on," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You earned it. Even if your gun's garbage."

I caught the pack, popped it open, and plucked one out. The synth tobacco smell was strong and a little spicy. I stuck it between my lips and leaned in as Pilar offered light from the tip of his own smoke. I inhaled slowly, letting the flavor coat my tongue. He was right; these were better than mine, smoother, less chemical taste.

Rebecca watched this exchange with a soft snort. "You two done flirting?" She rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth tugged up. "We should move. Don't want to be here when the NCPD comes sniffing around."

I nodded, taking another drag before flicking the ash away. "Yeah, let's bounce. I don't feel like explaining a dead body and a vandalized van."

Pilar took one last look at his handiwork and then Looked around as his fingers moved he turned to each Chamera and made them explode and smirked. "Lead the way," he said, gesturing down the street.

We set off, leaving the wreck behind. Rebecca stepped ahead, her ponytail bobbing. Pilar fell in beside me, giving me another appraising look. I didn't really care which it was. Another night in this city. 

Rebecca caught my eye as we moved down a side street, the distant hum of traffic getting louder as we approached a busier zone. She gave me a nod, the kind that said, 'Not bad, choom.' I smiled back, just a small curl of the lips.